#mentions of past stancy
Note
We see a lot of chubby Steve/weight gain post-high school but I think it would be interesting to see some fics where he’s still in school. Maybe he has to give up sports due to the concussions or something?
You're right and you should say it!! I have a bit of that in my love spell no go AU, before Starcourt happens and Steve goes full trauma-fueled must be able to protect everyone I know mode.
So... might not be what you were hoping for but I wrote an almost 3k addition to that fic, during the part where Steve is still at Hawkins High. Swim is over for the year (and Steve avoids his pool now), and while he's still on the basketball team he's also smoking weed (helps with the nightmares, getting enough sleep, better mood, etc.) and snacking more. He's in the starter belly stage but has no complaints.
Part 1, (YOU ARE HERE), part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11 of the love spell no go au
The weed he bought from Munson is a godsend, and Steve wonders why he hadn’t thought of it before… only to remember that Nancy wouldn’t have approved. (Although she’s not a priss, exactly, she had barely even touched alcohol since the night Barb died. Until Halloween.) But he can sleep through the lonely nights now, which is worth even that hurtful pang of realization—that maybe, Nancy hadn’t been very good for him.
(Sure, she had helped him study. And his grades had improved. But sometimes, too, she would smile and say, “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.” It had been cute at first, before Barb, when the smile had still been real.)
Whenever he thinks about that, or feels particularly lonely, he digs into his stash for a quick smoke out his bedroom window—never by the pool, not anymore. He gets into the habit of snacking after, even if it’s while doing his homework, because even when he’s a little bit stoned it’s somehow easier to focus on shit when he’s doing something else at the same time, and chewing works.
(Nancy hadn’t liked it when he’d fiddled with his pencil or a rubber band or a Rubix cube or anything while she’d quizzed him with flashcards, even though he’d tried to tell her it helped. She’d fussed at him about it until he’d just… stopped.)
Other times, he zones out in front of the tv while working his way through a sandwich or a bag of chips or a sleeve of Oreos. Or takeout, a lot of the time, because his culinary skills pretty much stop at sandwiches, up to and including scrambling an egg for a breakfast sandwich. But a man cannot live on scrambled eggs alone, he’s learned that the hard way, so pizza or burgers or pasta in cardboard containers it is.
It’s not just the munchies. After a while Steve gets into the habit of just… eating. It's not like his parents are around to notice, and Dustin and the other kids he babysits sometimes (for all that Mike protests that they aren’t babies and don’t need a sitter; what they do consistently need, however, is rides) don't care as long as he springs for enough that they can have some too. No one at school would dare say it to his face, and somehow it still doesn't manage to fully tank his slightly flagging reputation, but Steve is definitely starting to put on weight. He doesn’t care.
He starts going to parties again half for a change of scenery, half for a change of food options. Pizza still makes a frequent appearance, but there’s popcorn and flavors of chips that he doesn’t usually buy and various kinds of snack mixes. (His favorites are anything that include M&Ms.) Sometimes, there are even cupcakes or cookies. He doesn’t dance, doesn’t even drink all that much and sticks to just beer when he does, never the punch. Most of the kids who come to these parties are there for the booze and the makeout opportunities, but he turns up to people-watch, bopping his head in time with the music if it's a song he likes, and park himself by whatever food the party has to offer. Sometimes Steve buys from Eddie if he's there, offers to share joints with him that Eddie, still wary, turns down. When the food runs out, Steve leaves.
Tonight, though, Tammy Thompson just will not leave him alone and he’s at a loss for what to do about it. She’s been talking his ear off about wanting to move to Nashville and become a country singer the entire time he’s been working on this extra large pepperoni and sausage with black olives—not his first choice, but it’s still hot enough for the cheese to stretch whenever he picks up the next slice, warm tomato sauce and grease dripping down the front of his polo more often than he can always catch with a napkin.
“Did you want some?” he asks at some point, to be polite and hopefully indicate that he doesn’t care that she’s trying to tell him something.
He can tell immediately that it doesn’t work, because Tammy lights up from simply being addressed, even though her answer is, “Oh, no thank you, I’m a vegetarian.”
“Right,” Steve mumbles, and crams nearly half of his next slice of meat-laden pizza in his mouth. Maybe if he talks with his mouth full. “More for me, then.”
The words come out muffled, but she still beams and offers to grab him something to drink, jumping up and scampering off before Steve even has a chance to respond. He sighs, downs the rest of the beer he’s been nursing, and takes the new one she brings him without saying thank you. Between the next pieces of pizza he pops it open, chugs it, and belches; she puts a hand on his arm.
For a moment, at that, Steve feels a faint stirring of interest. He likes his food, did even before dropping swimming and picking up weed, and well before it started to show. Now that it has, he feels comfortable in his softer body. Good. And maybe… maybe he could handle dating someone who doesn’t mind how much he likes it. He imagines Tammy running her immaculately painted nails over his skin, places he’s noticed have been getting more sensitive lately, and suppresses a shiver.
“Could you pass me that bowl of M&Ms over there?” he asks, testing the waters. Yeah, he could probably reach it if he stretched, but he’s starting to fill up and doesn’t feel like putting the extra pressure on his stomach. He sits back a little in his chair instead, shifting to get comfortable and laying a hand on his belly where it bows out over the waistband of his jeans. “Sorry, just, you know. Big appetite lately.”
“Oh, that’s okay, I don’t mind,” Tammy says with a giggle as she fetches the bowl for him. “Besides, you’re an athlete! I’m sure you’ll work it off in no time on the court.”
And yeah, no, that vague interest curdles immediately. As far as Steve is concerned, the only parts of himself he wants to get rid of are all in his head—the heartbroken parts, the nightmare and trauma parts, the desperately lonely and needy parts. But he’s not so lonely that he’ll hook up with a girl who’s willing in spite of how he looks, because what else could she possibly be interested in? His personality?
He barely even has one. King Steve has always been bullshit, Nancy was right about that much.
Through the crowd, he spots curly hair and a flash of dark leather—Eddie. Good, he’d been hoping to buy more tonight, and this is as good an excuse to exit this conversation as any.
Steve grabs a handful of M&Ms to shove in his mouth and flips the lid of the pizza box closed, handing the bowl back to Tammy and taking the box with him when he stands. “Well, enjoy the rest of the party,” he blurts. “I’ve gotta go see a guy about some drugs. Bye!”
As he makes his escape, some girl that he thinks he might have class with or something just about shoulder-checks him, but he’s solid enough that she ends up stumbling from the impact instead. The glare she gives him could peel paint… which is actually kind of refreshing, after enduring Tammy’s simpering for the better part of an hour.
To Eddie’s perpetual frustration, now that Steve Harrington has started buying weed from him he can never seem to be free of the guy. Case in point: the “Hey, Munson, wait up!” that follows him to the backyard of tonight’s house party slash business venture.
He waits until he’s down the patio steps before whipping around, prepared to glare and snap an impatient what do you want, Harrington, but ends up staring at a pizza box that’s being shoved in his face.
“Pizza?” Steve says.
Eddie blinks at the box, then at the boy holding it. “This isn’t your party. Doesn’t that mean it’s not your pizza to offer?”
“It might as well be, I’ve eaten most of it,” Steve replies. “No one seemed to notice, that makes it fair game.”
Once, Eddie had been selling at a party and been bitched out for touching a single cookie, because those were for guests. He wants to scowl, but then his gaze flicks down to the partly open box and sees that there aren’t many slices left, eyes fixing on the evidence dripped down the front of Steve’s shirt and the way it’s… tight, across his middle. “You ate all but three slices of an entire extra large?”
He’s not sure what answer he expects to get. Maybe something like Of course not, dickhead, or maybe just, What, like it’s hard? But all Steve says is, “Yep.” And keeps looking at him with those sweet hazel eyes that seem bight and not too clouded by alcohol.
Still, Eddie is wary. “Okay… You first.”
Steve just shrugs and pulls out a slice, taking a bite before Eddie snatches it out of his hand. “Hey!”
“Just making sure it wasn’t poisoned first, sweetheart,” Eddie retorts, sneering for the excuse to call a pretty boy sweetheart in semi-public, butterflies stirring in his stomach at getting away with it. “Don’t worry, the rest is all yours.”
“Who’s tried to poison you?” Steve asks in a perplexed tone, folding the last two slices together to make a pizza sandwich and tossing the empty box onto the deck. Still following Eddie, because of course this is Eddie’s life. Love spell was a spectacular failure, but he’s still got the boy of his dreams following him around like a lost duckling because he’s got drugs. Fucking fantastic.
And Eddie doesn’t want to get into the whole thing—those rumors from when Eddie had been in seventh grade and Steve had been in sixth, for all that they’re both in the same grade now, about some kid who’d been sent to the ER from a bad reaction to itching powder. There were variations where it had gotten in his eyes and nearly blinded him, or on his food and made his throat swell shut, or in his underwear and turned his dick so red his balls fell off. In reality, he had only gone to the nurse with a bad rash and hadn’t even been allowed to go home, but it left a goddamn impression.
He doesn’t want to get into it, not if Steve either doesn’t remember the rumors or hasn’t connected them to his present day self, so he just rolls his eyes and says, “Are you looking to buy or what?”
Steve immediately brightens a bit, like a golden retriever spotting someone holding a tennis ball. “Yeah, I smoked the last I had before coming here but it’s already worn off I think.” And takes a big bite of his two pizza slices.
So Eddie leads him to a darker nook around the side of the house for the deal, trying not to stare at the way Steve’s cheeks bow out while he chews, like a damn chipmunk. It’s cute. He’s kind of angry that it’s cute, that there’s still a part of him that lights up when Steve looks happy, satisfied, content—and right now all of those boxes are checked.
“Want to smoke a little now?” Steve offers, once he’s paid and taken the baggie one handed, popped the rest of the food in his mouth, licked his fingers clean, and pulled out a pack of rolling papers. And Eddie pauses too long before answering, long enough that Steve takes the lack of refusal as a yes.
Which Eddie should correct, because he usually says no to that sort of thing, especially when he’s at parties specifically to sell. He’s turned Steve down before, even; it’s like the guy has a whole thing about offering whenever he plans on lighting up asap. Eddie knows better to fall into that trap.
But it’s a nice night. The weather is mild for spring, business has been good, and Steve licks his lips to get the last traces of pizza sauce before his tongue darts out to wet the paper and finish rolling the joint. Nice and tight, like the denim hugging Steve’s ass and thighs tighter recently. So Eddie sticks around, breaks his rule and tries to keep his face clear of any evidence that he is fixated on the few degrees of separation between smoking and kissing, heart hammering the entire time. He tells himself it’s a one time only thing, but knows he might be lying. Recognizes how addictive this could be.
“Thanks for being here,” Steve says after passing the joint back and forth a few times, his eyes glazed and drooping. “Really needed this tonight.”
“That’s what I’m here for, man,” Eddie replies. He’s leaning against the side of the house practically shoulder to shoulder with his crush, and the high washing over him is really taking the edge off the jagged yearning in his chest. Like, he still wants, but he’s happy just floating in the present moment, content with the indirect sharing of spit. And this is… This is okay.
Surprisingly okay.
It throws Eddie for a loop because it’s at odds with the whole King Steve image. The whole puppet master persona that isn’t a bully, but can with a few words cut someone down socially to where the bullies could reach them, if they so wish. Popular kids at Hawkins High walk around with their noses in the air like they’ve never smelled a fart and refuse to start now, but this is the guy they turn around and start brown-nosing. King Steve isn’t nice, he’s used to being waited on. Kings do not say thank you to the court jester for simply carrying out his profession.
Just Steve, though, is different. Just Steve is chill and finished most of an entire huge pizza while mostly sober, is filling out his clothes even better these days in Eddie’s opinion, and currently looks the most at peace he’s ever seen a person. No walls, no guard… Just Steve.
Okay, that one split joint had gone straight to his head, god damn.
“Well, I’m gonna take off,” Eddie announces, and can’t tell if he’s said it too loud or not. He pushes off the wall with a shake of his head. “You snagged pretty much the last of my inventory, so I’ll just get out of here before someone starts handing out the torches and pitchforks.”
Steve chuckles. “Like any of those guys in there know how to make a torch,” he scoffs. He manages to say it in a way that almost makes Eddie lean in. Makes him feel like he’s been let in on some sort of inside joke, like they could but those losers couldn’t.
Which is—Okay, so Eddie does in theory know how to make a torch, he’d looked into it for one of his earliest homebrew campaigns, but Steve Harringnton? The very idea of Steve whipping off his shirt, tying it to a branch, soaking the end in something flammable, and lighting it up is something out of fantasy. Out of specific fantasies that he has had. It snaps Eddie out of the hazy bubble of they that Steve had somehow created with just a few words, and holy shit. Was that one of the side effects of his wonky spell, or was that Just Steve?
“Yeah, sure,” Eddie scoffs back, putting more distance between them even though he does want to lean in, dammit, but he wants Steve to want it too. Even though it’s on the tip of his tongue to ask the guy if he has a ride home, or if he wants to swing by the mom and pop ice cream place on Main for desert or something; Eddie has been practicing swallowing down urges like that since he’d hit adolescence. “Find me next time you need to top up your stash, Harrington.”
He walks away fast enough that if Steve responds he doesn’t hear it, heading for the back gate that he’d left the house for in the first place. His van is parked strategically nearby for a quick getaway, just in case the party got out of hand and a neighbor called the cops.
And if his dreams that night feature a completely relaxed Steve Harrington chewing on never ending slices of pizza and that blissful look of peace on his face, his lips shiny with spit and grease, it’s not like Eddie is ever going to tell anyone.
Tag list (comment to be added): @hotluncheddie @8em-em-em8 @anaibis @connected-dots @lawrencebshoggoth
#love spell no go au#wg steddie#chubby steve harrington#eddie munson#mentions of past stancy#tammy thompson#i have nothing against tammy but she is very much pursuing steve because of the love spell more than anything else#pre-relationship steddie#this fic will eventually be up on ao3... i just want to finish it first
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if billy Hargrove abused my found family sister, attacked her boyfriend, broke into my boyfriends house, and called my ex a bitch, I would hit him with a car, not knowing he was flayed too.
#steve harrington#anti billy hargrove#past stancy#stonathan#mentioned Lucas sinclair#Mentioned Nancy wheeler#Mentioned max mayfield#Why am I tagging this like an AO3 fic😭
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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.
Chapter twelve ⭐︎ When the curtains call the time, will we both go home alive?
Warnings: 18+ minors don't interact! angst, jealousy, misunderstandings, mutual pining, mentions of unrequited feelings, mentions of cheating (not on reader), mentions of past stancy, jealous!Steve, slightly mean!Steve (kinda?), smut smut smut, bathroom sex, car sex, fingering, squirting. I like to picture Jacob as Drew Starkey hehe
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Summary: Steve had never handled his jealousy very well, but being jealous over you, brings out a new side in him. He would do anything to keep you, anything.
Word count: 17.4k+
Author's note: I've been waiting for this chapter since forever, jealous men are always my jam, and @hellfire--cult took these ideas to a whole new level, enjoy this filthy chapter. This one is for all my Steve girlies who haven't given up on me after my last story ♡ Roe, I should grant you a thousand wishes at this point, you keep me so hyped for this story. Also this chapter wouldn't have been this good without you, don't even try to fight me
Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter
♡
Nancy’s brows are furrowed in concentration, her pink lips pursed as she looks through the many dresses to find the perfect one, her curly hair is pulled up into a bun, held together by a white scrunchie with pink polka dots, she’s wearing one of the outfits she had gotten on your last shopping trip together, this is only your second time, but it’s fun, you like hanging out with her.
You drove to Indianapolis since Hawkins doesn’t have all too many clothing stores, especially after the ‘fire’ at the mall, you prefer it here anyways, the big city has much more to offer than the small town.
“What do you think of this one?” Nancy asks as she shows you the yellow sundress.
You tilt your head, pressing your lips together as you eye it, not quite liking the way too bright color. You walk around the clothing rack to get to the other side, holding the clothing items that you threw over your forearm a little tighter as you take in the different colors of the dress she’s still holding up.
“Mmm… No, maybe the blue one, Nancy?” You ask, as you point your finger at the baby blue color, when your eyes widen as you catch sight of the purple one, “or, the purple one! That one would look cute, it matches the color of your eyeshadow!”
She smiles at you, nodding excitedly. She puts the yellow dress on the rack, and looks through the purple ones to find her size.
“But you should go for the yellow one if you like it more.”
She shakes her head, looking back at you, “no, I trust your judgment,” she smiles and picks out the dress, “besides, this color is way cuter.”
You nod, a smile tugging at your lips, “yeah, it’ll look amazing on you.”
Her dimples show and her eyes light up a little.
Nancy has been nothing but kind and sweet to you, and you can’t help but feel guilt and regret growing inside of you for the way you once felt about her.
You weren’t only jealous of her because she had Steve, you also hated her for having him, and you’d spent your shared classes with her, staring at her and comparing yourself to the girl he loved so dearly – the girl he still loves. You were never rude to her or mean, you never glared at her or threw comments at her the way other girls did, after Steve had humiliated her in front of the whole town, despite your feelings for him, you did feel disappointed for what he had done, even when you didn’t even like her, at that time.
“You should try this one on!” Nancy pulls you out of your thoughts, a grin on her face as she holds up a black dress – a daring black dress. It’s short and flowy, the straps are thin, it’s low cut with a dainty bow on the front, the back very exposed. “You could wear this one to Vickie’s party.”
A smile tugs at your lips, you step forward and slowly reach your hands out to take it from her.
“You will look hot in it,” Nancy wiggles her eyebrows at you, nudging her shoulder against yours as she brushes past you to look for more dresses, “I’m sure I won’t be the only one who thinks that,” she says in a sing-song voice.
Nancy had been very persistent in trying to get you to go on dates. The last time you went out together, the Barista at your local coffee shop had put his number on your takeaway cup after giving you the order for free. She tried to convince you to give him a call, gushing over how sweet he was to you and how he looked at you, and yeah, he was sweet, he was very good looking too, and maybe you would’ve given him a call if things were still the same they were months before this. Yeah, you would’ve definitely given him a call, but only to forget about the certain someone who woke up in your bed this morning. Whose bed you will go to sleep in tonight.
As you stare at the dress, all that you can think about is Steve, and how he will react to seeing you in this.
Will he think that you’re pretty?
Will you look irresistible to him?
Will he want to tear it off of you?
After all, he does like your dresses, your sundresses especially, you see the way his eyes darken whenever you step into his house with a new one on your body, like he is ready to rip it to shreds and devour you for the next few hours or so, and he usually does, sometimes he doesn’t even take it off, and only pushes it aside, bunching it around your waist.
This sundress is by far more revealing than any of the other ones you have worn before. Excitement bubbles in your stomach as you think of his reaction to it.
You are definitely getting it.
After taking forever to pick out what clothes to keep in the dressing room, you both make your way out of the store with full bags, stuffed with new summer clothes. You stroll around town for a while, looking for new jewelry and shoes to go with the dresses you both bought.
You never realized just how much you missed having a girl friend to do these things with, until you sit down at a cute café to eat some late lunch. It’s something you always used to do with your childhood best friend, that you always try not to think of, too painful are the memories of Chrissy and how you couldn’t be there for her, how you couldn’t save her. You always wondered if things would have gone differently had you both not drifted apart the way you did when you both went separate ways.
But it’s no use to overthink about it, you won’t ever find out.
“Funny how we’re shopping for clothes, when a few weeks back we were fighting for our lives against something the whole world doesn’t even know about,” Nancy says as she looks over the menu.
“Yeah,” you nod with wide eyes, glancing up from your own menu to look at her, you realize that you never asked how she got involved in all of it, in the first place.
You clear your throat, “I never asked… how did you get involved?”
She raises her brows at your question, taking a deep breath before she puts down the menu.
“I–It was when Barb went missing, right after Will… What the police said about her wasn’t right, I knew my Barb, so I looked into it all, and I dragged Jonathan in with me because he was looking for his brother, only to find out that my brother and all of his friends were in it too…” She rolls her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips.
You laugh a little, shaking your head.
A shiver runs down your spine as you think of how long it had all been going on in the shadows, how long you had been unaware of the Upside Down and the existence of monsters, how children were involved in something they shouldn’t have been.
“And then, poor Steve… He showed up at Jonathan’s place when we tried to lure in the Demogorgon, he almost ran off… but he came right back to fight him with us.”
You know all about it, Steve told you how he fought the Demogorgon with Nancy and Jonathan, how he had been dragged into it all by accident, how he helped Dustin find Dart, how he protected the kids and climbed into the tunnel after getting beaten by Billy.
You know most of what happened, not only from Steve, but also from Robin, but you feel intrigued, you want to know more… from her.
Something flashes in her eyes, a look of guilt, a look of regret.
You know exactly what she’s thinking about, and you know that you shouldn’t bring this up, but your curiosity gets the best of you.
“I-I was at Tina’s Halloween party.”
Nancy winces at that, she doesn’t seem uncomfortable by your words, just… regretful of the memories that night brings her.
You remember the night just as well as she does. Steve had bumped into you after he rushed out of the bathroom you didn’t even know he was in with Nancy, he glared at you and nudged your shoulder harshly, he rudely told you to move out of his way and murmured some incoherent curse word at you.
You remember how deflected you felt, all night you had avoided him only to bump into him in his worst moment.
Everyone knows what happened that night, not in full detail, but it doesn’t take a genius to find out what happened between King Steve and his girlfriend after he had stormed out of the house without her, and she left with Jonathan instead.
Word traveled around, rumors circulated, but you didn’t listen to them, it wasn’t any of your business, and it wasn’t hard to figure out what had happened anyways. Just as Steve and Nancy’s relationship ended, she showed up to school, holding hands with Jonathan. Clearly, something happened between them long before her relationship with Steve had ended.
Steve hated you, but your heart broke for him still.
It was so very obvious how much he loved her, and you can imagine how much it hurt when she cheated on him, and left him and his heart in shambles.
“I-I will never forgive myself for it. No matter if– he did forgive me. I was horrible to him, no amount of apologies can take away the guilt I will forever feel.”
“W-What happened?” You ask nervously, not wanting to overstep but still feeling the curiosity tugging harshly in your chest.
She sighs, looking around the bustling street before her eyes move back to yours.
“I-I always blamed him for what happened to Barb, I should’ve gone home with her that night, but I didn’t, even though I promised I would. I went with him, a-and the Demogorgon got her,” she explains, shaking her head a little as she closes her eyes, “it wasn’t Steve’s fault, not at all, but I-I blamed him and every time I looked at him, I just thought about her and what happened to her and how things would’ve gone differently if I didn’t leave her that night, if I didn’t went with Steve.”
You dig your nails into your palms, swallowing harshly as you watch her.
“He was good to me, he was there for me, b-but I couldn’t stand him sometimes, and how he tried to act like everything was normal, when it wasn’t.”
The feeling of irritation sparks inside of your chest, crawling into your bloodstream.
“And then, the Halloween party… I just, I was still grieving and I was angry, I let it all out on him, I should’ve handled things differently, I shouldn’t have been so harsh but… I-I called him bullshit,” she confesses to you, scrunching up her nose as she cringes at her own self, “and then I confessed my true feelings for him and our relationship.”
You swallow the lump in your throat, the anger that you are holding back after those leave her mouth. Bullshit.
How could she do that to him?
How could she hurt him the way that she did?
How could she call him that?
You can tell that it takes a weight off her shoulders, that it’s something she hasn’t talked about since it happened, not to Robin, not even to Jonathan, because after these words leave her mouth, she takes a deep breath, and her body relaxes as she leans back in her seat.
Her face is edged with shame, but also with relief to finally be able to let it out.
And you try, you really try to hide your own feelings, the anger, the hurt that you feel for the man that you hold so dearly in your heart.
You feel thankful for the waiter who interrupts your thoughts, he places the drinks that you ordered on the table, and reaches for his notepad, taking Nancy’s food order first.
You take a sip of your iced tea and you watch her for a moment, reminding yourself of how long ago it was, how much she changed, how much he changed, how it’s none of your business, how you shouldn’t feel angry at her, even when she’s the one who hurt him, when she’s the one he still wants, despite what she did.
He would take her back in a heartbeat if she came back to him, and the thought breaks your heart.
But you can’t help but keep dancing around the topic, so after the waiter takes your order and leaves, you ask her something you’ve been wondering about for weeks now.
“Do you… regret it? Do you sometimes wish that things between you went differently?”
She leans her elbows on the table, placing the straw between her lips, she takes a sip of her drink before she leans back again.
“The only thing I regret is how I led him on, I wish I could go back, and lay it all out on him in a different way… Explain to him why… I didn’t feel that for him, give him a reason instead of making him think that he’s damaged.”
She cared about him, you can see it in her eyes, you can hear it in her voice. She cared, even if only poorly.
“I see,” you nod, trying not to sigh. “And… well– when the whole thing with Vecna…” You pause as you feel the weight on your chest crushing you with nervousness.
She tilts her head at you, “what?”
Heat rushes to your cheeks, you lick your lips as you look around, watching the people in the busy street across the café for a moment, before you return your gaze to her.
“Well… It was noticeable you know… and then… you two weren’t exactly quiet in the RV,” you mumble, trying not to sound bitter as the day catches up to you, what Steve had said to Nancy, how he looked at her, how she looked at him – and the rude things he said about you before the white picket fence conversation came up.
Her eyes widen a little, cheeks blushing a deep red as she looks down sheepishly.
You don’t know what you had expected, but you certainly didn’t wait for her to blush, it makes your stomach clench uncomfortably.
“I–I was just hurt because of Jonathan. Feelings are cunning, evil… I was angry, and I think my heart and mind looked for where I could find comfort.”
Oh, how ugly the feeling in your chest now is, how bitter the taste on your tongue is, how the sweetness of your drink does nothing to make it better, because you know, you know that you wouldn’t be sitting here now if Jonathan didn’t come back, you wouldn’t wake up in Steve’s bed or fall asleep in his arms.
Because she would be the one.
You knit your brows together as you stare at her, “but Steve–”
“I know but… I think it was just a heat of the moment kind of thing.”
You physically have to restrain yourself from clenching your jaw or rolling your eyes. So, you look away for a moment, staring into a blank space as you try to calm your breathing.
Heat of the moment.
You want to scoff and laugh at her words, because telling your ex-girlfriend that you want to have six kids with her is totally, a heat of the moment kind of thing, right.
You’re very well aware of the jealousy that is boiling inside of you, worsening every passing second, and yet, you can’t help but want to fuel the fire even more, and find out what she would’ve done if she needed more comfort.
So when you look at her back, you ask, “so… if you were still hurt and Jonathan didn’t come back…?”
You see the way she freezes, the way she hesitates, the way she takes way too long to answer your question.
“I-I don’t think that I would’ve been with Steve again… Even if my urges and desires told me to… That’s the only thing they were… desires or… attractions. I wouldn’t want to hurt him again and give him the idea that there’d be a chance for a future,” she sighs, shaking her head, “I’m not the one. I’m not the woman for the future of his.”
You don’t know whether to feel sad for Steve or yourself.
She is that woman.
She is the one, the only one that he wants in that way, so why is she denying it?
The question lingers in your mind and you can’t help but wonder, what would happen if she stopped denying it? If her feelings were more than just desire after all? If she came back to him?
There is no doubt about what he would do.
You’d be nothing but a faint memory the moment she’d come back.
You’d no longer occupy her space in his bed.
You’d no longer be the one he’d kiss, touch, feel.
And you, you would step aside without a moment of hesitation, because despite your feelings for him, you would want him to be happy, and you know that he would never get that with you.
“Besides, I don’t want to be. Steve was my first boyfriend, puppy love,” she chuckles. “It’s different with Jonathan, I want him in my future, a-and I’d honestly take any future with him,” she says, as a soft smile creeps on her face, “I didn’t love Steve but, I love him,” she says truthfully and honestly.
She isn’t someone you have to worry about.
She isn’t someone who will take your temporary space, at least not now, not anymore.
But you still can’t find peace within you after this conversation, you can’t push aside the thoughts of him, of how much he still wants her, of how much he still loves her, of how much he wishes to be with her again, and it upsets you, even when it shouldn’t.
So, when you come home, you throw your bags on the stairs and make your way into the kitchen, you pick up the telephone and you call him, coming up with some weak excuse as to why you can’t see him tonight.
You want to see him, but you wouldn’t be able to control your feelings, you wouldn’t be able to hide the pain in your eyes. If Nancy wasn’t with Jonathan, she would be with Steve, and he would choose her, then and now.
You heard the sigh on the other end, the disappointed ‘okay… bye, Blondie.’ before you hung up the phone abruptly.
You want him, you want to be with him, you want to feel his touch, his hands on your skin, his lips on yours, and yet, you don’t at the same time, because right now, it would just hurt too much.
You need to calm your anxious thoughts, or you will give yourself away completely.
-
Two days.
It’s been two whole days since Steve had last seen you, and both his mind and his body were going crazy over the lack of you.
When you had called him on Wednesday evening, he was already waiting for you, giddy and excited for another night with you, but when you announced that you wouldn’t come, he felt deflected, a little crushed even, but he understood, you sounded tired and like you needed your rest, so he didn’t even try to convince you to let him come see you.
But the next day, there was no trace of you either, you didn’t call, you didn’t visit him at work, you didn’t come over, and when he tried to call you, you didn’t pick up the phone, you also weren’t home, your car wasn’t in your driveway, you were gone. And it made him feel… weird.
Because where were you?
You had never done anything like this before, always eager and ready for him, but never this.
He craved you so terribly, he wanted to see you, he wanted to hear your voice, to feel your touch, to feel your body beneath his.
He longed for you, and two days away from you, only showed him just how much of a hold you have over him.
The past two days went by so slowly, it was almost agonizing – just like the terrible music that blasts through Vickie’s house as more and more strangers make their way into her home, filling the empty spaces.
With his back against the wall, Steve stands there with his arms crossed over his chest, a bored expression on his face as he nods along to Eddie’s rambling about some band he had never even heard the name of, occasionally putting on his meanest face to glare at the people who give Eddie dirty looks. He can’t stand them.
He takes a sip of his coke, looking around the crowded room in search of you.
He knows you’re here, but he has yet to see you.
You came with Eddie, but while the latter instantly came to find him, you apparently left to find Robin, who he hasn’t seen in a while either.
He has been here for at least two hours now, and he is beginning to grow restless, wanting to just push himself away from the wall and go find you.
“--And I can’t wait to see them live, man! No more headbanging in my room,” Eddie laughs as he sips on his beer. “Judas Priest is sick! You gotta come with us, I’m sure Gareth won’t mind.”
“Mmm.” Steve nods, glancing at Eddie with a plastered smile on his face, he feels a bit bad for not listening to him, but Eddie doesn’t seem to mind, he continues talking.
Steve cranes his neck, looking into the kitchen, then into the hallway, and out into the backyard, trying to catch a glimpse of you, but all he sees are people he doesn’t care about.
The music is starting to give him a headache, and the smell of liquor and weed is beginning to make him feel hazy. He's not drinking, he’s got other plans that hopefully won’t be canceled tonight but the more time passes, and there is still no trace of you, his hope is beginning to dwindle, because a part of him starts to believe that you are doing this on purpose, not showing yourself to him.
Are you avoiding him?
The thought makes his chest ache weirdly, a feeling that he can’t even describe floods through his veins.
He doesn’t want you to avoid him, he doesn’t want you to stay away from him, he doesn’t want you to get bored of him.
“I got Robin to listen to my mixtape, you’re next, I’m telling you, you’re gonna be a metalhead in no time,” Eddie chuckles, bumping his shoulder into his, he pulls Steve out of his thoughts.
“Huh?” Steve furrows his brows at him before a forced laugh falls from his lips, “y-yeah, sure.”
Eddie snorts, knowing that he wasn’t listening to a single word he just said and still agreed. A smirk tugs at his lips, he tilts his head, “so, you’re gonna listen to it?”
Steve nods, pursing his lips as he scratches the back of his neck.
“Promise?” Eddie asks, almost cackling.
“Yeah, promise,” Steve shrugs.
Eddie shakes his head, bringing his beer up to his lips, “you’re gonna regret that,” he murmurs against the glass before he takes a sip.
Steve hates the music Eddie listens to, he’s hated every song he has shown him so far, but Eddie will take that promise in satisfaction, knowing that Steve never breaks any of his promises.
Eddie takes a look around the room, recognizing a few people from school, some of whom have already graduated the year before. The guy by the snack table is the one who catches his attention the most, he squints his eyes as he takes a better look at him – tall, dark blond, lean, the gold ring that he always wore on his middle finger, still in place. Jacob Leeney.
He hasn’t seen him since last year when Jacob was back from college for the weekend, the same weekend you made this guy lucky.
He wants to make a joke to Steve about it, knowing that he hates the football captain’s guts, when from the corner of his eye, he notices how Steve stands up straighter.
Every hope that began to dwindle, comes back in a rush when Steve sees you for the first time in two days.
You walk into the room with a drink in your hand, a smile on your lips that grows brighter when your eyes lock with his.
His own eyes light up at the sight of you, something in his chest swells with a feeling he grew unfamiliar to. His lips curl into a smile as he stares at your face for the longest time, before he lets his eyes roam your body, the exposed skin that isn’t covered by the pretty dress that you’re wearing, begging for his attention, begging to be marked up by his lips and to be touched by his hands.
If only he could look into his own reflection to see just how awestruck he looks at the sight of you, how you lit up the whole room for him with your presence. If only he was focused on the beating of his heart or the fluttering in his stomach, the butterflies he thought were long gone, rising back up and filling him with life.
Your skin is glowing beneath the dim fairy lights, your glossy lips that he craves to feel on his own, looking even more kissable than usual, and he already begins to count down the second until he can actually feel them.
You start making your way over to him, the platform heels that you’re wearing making you look taller than you are.
Steve licks his lips, having to fight the urge to just meet you halfway, throw you over his shoulder and get the hell out of here so he can have you all to himself.
Your eyes are locked with his, a blush creeps up on your face and you grow flustered beneath his stare, a sheepish smile tugging at your lips as you raise your hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear – good, nothing changed in those two days.
His excitement grows, the closer you get, he has nearly all forgotten about his friend next to him, about the other people in this room, but the reminder that it’s not just you and him in this room, catches up quickly, when the smile falls from your lips and your eyebrows furrow as a hand on your upper arm stops you, not enough to startle you, but enough to make you turn around in and look away from him.
Steve’s own smile falls, and he straightens his back even more.
He no longer sees your face, your expression or your reaction, but he sees him, Jacob Leeney. And the sight of him alone, is enough to turn the fire that you lit up inside of him, into raging flames. – And not because of the rivalry that was once between them, but because of what he had found out about you and the football captain not too long ago.
Steve can’t hear what he’s saying to you, but the smile, the smirk on Jacob’s face makes his blood boil. The look in his eyes as he stares you down, making him clench his jaw.
He pulls you into a hug, hand coming to rest between your shoulder blades, but not quite staying there, he moves it lower and lower until it rests dangerously low on your back as he hugs you for longer than necessary.
“Damn,” Eddie mumbles from beside him, “Leeney’s about to get another best fuck of his life,” he chuckles, repeating the words that the jock had said to him months back.
And it does little to calm Steve down.
“I mean, unless they’ve seen each other this week before, I heard that he was back in town… a few days ago,” Eddie shrugs, watching him closely.
He watches the way you take a step back, putting distance between you and Jacob after you pull away from the hug, but his hand lingers, not on your back anymore, but now on your elbow as he taps his fingers against your skin, talking to you with a look on his face that gives away his intentions. The sparkling in his eyes matches the one of his own, he wants you, he wants you badly. The interaction between you seems so… trusted, intimate.
And then, Steve registers what Eddie had said to him, just now.
A few days ago.
Steve freezes.
The cold shudder that runs through him, weakening the flames that just ignited.
Is that why you canceled your plans with him?
Is he the reason why you haven’t called?
Did you stand him up for Jacob?
Were you with him?
Did you let him kiss you?
Did you let him touch you?
Did you forget all about him?
He can’t decipher his own emotions at this very moment, too many are running through him, anger, frustrations… and a very ugly emotion that he won’t admit to feeling.
He takes a deep breath, unable to hide the frown on his face as he watches you.
Steve knew it, he knew that his own rule would come to haunt him, and he suddenly feels a deep regret for suggesting the inclusivity that allows you to see other people, he doesn’t want you to do that, he doesn’t want you to see other people, he wants to be the only one for you.
He is watching you, so closely, so intensely, glaring at the touchy man in front of you, like he’s ready to light him up with his own eyes for putting his hands on places only he should be allowed to touch.
Eddie slaps his shoulder, “I’ll be right back,” he announces before he scurries away from Steve who refuses to tear his eyes off of you.
He continues to watch you like a hawk, eyes not straying away from you and the man before you, and despite the intensity in his gaze, he is blind to your reactions, to the subtle, tiny steps you take to put distance between you and Jacob. All that Steve can see is the burning red that flashes in his eyes every time he touches you.
He sees the way your shoulders shake from laughter, the way you brush your hair back as you tilt your head up to look at him.
And the more time passes as you stand across the room, spending time with someone who isn’t him, he begins to grow impatient, restless.
You should be here, with him, by his side.
And he wants to show you that the only one you need is him. So, without a second of hesitation, he slams his drink on the table, and he lets his feet carry him over to you, no longer wanting to stand there and watch how someone else might steal you away from him, he won’t let it happen.
He let it happen with Nancy, he probably would’ve let it happen again if he was still with her, if this was her with Jonathan in front of him, he would’ve looked the other way, despite the aching in his chest.
But you aren’t Nancy, and his feelings, his reactions, his action that he’s about to take, didn’t fully sink in yet.
Once he is in earshot, Steve hears Jacob’s annoying, flirty voice.
“You’re the prettiest girl at this party.”
Your giggle follows, and it makes Steve’s skin crawl – if he wasn’t so driven by jealousy, and blinded by anger, he would’ve heard how fake it sounded.
“Oh, I don’t think so.”
Jacob chuckles, opening his mouth to speak, to throw some lame pick up line at you, probably.
But Steve doesn’t let him. Stepping up beside you, he places his hand on your back first, before he slides it down to your waist, gripping it tightly. The feeling of your body beneath his palm, your warmth and the way you melt into his touch after you turn and tilt your head to look at him, makes his stomach flutter pleasantly.
You step closer to him, relaxing further when he squeezes you with his large hand, though your eyes are wide and your lips are parted as you stare at him.
Right now, he can’t even find it in himself to care that your friends could see the intimacy between you and him, all he cares about is you and dragging you away so he can finally have you all to himself.
“Can I talk to you?” He asks, calmly.
Your wide eyes spark with curiosity as they look into his own, your glossy lips parting further for him as you come up with words, only to be cut off by Jacob.
“Oh hello, Harrington, long time no see!” The jock grins.
Steve clenches his jaw, but still turns to face him, biting back the distaste on his tongue, he nods at him, “yeah, yeah man, I’ll take her for a minute, okay?” He mumbles with squinted eyes and a fake smile on his lips as he points to you.
Before the blond can even respond, Steve’s hand leaves your waist, and moves over to your wrist. He grabs your much smaller hand and holds it tightly, giving it a squeeze as he pulls you away and begins to walk, basically dragging you out of the room, and you don’t protest, you follow him, without a single word, slamming your drink on the counter on the way out.
You both walk into the crowded hallway, and he pulls you closer to him when you pass by a group of guys who are talking rather loudly. He pushes you towards the stairs, bringing your hand up a little as he gets behind you.
He doesn’t even bother to look out for your friends, they aren’t on his mind right now and he finds himself not caring about who could see you together. He also doesn’t care about one of his many rules that he is about to break when he pushes you into an empty bathroom.
You switch the light on and let go of his hand when you walk in further.
Steve turns around to close and lock the door, his fingers linger on the handle as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.
“What’s wrong, did something happen?” You ask.
He opens his eyes again and turns around to face you, he raises his hand up, running it through his styled hair, he licks his lips as he lets his eyes roam your body for a second, taking a better look at the dress he hasn’t seen on you before, it must be new.
The light that shines on you from the ceiling is golden, making your soft skin glow, making it look even more delicate, more desirable. Your chest rises up and down heavily, a worried expression etched in your beautiful features as you stare at him with furrowed brows. Your pouty lips parted.
Can he blame Jacob for trying to go after you? Not really.
“Nope, nothing happened,” he mumbles as he makes his way over to you.
You shake your head a little, frowning, “then why–”
He practically lurches forward, cupping your cheeks, he leans down and presses his lips against yours, the way he wanted to, all night.
You squeal in surprise, a noise that only fuels his lust even more, prompting him to deepen the kiss roughly. He can taste the sweetness of rum and pepsi on your lips, the strawberry from your gloss, he can taste you, he can smell the intoxicating scent of your perfume, he can feel your arms around his shoulders now as you start moving your lips against his, picking up the pace to match the speed of his own.
He moans when your fingers get lost in his hair and your nails graze his scalp as you try to pull him closer against you.
He licks your bottom lip, parting it with his tongue so he can slip it into your mouth. You let him. His palm slides down to your jaw, he holds it there for a moment as his other hand moves down to your hip, gripping it tightly as he presses you against the counter behind you, fingers now playing with the flimsy material of your sundress.
A needy moan blesses his ears, the delicious sound rushing to his cock, making it stir in his pants that are now getting way too tight around his groin.
You place your hand on the back of his neck as you place your other on his chest, pressing yourself further against him as you kiss him with whimpers and a neediness that he thought only he was feeling.
God, he missed you.
But, did you miss him?
Did your lips touch someone else’s when you weren’t with him, where you were supposed to be?
The flames that are still raging inside of him, sparking a new kind of anger in him at the thought of it, it prompts him to do something that he has never done before – he bites your bottom lip, making you wince and moan at the pain.
He pinches your chin between his fingers, pulling away from the kiss to look at you.
With furrowed brows, you open your eyes to look at him, leaning back in to steal a kiss, but he keeps you in place, ignoring the whine that falls from your lips.
“Jacob Leeney, huh?” He mutters, instantly clenching his jaw after saying that name out loud. “Why did you talk to him, hm?”
Steve moves his hand under your dress.
“W-What?” You ask, shakily. “He was just talking to me about college.”
Right. That is the reason why he looked at you like he was ready to tear your dress off and devour you, right then and there.
“Right,” he mumbles, gritting his teeth in anger.
You stare at him with a frown on your face, tilting your head a little as you reach your hand up to wrap it around his wrist. And then, realization flashes in your eyes and your lips twitch a little.
“You plan on fucking him tonight, Blondie?” He sneers, unable to hide the bitterness in his voice.
You raise your eyebrows, pressing your lips together, he watches the way your throat bobs as you swallow.
The silence between you is nearly deafening, he can feel your breath on his thumb as he still holds your chin, he waits for you to answer his question.
Your eyes crinkle, and your lips curl into a smile before you suddenly burst into giggles, making his irritation feel worse than before.
Steve’s muscles tense up and he bites the insides of his cheeks, pressing his knee in between your thighs, he holds you tighter.
“Why are you laughing, huh?” He asks, as he leans closer to you, cupping your jaw again, he tilts your head to the side, making your giggles die down the moment he latches his lips onto your neck.
You suck in a sharp breath.
“Mmm, nothing,” you murmur, “w-what if I am? What if I do plan on fucking him?”
Steve has to hold back to growl, threatening to escape as he presses another rough kiss to your neck, his fingers now digging deeper into your hip.
“Well, I have a little priority here, don’t you think?” He murmurs against your skin.
“Wasn’t it you… the one who said no exclusivity, Steve?”
His breath stopped for a moment, regret gnawing up in his throat like vile. He wants to back out of that rule… but you are not his, so he waters it down.
“New rule then, Blondie,” he mumbles, not stopping with the kisses on your neck, “we leave with each other when we are at the same place. So, meaning today it’s me.”
You furrow your eyebrows at his words, questions already lingering in your mind.
You would always choose Steve.
There is no one else you would go home with.
And you can’t help but want him to know, but you don’t get to tell him because just as you open your mouth, Steve starts kissing your neck differently, intensely, roughly. He sucks on your neck, marking you up and blessing your delicate skin with hickeys as though he wants to show everyone that you’re his, that you belong to him.
And you do, you do belong to him, but he doesn’t know it.
He doesn’t know that your heart is his, that your mind and body is in his possession.
He doesn’t know how crazy you go over his touches, how your heart flutters at every slightest touch of his, how weak and vulnerable you feel when he holds you, how no one else could ever come close to make you feel the things that he can make you feel.
“How many drinks did you have, Blondie?”
“J-Just half of the drink I left downstairs,” you say, tilting your head to the side to give him more access to your neck.
“Just that?” He asks, “you’re not drunk, are you?”
You shake your head quickly, “no, not at all.”
“Good,” he nods.
Your eyes flutter shut when you feel his fingers on your ruined panties, he pushes them aside and slips his long fingers through your folds, dipping them inside of you before he pulls them back out to tease your clit, digits now coated with your slick.
You jerk a little, wrapping your arm around him so you can hold onto him, a needy moan escapes your mouth.
You could have had this on Wednesday night, you could have had this last night, but you were too busy worrying about something that filled your heart with pain.
“S-Steve!”
He gets lost in his feelings, lost in the rage, in the possessiveness and the urge to show you that he should be the only one for you. His teeth graze your neck, his lips suck harshly on your skin as he spreads you open with two fingers.
You mewl when he starts pumping them inside of you, in and out, deeply and slowly at first.
“Who are you so wet for, huh?” He asks, pulling away just enough so he can look at the marks he left, appreciating the sight in front of him for a second, before he pulls your face towards him, gripping your chin tighter than before, his thumb now lingering on your bottom lip. “Tell me, Blondie”
You open your eyes, revealing to him just how dark they are, how much lust lingers in them.
“You, Stevie! Just you!” You whine needily before you wrap your lips around his thumb, catching him off guard, once again. You swirl your tongue around it, looking into his hazel eyes as you start sucking, you watch the way they widen and darken, the tension in his jaw now leaving as he is only focused on this, on you.
“Fuck,” he murmurs under his breath, picking up the pace of his fingers, he drags them out of you and slams them back in, nearly moaning himself when he listens to the squelching noises as he finger-fucks you, “just me?”
Your jaw drops and you throw your head back, letting go of him to hold onto the edges of the counter, he has got you pressed against at. You nod quickly, “yes, yes! Just you, only you!” You ramble as you squeeze your eyes shut again, enjoying the feeling of his fingers inside of you.
“Good.”
Steve can feel how you clench around him, how you’re already so close even though he didn’t even get started yet. He leans in to peck your lips as he curls his fingers inside of you, and he presses his thumb against your clit, rubbing it slowly.
He feels himself growing harder – the feeling of your tight, wet walls around his fingers being too much, along with the needy moans that keep falling from your pretty lips.
He stares at you, watching the way your nipples poke through the thin material of your dress – of course, you’re not wearing a bra. You bite your lip, your brows are knit together, and your head falls to the side as you let yourself get lost in the feeling he provides you with.
Not Jacob, definitely not Jacob.
The jock could never make you feel this, he is so sure of it, and yet, Steve can’t shake the thoughts of you and him together.
Would you be this wet for him too?
Would you moan so prettily for him?
Would you be so needy for him?
The anger just won’t leave him, it refuses to, it has him in its tightest grip, urging him to prove something to you.
His chest heaves up and down heavily, his darkened eyes are nearly black now.
You’re close, he can feel that you are with the way you’re clenching around him, but he doesn’t let you cum like this tonight, so he pulls his fingers out of you.
Your eyes shoot open and your lips part as you’re about to protest, pouting at him. He grabs your hips with both of his hands, turning you around abruptly, he bends you over the counter and presses himself against you, and he chuckles darkly when you gasp at his action.
Steve reaches for the hem of your dress and he flips it over, exposing your ass to him and the lacy thong you’re wearing, he groans at the sight of it, unable to hold back, he rears his hand back before he smacks his large palm against your skin, slapping your ass harshly.
Steve has never, never treated a girl roughly before, not any of his hookups, not Nancy, but then again, he never had this much fun with any of them. Letting go of his inhibitions, taking what he wants for once, and the fact that you let him, and even love it, makes him go feral.
But as the realization sinks in of what he had done, his eyes widen as fear rushes through him, worried that he had gone too far, but you ease his mind with the filthy whimper that sounds through the room as you press your ass against his dick, rubbing it against him as though you’re asking for more.
He can’t help but chuckle, the shock and the fear vanishing just as quick as it came.
“Oh, you like that, Blondie?” He asks as he presses his palm against your ass, this time not slapping it, but grabbing it roughly, making you whine again. “Of course you fucking do,” he murmurs as he lets go, only to smack you once more, making you gasp his name in pleasure.
“Please!”
He looks at your reflection in the mirror, needy eyes meeting his.
“Please what?” He asks as he unbuckles his belt and pops the button of his jeans, he reaches for the condom in his back pocket – mentally thanking his needy self for placing one there before he left his house, in hopes that he would get this.
“Please, fuck me!”
He pushes his jeans and boxers down, just enough to free himself, not wasting any more time, he rips apart the foil and throws the empty packet on the ground, making quick work of rolling the condom over his length. With his chin against his chest, he looks down, stroking his dick for good measure, his spit curl falls in front of his eyes, but he doesn’t bother to push it out of the way, he looks up through hooded eyes, glancing at you through the mirror, he almost wants to chuckle at the desperation in your eyes, but it gets stuck in his throat when you push your ass back against his dick, whining.
His stomach flutters seeing you so desperate for no one but him.
He grabs your hip with his left hand, pressing himself against you, he teases both you and himself by slipping his shaft through your wet folds, he watches the way you look at him, begging for more with your eyes as you push yourself up a little.
He presses his palm against your lower back, pushing you down so your chest is flush against the marble counter, he lines up with your entrance and pushes inside of you slowly. Waves of pleasure rush through him in an instant. You scrunch your face up, lips parting as a sigh escapes you.
You throw your hand back, reaching for his forearm, you grab it tightly as you shut your eyes and drop your head a little, your hair falls in front of your face, hiding all your pretty features.
Steve looks down, watching his cock disappear into your weeping pussy.
“You take me so well, holy shit,” he murmurs under his breath. And it was the truth, you take him like no other, making you the most addictive.
He sinks into you, deeper and deeper, stretching you out and splitting you open, the tension inside of him grows and his heartbeat increases. He pulls out again, watching the way the condom around him glistens with your slick – how he wishes that he could feel you without it. He slams back in, making you gasp and arch your back in pleasure. He starts thrusting, in and out, deeply and slowly at first, but with an intensity that makes you open your eyes again.
“Steve!”
“That’s right,” He grunts, reaching his hand forward, he grabs your hair and tilts your head back up, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror as he moves his hips faster, quickening his pace until he’s pounding you. “Look at who’s fucking you right now, Blondie.”
The loudest moan falls from your lips, and you instantly bring your hand up to cup your mouth, panic flashing in your lust filled eyes. Despite the loud music, you are scared that someone might hear you, and it only prompts him to fuck you harder and rougher against the counter, holding you tighter as heat spreads in his chest – who do you want to hide from? Your friends, or Jacob?
But while Steve worries about something that isn’t even on your mind, you are so far gone, so lost in the pleasure that you feel because of him, your insides so sensitive already, yet aching for more. You focus on the way he thrusts in and out of you, how heavenly it feels to feel him inside of you, to feel him in your stomach.
You are so drunk on him that there is not a single thought in your brain, only him.
No one has ever done this to you, no one has ever made you feel so weak, so submissive, so lost in the heat of the moment, no one has ever taken such control – you wouldn’t have let them, only he can have this.
Your eyes turn glassy, rolling back as you throw your head back, your weak hand falling from your face again.
“Yeah, as if that asshole could fuck you like this,” he grunts, letting go of your hair and moving his hand forward to cup your cheeks, “say it. Say no one can fuck you like this, Blondie, because I know it’s true.”
Your walls clench and flutter around him, a cry leaving you as he pulls your ass up a little, slamming in and out of you, hitting the spot that makes tears fall from your eyes, making him even more aroused than before.
“Only you, Steve!” You sob as a tear spills down your cheek and onto his thumb.
Your knees buckle and your body begins to tremble, sobs and moans turn into needy whines and whimpers, your flustered face decorated with pretty tears making his muscles tense in his stomach.
You try to keep quiet as you press your lips together, trying to breathe calmly through your nose despite the pounding in your chest, when he suddenly changes the pace again, pounding you so hard that he knocks you forward, hitting so deep inside of your squelching pussy, that you can’t help but cry out loudly as stars blur your vision.
“Stevie, Stevie, Stevie!”
Steve nearly busts, eyes widening at the way you chant his name so desperately. His hips stutter a little and he has to suck in a sharp breath, eyes shutting for a moment. He twitches inside of you, and it doesn’t help that you keep clenching.
The sound of the music, of laughter and voices outside are so far away, the only thing you both hear are your moans and how wet you are as his skin slaps against yours.
He slows down a little, enough to make you whine again, to make you move back against him, trying to fuck yourself on his cock.
“F-Fuck,” Steve moans, he opens his eyes again, reaching forward, he grabs your shoulder and pulls you up and against his chest before he lets his hand travel down your stomach, he pushes your dress out of the way, and his fingers find their way to your clit.
A high pitched moan echoes through the room, your body shakes harder and you grab his forearm tightly as he rubs circles on your sensitive nub.
He presses his lips to your neck, moaning himself as the tension in his stomach grows bigger and bigger. He kisses your delicate skin, his mouth brushing the dark marks he left.
You cling to him, nails grazing his skin, you press the side of your face against his, staining his cheek with your tears.
“I know, baby, I know.”
If only he knew just how such a simple yet special word affects your heart, making it beat faster and harder in your chest, setting all your insides on fire and igniting something in you that throws you into a pit of love and glee.
Steve had never called you this before, and you could only dream of such sweet nicknames, until now.
Your eyes roll back again, eyelashes fluttering as you squeeze them shut completely, mouth ajar as filthy noises fall. You’d fall over if it wasn’t for his strong arms holding you up, his fingers moving so fastly on your clit, his dick so deep inside of you, his lips biting gently on your skin, all it takes is another rough thrust and your body begins to shake for a different reason, you fall apart for him, once again.
You don’t even feel yourself drooling, you no longer feel the tears spilling down your cheeks.
“Good girl,” he whispers into your ear, kissing the spot behind it before he grabs your chin and tilts your head to the side so he can press his lips against yours, pulling you into a soft kiss as he keeps fucking you, chasing his own high.
Steve furrows his brows, his muffled moan vibrating against your lips as he gives one last powerful thrust and spills into the condom, secretly wishing that he could spill inside of you and paint your walls white instead.
His body relaxes after the high it had been on for the past minutes, muscles loosening, but lips still moving gently against yours.
Both yours and his moans die down after a moment, but you’re still panting, trying to catch your breaths as you pull away from one another. You open your eyes, and look into his, the blackness slowly fading away and you see the pretty hazel color again. His tongue licks his bottom lip, eyes flickering between your own and the marks he left on your neck.
A lazy smile appears on your face and you feign confidence as you tilt your head to the side and reach your hand up to move the spit curl away from his forehead, the tips of your fingers brushing his skin, he holds you tighter in response.
“I didn’t think you could get so jealous, Steve,” you whisper, ‘jokingly’ but most of all, painfully to yourself.
You’d hope that he was jealous, that all of this was the result of the burning red emotion, but why would he feel jealous over you?
Just the presence of Jacob was enough to bruise Steve’s ego. That’s all that it was.
You know he never liked the jock, and the fact that he got his hands on you first, must’ve hit a nerve. But it has nothing to do with you. Steve is not jealous of who you sleep with, he doesn’t care. He is just bruised cause he felt threatened with an ex hook-up you had, afraid of them stealing you for tonight.
Steve huffs at your words, shaking his head at you. He pulls out of you with a hiss, cursing under his breath.
“Well, did you think I’d let him steal you away from me…?” He asks, clearing his throat as he adds, “tonight?”
And then he looks down, not wanting to show his face, to show how jealous he really is.
He doesn’t need you to know that.
He slips his hand between your thighs again, adjusting your panties and putting them back in place before he fixes your dress, pushing it back down over your ass.
Your eyes soften at his action, heart fluttering in your chest.
It’s not the first time he does this, he always takes care of you – he cleans you up, he helps you put a shirt on your body whenever you stay over, whenever you’re too weak to move. He is good to you, gentle and soft, and that is dangerous, because despite the thoughts in your head, the logical part that tells you the truth, his actions keep putting false hope into your heart.
You grab the counter, and on shaky feet, you step closer and hold onto it tightly, watching as he fixes himself next, throwing the condom and the discarded foil into the trash, he tucks himself back into his pants and steps towards the counter beside you to wash his hands.
His lips are stained with your lipstick, his hair is messy and his cheeks are flushed – he looks so cute like this.
You tear your eyes away from him and finally look at your own reflection, your eyes widen and you gasp in shock – not at the mascara that runs down your face, the messy hair or just how puffy your lips are, no, this is not exactly an unusual sight to see, but the marks on your neck are, because they are so much bigger and darker than they usually are.
You throw your hand up towards your neck and turn to face him, “what the fuck, Steve?”
He winces, quickly drying his hands before he turns to face you, as well. Eying your hand that is covering the hickeys he left, your big eyes filled with panic. He can’t help but think you look cute like this, with your hair all messy and your lips curled into a pout.
“H-How am I gonna hide–”
He grabs your face and pulls you into a soft kiss, just a quick peck, one that is enough to cut you off.
“You think I’m done with you and we’re gonna go back to the party?” He chuckles, caressing your cheek as he pulls away from your puckered lips, “no, we’re leaving, Blondie.”
You gulp at his words and squeeze your aching thighs together as excitement rises back up in you.
“So, fix yourself and meet me downstairs,” he murmurs, placing another soft kiss to your lips before he pulls away. “I’ll wait by the front door.”
He takes another look at your neck, hiding his satisfied smirk by turning around. He unlocks the door and opens it, leaving you alone in the bathroom as he makes his way downstairs to find Eddie or Robin, to announce that he will be driving home a very sick Blondie.
While a smirk keeps playing on his lips, you are panicking in the bathroom, not knowing how to hide the marks he left, what lie to come up with this time if Eddie sees and asks questions again.
You do your best to fix your hair, running your fingers through it and wiping away the mascara streaks on your cheeks, and the smudged lipstick, that you only now realize, is still on his lips, he didn’t even bother to wipe it away – what an idiot.
You step back and take a look at your dress, smoothing it down and moving your hands back to your hair. The marks on your neck are so strong, so very visible, you’re not even sure if foundation and concealer will be able to hide this. A groan falls from your lips.
You should do the same to him, he surely won’t fix it with makeup.
You press your palm against your neck, testing out how it will look if you just go out like this.
“This looks so stupid,” you mutter to yourself, rolling your eyes.
You pray that you won’t run into any of your friends on the way out, all you have to do is make it downstairs and to the front door. You haven’t seen much of Eddie before, and Robin is too busy with Vickie anyways.
You take a deep breath and then you step out of the bathroom and into the hallway. It’s not as crowded as it is downstairs, but there are still a few people you have to pass, as you awkwardly keep your hand on your neck, pretending to scratch it.
You feel eyes on you, but you don’t bother to turn around to look at them, not even caring if they heard you and Steve – as long as your friends didn’t hear, you’re good.
Your legs are shaky, and walking in your platform heels feels like a workout after Steve just railed you into oblivion, your stomach still flutters, yet feeling empty at the lack of him.
You walk down the stairs, carefully. You hope that your knees won’t buckle.
The party is still in full swing, some Billy Idol song blaring through the speakers as the living room is still filled with dancing people. Red solo cups are everywhere, empty bottles and cans litter the counters and tables – poor Vickie will regret throwing a party when she wakes up tomorrow morning.
Your eyes fall on him, the smug look on his face making you huff in annoyance. Steve enjoys seeing you struggle after what he just did to you, he licks his lips as his eyes run up and down your body, they flash with amusement when they fall on your hand, you see the way his shoulders shake, he is chuckling at you as he plays with the car keys in his hand. Smug bastard.
You roll your eyes at him, and turn away, looking around to see if any of your friends are around, but the only people you see are strangers and a few known faces from school, you sigh in relief, knowing that you won’t have to lie into Eddie’s or Robin’s face. You return your gaze to Steve whose face is suddenly no longer as smug as it was a few seconds ago, his eyes aren’t even on you anymore, but rather on someone behind you as he looks over your shoulder.
Someone calls your name, someone who is the reason for the rage on Steve’s face that you had already seen before.
You turn around when your name is being called again, to find Jacob walking towards you. Oh.
You grow flustered knowing that the fucked out look on your face is so very obvious. You can’t even hide it.
He catches up to you, and he reaches his hand out to place it on your upper arm, “hi, there you are,” he smiles, towering over you. He is tall, much taller than you, even taller than Steve.
You greet him back, forcing a smile.
He furrows his brows as his eyes scan your face, his smile falling a little, a frown appearing instead, “are you okay?” He asks, worriedly. “Do you feel sick?”
You shake your head and open your mouth to speak when the words get stuck in your throat after his hand leaves your arm and comes to rest on your face instead, surprising you and angering Steve.
“Do you need me to take you home?” He asks, caressing your cheek.
You would have moved, but you are frozen in place as you stare at him, completely caught off guard by his action and the look in his eyes.
“I-I…”
A different hand appears on your lower back, one that your body instantly recognizes, because your skin heats up and your chest blooms with warmth – it’s scary how well your body knows him.
Steve pulls you into his side, wrapping his arm around you, “I got her, she’s in good hands, Leeney.”
Sometimes you wish that he knew how you felt about him, how your heart nearly explodes every time he says something only a boyfriend should say – maybe then, he would take pity on you and your heart.
You melt into his touch, the smell of his cologne is so intoxicating.
Jacob retracts his hand, he looks between you and Steve, his shoulders slumping a little as he steps back, he looks down at you, nodding, “alright.”
“Come on,” Steve murmurs, squeezing your waist as he begins to pull you away, wanting you away from the jock and towards the front door.
“Bye Jacob–”
“Wait,” he rushes forward, and reaches for your hand, placing a folded note into your palm. “Here, I’m not making the same mistake again.” He gives your hand a squeeze and smiles at you, not waiting for your response, he steps away and takes another glance at Steve, before he turns around and leaves.
You stare at the note in your hand, you don’t have to open it to know what’s written on the paper.
You fail to notice the absolute rage in Steve’s eyes, how much more intense it is than before, how tense the muscles in his jaw are, how it takes everything in him not to slam you against the wall and kiss you in front of Jacob and everyone else.
He pulls you out of the house without a single word, he grabs your hand instead as he leads you outside, he shuts the door and the sound of music and the many voices begin to fade away as you both make your way to his car, which he parked on the side of the road.
Your heels click against the cobblestone, your hands hold tightly onto his, you’re quiet, and so is he, but a storm is raging in his mind, and everything he felt before, now feels so much worse.
Can he keep you when there’s other people who want you just as much as he does? – And even, in different, much more intimate ways?
He saw the way Jacob looked at you, he wasn’t only interested in another quick fuck, he wanted more, and it irritates Steve, it makes his stomach churn uncomfortably, it makes his heart clench in his chest – it shouldn’t, there is nothing more between you than this, and yet, he is scared to lose it, the little secret that you both have, he isn’t ready to let it go, he isn’t ready to let you go and watch you fall into someone else arms.
He wants to keep you, and he will do everything to make it stay that way.
He knows that there is only one way to show you that he is the only you will ever need. At least, for now.
He opens the passenger door and lets go of your hand so you can get inside, eying the note that is still in your other hand. He closes the door once you’re seated, and he makes his way around his BMW, when he gets inside as well, he notices the now unfolded note in your lap and the number that’s written on it.
He grits his teeth but bites back his bitter words.
You won’t call him, he will make sure of that.
It’s not easy to focus on the drive when his mind is in such a whirlwind and his eyes keep glancing back at the note in your lap, that you folded back together again.
You aren’t looking at it any longer, your eyes are focused on the road and the passing trees.
“What do you plan to do with that number, Blondie?” He asks, unable to hold back and hide the jealousy this time.
You narrow your eyes at him, taking a look at his hands, you see how hard he is gripping the steering wheel when you take in the sight of his knuckles. The veins in his hands nearly popped. You gulp as your eyes move along his arm, muscles that are hidden beneath the black sleeve of his shirt peeking out just a little, his cheeks are red, his jaw clenched.
He is angry, but a part of you can see through your insecurities.
It’s not only his ego that was bruised, it’s not only the anger that shines through, there is more, so much more.
The jealousy that only you ever felt is lingering in his eyes.
He is jealous.
Steve is jealous over you.
And there is really no reason for him to feel that way, but you can’t stop the rush of excitement and happiness that floods through your body.
If he felt that way before he dragged you into the bathroom, over an innocent conversation, what will he do now that Jacob has made an entirely new move?
Will you get another taste of what he gave you before?
Will he call you baby again?
You’re stepping into a dangerous territory, you know it, but the thrill over it makes heat pool in your stomach.
“I don’t know, Lego Head,” you shrug, trying to keep a straight face as you look at him, “maybe I’ll keep it… You know, for when you don’t answer your phone.” You lie as you pick the note back up.
Steve huffs, shaking his head in disbelief.
He rolls down the window, giving you no time to react, he snatches the note from your hand and wastes no second to throw it out onto the road, letting it get lost in the darkness.
“Hey!” You gasp as your eyes widen.
“Whoops, my hand slipped,” he flashes you an innocent smile as he closes the window again.
“What if I want to call him!?”
Your question makes him grip the wheel even tighter, knuckles turning white.
“You don’t need him,” he mumbles.
You sit up straighter, raising your brows at him, “oh really? I don’t? Why’s that?”
Steve can’t take it any longer, the feelings inside of him boiling over, controlling all his actions now.
He pulls the car off the main road, and drives into the isolated wooded area that leads to a stream, a hidden part of Lovers Lake that he only ever came to when he needed to clear his head.
He slams his foot on the brakes and turns off the car, turning off the lights and unbuckling the seatbelt, he turns to you in anger, “because you literally just said no one can fuck you like I can!”
Your heart begins to race, goosebumps rise on your skin, and you press your palms against the leather seat beneath you. The giddiness inside of you is now so difficult to keep hidden.
“Ah, so that should make you exclusive,” you smirk, tilting your head to the side, “okay, well, maybe he got better–”
You don’t even get to finish your sentence, you don’t get to taunt him anymore as he turns his back to you and gets out of the car, slamming the door shut and rounding the car to get to you, he rips open the door on your side.
“You don’t learn, do you?”
“W-What?”
“Get out.” He demands, not nicely.
You frown at him, watching his stance and how angry he looks at you.
“What the fuck–”
“Get out,” he repeats, in a much calmer yet angrier voice.
You shiver at his command, and you take a deep breath as you unfasten your seatbelt, your heels hit the grass as you get out of the car. Steve places his hand on your back and pushes you out of the way so he can close the door before he opens the one to the backseat. He glares into your eyes, “get in.”
Your frown transforms into a look of complete confusion as you look between his hand and the seat that he points at.
“You’re making me change seats?”
He steps closer to you, “get the fuck inside, right now.”
The demanding, aggressive tone in his voice doesn’t make you question him again, you swallow harshly and turn around, you place your hands on the leather seats as you crawl inside, moaning in surprise when he smacks your ass again.
He chuckles darkly behind you, “you really like that huh?”
You glare at him over your shoulder, earning another slap to your other cheek, making you jerk and whine.
He chuckles again and follows you inside, closing the door behind him, “noted.”
The leather beneath you is cold, and you grip it tightly, sucking in a sharp breath, and just as you go to turn around and sit down, Steve’s strong hands grab at your hips, flipping you over and manhandling you underneath his body as he forces you to lie down on your back. He pushes your thighs apart, settling in between them, he presses his palms flat against the seat on both sides of your head.
A shiver runs down your spine, not from fear, but from excitement, because he probably didn’t want you to realize he was jealous, but he is showing you. He is clearly showing you and you can’t help but feel absolutely happy, accomplished.
You know that you’re in for something when you look into his eyes – you can’t even find the right words to describe the emotions that are lingering in them, but they make your inside flutter so wildly, you feel the need to clench your thighs together as he looms over you, but you can’t, he doesn’t let you.
His nose brushes against yours, his hair falls in front of his eyes as he inches closer to you, his breath kissing your skin.
“Has anyone ever put you in your place, Blondie?” He asks as he drums his finger along your shoulder, hooking it around the strap of your dress.
“W-What?” You stutter, hating how weak and shaky your voice sounds.
“I’m taking that as a no.”
Steve drags the strap down, and he leans down to press his lips against your shoulder, “I wanted to be nice, baby,” he murmurs against your skin, “wanted to take care of you, but fuck, you leave me no choice.”
You squirm beneath him, digging your nails into the flesh of your legs as you furrow your brows at his words.
His lips ghost over your collarbone, his hand now pushing your dress down a little, he exposes your chest to him, and he traces the outline of your breast before his fingers pinch your nipple, making you whine again.
“Time for you to understand–” He murmurs as he plants a kiss to your jaw, “-- that I’m the only one you need.”
His movements are soft, his touches are gentle but to your surprise, they don’t stay that way, after a few more kisses, he flips the bottom part of your dress over, bunching it around your waist, he hooks his finger around your panties and tears them off of you, throwing them over his back, not caring where they land. His fingers trace your legs, hands finding their way to your heels, he unfastens the straps around your ankles, and takes them off before he returns his attention to where you need him the most.
He teases you with his fingers, torturing your clit and chuckling darkly at the whines that start filling the space around you.
Steve had been intense and rough before, but one look into his face shows you that you will get more tonight, so much more.
He splits you open with his fingers again, sinking them into your soaked hole, he fucks you with them, he taunts you with his words and sucks more marks onto your skin, littering the other side of your neck and your chest with hickeys. He makes you see stars with the way he curls his digits inside of you and rubs your clit.
To your surprise and confusion, he doesn’t let you cum, he pulls his fingers out and stops touching you when you’re about to fall apart, just like he did before in the bathroom. Nothing like this ever happened before.
You don’t think anything of it at first, not when he seems desperate to fill you up in a different way. He fumbles with his pants and pushes them down, along with his boxers. He rolls a condom over his length again, one of many he has in the glove compartment because sometimes you two don’t even reach a bed when seeing each other, rushing to do it just as he did earlier, your mouth waters at the sight of his leaking, red tip.
“C’mere,” he murmurs, grabbing your waist and pulling your weakened body on top of him, you instantly reach for his shoulders, grabbing them tightly as he gives you no time to react before he makes you sink down on his cock – you don’t mind. You are so needy, so wet for him that your juices soak your inner thighs.
But you need to feel his skin on yours, so you reach for the hem of his shirt, and pull it over his head, he leans forward as you rip it off of him. You throw it on the seat and wrap your arms around his naked shoulders, pressing yourself against his hairy chest.
You are the first to start moving, rolling your hips and riding him slowly, but he isn’t satisfied with that, he wants something else, he wants more.
Steve makes you bounce on his dick, he holds your hips harshly and uses you as though you’re a fleshlight, filling you to the brim and slamming you up and down on his dick, fucking you rather disrespectfully.
He makes you fall forward, as your eyes shut at the roughness and the intensity. He is buried so deep inside of you, you’re not sure if you have ever felt this before. Tears blur your vision again that night, moans turn into whimpers and whimpers into cries, the pleasure so strong, so overwhelming.
You throw your hand against the fogged up window, slamming your palm against it, leaving a handprint there for him.
No words escape you, not even his name, the only thing you can do is fall limply against his body and hide your face in the crook of his neck as drool starts coming out of your mouth but the moment it touches his skin, Steve grabs the back of your neck and pulls you back to him again, so he can see your face.
“Does he even get to see you like this?” He grunts, fucking up into you and watching the way you squeeze your crying eyes shut. “Drooling? Crying? I bet I’m the only one you’ve ever been this cock drunk for… aren’t I?”
You nod your head wildly, panting and gasping as pain and pleasure mix together. He thinks it’s just physical, but there is so much more to it. You knew you would turn into this for him and just him, you’ve always known.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
Steve lets go of your neck, making you fall back against him, he decides to tease you more by smacking your ass, causing you to jolt and whimper, filling him with satisfaction.
He makes your pleasure the more unbearable, causing you to clench around him.
And just like before, just as you’re so close to reaching your peak, he stops your movements all together, filling you with anger now, making you snap out of the haze he put you into. He stills and grabs you tightly, so you won’t move, he lifts you up and off his cock, biting back a groan.
“W-What the fuck, Steve?” You cry out, “I-I was so close!”
His eyes are nearly unrecognizable when he squeezes your cheeks together with one hand, forcing you to look at him. The angry sight in front of you, only makes you clench around him even harder.
“You’re not cumming until I say so, Blondie.” It was stern, but Steve had a point to make, he needs to make it happen.
You aren’t even aware of what is going on inside of his troubled mind, you could never even guess, not even when he flips you over and throws you down under him, placing your left leg over his shoulder.
The position is quite cramping, but you forget about any kind of pain, when he sinks back inside of you and starts pounding into you with a force that makes the stars shine brighter and your heart race faster.
Steve is not even focused on his pleasure, despite how good you feel around him, all that he can think about is your pleasure. He gives his all, he gives everything to kill any memory of what any of your other hookups did to you, of the pleasure they made you feel, of the pleasure he once made you feel.
He snaps his hips into yours, fucking you so deeply and roughly, making his dick ache in pleasure.
He surely never fucked anyone this way before. He never felt this angry before.
He watches you closely, the way your pussy flutters around his dick, the way you grip the leather beneath you, nearly ripping through it with your nails as tears of pleasure stream down your face and you tilt your head to the side with furrowed brows, your tits bouncing as he slams you back and forth on the seats.
Your moans are so loud that anyone who were to pass by, would freak out and almost faint or call the cops.
He is not even touching your clit, not even grazing it with his fingers, not giving it any pleasure again… yet. But he feels your fluttering walls, how tight you are getting around him, how high pitched your moans are getting – you are close, so close.
And so is he, he keeps thrusting in and out of you, not tearing his eyes off of your beautiful face as he chases his own high, roughly and deeply. Your name falls from his lips, and his hips stutter as he finishes into the condom, groaning as your walls grip him tightly.
Steve pulls out of you reluctantly, stopping your pleasure once again.
He pulls your leg off his shoulder gently and places it back on the seat, giving it a squeeze.
His chest heaves up and down, he breathes heavily as he stares at you, biting back the chuckle when your eyes shoot open and a bewildered look crosses your face, the tears in your eyes still shining brightly as you raise yourself up on your elbows, frowning angrily at him.
“You– I’m going to fucking kill you, Steve, it’s not fair!” Your bottom lip trembles, you are clearly very frustrated with him.
He looks down to hide the amusement on his face, taking the condom off, he ties it up and throws it on the ground, making a mental note to throw it away later on.
Steve tugs himself back into his boxers and pulls his pants up, not bothering with his belt just yet.
He shakes his head at you when you squeeze your thighs together, hiding yourself from him. He hooks his hands around your knees, pulling you closer against him before he tears them apart again, exposing your glistening swollen pussy to him.
He licks his lips as he hooks your leg around his hip, holding it there as brings his other hand back to your center, he bites down on his lip, looking at you with mischief in his eyes as he delivers a slap to your clit.
“Wha– Steve!” You gasp in surprise and if he weren’t so determined, so centered on you, he would have been surprised by his action too.
“Don’t worry,” he murmurs, using his pointer finger to tease your slit, he spreads your folds apart, and slips his middle finger and ring finger into your sopping pussy, he focuses on your face.
Your angry features slowly relax again, mouth parting as he starts to move his fingers again, this time he does aim for your orgasm… and more.
He moves slowly at first, rocking his fingers in and out of you, moaning himself at the noises he draws from your pussy.
Despite the pleasure that you’re falling back into again, you grow flustered at the noises and raise your hands up to your face, covering it and hiding yourself from him, but your action only earns you another slap to your clit.
“Uh uh,” Steve shakes his head at you, letting go of your leg, he reaches forward and grabs both of your wrists with one hand, dragging your hands away from your face, “don’t hide from me.”
“But–”
He curls his fingers into your g-spot, tearing a gasp from you.
“No buts,” he grumbles, as he moves steadily, fingering your pussy roughly now. He angles his hand differently, the end of his palm now brushing against your aching clit every time he thrusts his fingers deeply into you.
He shuts you up quickly, making every word, every sentence get caught in your throat.
His left hand fondles your boobs, your waist, your stomach, your hip – he touches you everywhere, leaving every inch of your skin burning with desire. His fingertips dig deeply into your leg as he keeps you spread open, his thigh keeping your other leg from closing, as he abuses your cunt with his fingers that are much longer than your own.
Your back arches in pleasure, your sensitive core crying for more.
The feeling inside of you is different, new, but you aren’t surprised by it, he edged you three or four times tonight, tears of frustration fell from your eyes, those tears that are now caused by pleasure and sensitivity.
Your whimpers are so erotic to him, just like the wetness he can hear as he is knuckles deep inside of you, stretching you open. He can see the goosebumps on your skin and the way your stomach tenses up, the way your breathing stutters.
You are in bliss, he can see it on your face, there is not a single thought in that pretty head of yours.
He leans down, pressing into you as he inches closer to your face, pecking your lips, “no one else can make you feel like this… no one.” He whispers against your lips, placing another kiss upon them before he moves to your marked up neck, ghosting over it and inching down to your chest, trailing kisses along the way to your boobs. He wraps his lips around your nipple, looking up at you, he begins to suck, adding more pleasure to your body.
You belong to him.
“Steve!” You whimper, throwing your hands into his hair, you let your fingers get lost in it.
He moans against you, quickening the pace of his fingers, curling them even harder inside of you, making you shudder at the feeling, jolting even when he presses his thumb against your swollen clit.
You tremble beneath him, the wave of pleasure being so strong that a sob falls from your lips, your fingers curling into his hair roughly, “fuck… baby,” you whine.
A surprised whimper falls from his own lips, the nickname stopping every thought in his mind, for a second.
Baby, Baby, Baby…
No one has ever called him that, no one. The fact that you are the first, somehow makes it better, and he doesn’t even know why.
The coil inside of you grows bigger and bigger, an unfamiliar feeling bubbles in your lower stomach, making drool form on your tongue and stars blur your vision. Your nerves feel as though they are on fire, your skin prickling as he fucks you roughly.
“I-I’m so close,” you whimper and scrunch your face up as you move your hips a little, meeting his thrusts.
He is so lost in you and your moans, he doesn’t even realize that he is biting, tugging on your nipple with his teeth until a new, higher moan escapes you.
“O-Oh my god,” you whisper shakily as your eyes roll back, “S-Steve! That feels so good!”
“Yeah?” He murmurs against you, lips returning to your neck, he pecks it a few times as he looks down, watching the way your thighs tremble, the way the muscles in your stomach tense so tightly and your chest rises up and down so much heavier than before, “your thighs are shaking so much… holy shit.”
The pressure inside of you becomes so overwhelming, it feels a lot, it feels too much.
“S-Steve,” you tremble, “t-that feels weird.”
Your voice sounds so small, unsure, yet the moans won’t stop escaping you.
“No, baby, you’re doing so good,” he whispers as he lets go of your leg, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek, he wipes your tears and brushes your hair out of your face, pressing his thumb against your bottom lip, “just trust me… let go for me.”
You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes, not even when he starts peppering your face with kisses.
The pleasure is too much, the pressure makes you panic slightly, but he doesn’t stop, if anything, he fucks you harder and faster with his fingers, keeping them curled inside of you, his palm keeps brushing your overstimulated clit. He is hoping to get what he has been seeking. You haven’t trembled this much before, and he is confident, he is so confident that you won’t forget this, that you won’t forget how he made you feel, that you won’t forget him.
“C’mon,” he murmurs against your lips, “I know you want to.”
Your bottom lip shakes, the pressure threatening to explode inside of you, every inch of your body now burning and quivering.
You let go of his hair and throw your hand down to wrap your fingers around his wrist, your eyes open, and you look at him through your blurry vision.
Your moans and the squelching that gets louder and louder, sounds that are like music to his ears, making his stomach flutter and his dick twitch again – to his own surprise.
“I-I can’t– too much, Steve!” You whine, nearing an edge you have never touched before, “I’m gonna–”
You never get to finish your sentence, because as Steve plunges his fingers in even deeper, and curls them harder. You can only throw your head back, a mix between a squeal and a whimper falling.
Steve nearly stops all of his movements when you clench around his fingers like a vice.
Your hips jerk upwards as liquids shoot out of you, and he gets to where he wanted.
“H-Holy shit–”
Steve’s eyes widen, a chuckle of amusement and excitement leaving his lips, he stares at you in awe. Surprised at the tent in his pants, he is rock hard again.
He keeps pounding his fingers in and out of you, not stopping his movements just yet. With a smirk, he leans down to kiss your cheek, cooing at you, “you’re such a good girl for me.” He says possessively.
Your walls unclench around him, and he thinks it’s all, when you suddenly clench again, tighter than before, another shockwave rushes through your body, and you squirt even more, the leather beneath you becoming even wetter than before.
Steve’s hand is drenched, up to his elbow, and so is the front of his jeans, his stomach and the window behind him. The evidence of how good he made you feel is all over his seats, filling him with pride.
A satisfied smirk plays on his lips, he feels like he’s on top of the world, he feels like a fucking king again, knowing that he brought such pleasure to your body.
He never even thought that this was possible, that this move in porn movies is nothing but a myth, but he had to try, he had to try it with you. It would have shamed him before to admit he had been watching more porn than usual just to do the things he sees with you, but now? He feels like he is the most intelligent person in the world.
Your body falls limp, whines and whimpers still filling the space around you, tears roll down your cheek as you’re trying to catch your breath.
Steve pats your cheek, caressing it gently as he stares at you fondly, “hey, are you okay?” He whispers, unable to stop himself from pecking your lips.
You nod weakly, still needing a moment to come down from the high.
He keeps kissing you, playing with your hair as he caresses your skin, pulling his fingers out of you after a while, making you whine again.
You open your eyes, struggling to keep them open after the intense orgasm you just had. You look into his eyes, they’re filled with victory. A proud smile playing on his lips.
You raise your eyebrows when you notice the drops on the window, the wet seats, his soaked hands and the wetness beneath you.
Heat rushes up to your cheeks, embarrassment rushes through you and you can’t help but gasp as you look around the mess that you made. Tears blur your vision, “o-oh my god!” You say weakly, shakily as you start crying, catching him off guard, “I-I’m so sorry, Steve!”
You press your palms against the wet seats and push to sit up.
Steve shakes his head at you, he cups your cheeks and shushes you by kissing your lips again, “fuck, Blondie, don’t cry – holy shit, that was so fucking hot,” he chuckles, “it’s just leather, sweetheart. And honestly, this feels like a fucking victory to me.”
You blink through your tears, looking at him with big and glassy eyes, your heart still pounds in your chest, shame swirling deeply in your chest.
“Really?”
He nearly faints at the look in your eyes.
Who would’ve thought that Steve would ever get to see you like this or that he’d get to be the one to make you come undone so intensely?
You are so vulnerable, right now. It tugs at his heartstrings, knowing that you struggle with emotions, that you hate showing weakness and tears – yet here you are, even if it’s only out of shame, it shows him that you trust him, even if only a little.
You’re unaware of the fluttering in his chest that you cause, the warmth around his heart as he stares at you. He traces your cheek before he slips his hands down to your waist.
You look so fucking cute.
How can he not adore you when you look at him like this?
He gulps as he is completely aware of the way his heart feels.
You’re going to be a problem, that’s for sure – but he can’t find it in himself to care, not now.
He sits back and pulls you along with him, dragging you into his lap, he surprises you by wrapping his arms around your shaking, hot body. He pulls you into him so he can hug you, he cups the back of your head and makes you relax against his chest. He presses a kiss to your forehead, feeling the need to treat you gently, sweetly.
Your breath hitches in your throat, his actions doing nothing to calm your racing heart.
It takes you a moment, but eventually, you calm down and close your eyes as you bury your face in his bare chest, his hair tickling your cheek a little. Steve runs his finger up and down your spine, making your heart race.
Your body is aching, your legs are trembling, you nearly squeal when his crotch brushes against your center as you try to move closer to him.
“Wait,” he whispers, he grabs your waist again and changes your position, moving both of your legs over his thighs instead, so you don’t have to straddle him, and then, he pulls you back into his chest again. He brushes his fingers against your upper arm, stroking your skin softly, “is that better?”
You nod.
“Good,” he whispers, letting all his emotions guide him as he presses a kiss to your temple.
“Y-You made me squirt,” you whisper, blushing.
He chuckles, looking down at you and the way your cheek is pressed against his chest, “yeah Blondie, I made you squirt. I never did that in my life, you never did that in your life, we should put a memory plaque here.”
Finally, a giggle falls from your lips, and you look up at him, amusement shining in your eyes.
“I need a shower and sleep for like… three days straight.”
Steve chuckles, squeezing you tighter, he finds himself liking the feeling of holding you this way, he can’t help but want to pull you closer.
“I’m happy to provide all that for you,” he smiles down at you.
Steve likes to see you in his clothes, he likes it when you take showers at his place and make his bathroom smell like your shampoo and your sweet body wash.
He missed it last night.
He clears his throat, his smile falling a bit, “why didn’t you uh… call me the past two days?”
You hesitate, not wanting to show your face to him, you keep your head down.
“Oh uh… I felt sick, nauseous, probably because of something I ate, maybe it was Eddie’s attempt at the homemade burrito…”
Steve’s mind was plagued with ugly thoughts after seeing you with Jacob, but this is beginning to ease his mind a little.
“Wait so,” he blinks, sitting up straighter as he continues to look down at you, “you were home?”
You nod, meeting his eyes, “where else would I be?”
It’s not exactly a lie, but it isn’t the whole truth either. You had an appointment in the morning, one that you had been nervously awaiting for weeks.
The tension that remained leaves his body completely now, relief rushes through him, making him relax fully.
“I thought… since Jacob was back–”
Your lips part in surprise as your eyes widen, before a smile appears on your lips.
“Aw, is Stevie jealous and worried that someone is going to take his place?” You ask him, taunting him a little.
Yeah, he actually is.
But he can’t tell you that, can he?
He pinches your ass with his fingers, a smirk tugging at his lips, “don’t get all bratty now, or I will show you how no one can replace me… again.”
You’re a little taken aback by all the comments, by his actions today, by the softness of his touch, right now. He didn’t fight you on it. He just told you to not be bratty instead of telling you to stop thinking that way.
Today, he treated you as though you were his.
He acted out of jealousy and was possessive over you, and in the end, he pulled you into his arms, treating you with such gentleness that it will surely leave a stain in your heart forever.
This is dangerous, he is dangerous.
He is giving you a glimpse of something that you will never have.
He is showing you colors, you can’t ever see with anyone else.
And maybe, this should be enough to make you run into safety, to protect your heart from the pain it will suffer when it’s all over.
But in what world, would you ever run from him?
You know how this will end, but it won’t stop you from kissing his lips and letting him into you.
He can break your heart and shatter your soul for all you care.
It’s all his anyway.
-
Eddie looked all over for you, the backyard, the kitchen, even the bathroom and the bedrooms, he was sick with worry as he searched for you. He got distracted when Robin forced him into a game of beer pong, with Argyle and Vickie, and lost sight of you.
The girl ended up calming him down, when she told him that Steve took you home, you looked sick apparently. But Eddie knows better than that.
He knows deep in his gut that his suspicions were right, that he wasn’t thinking into it too deeply.
On his way out of Vickie’s house, he bumps into someone, turning around to apologize, he finds a very drunk Jacob, he raises his hands up, slurring out an apology, but then a confused frown appears on his face when he seems to recognize him.
“Munson, you’re friends with her, right?”
“Huh, with who?” Eddie mumbles, tilting his head.
Jacob says your name and Eddie blinks a few times and slowly nods, “best friends actually, what of it?”
The tall jock smells like beer and weed mixed together as he steps closer, invading his space a little.
“Well, I mean, is she dating Harrington or something?” Jacob asks, shaking his head.
Eddie raises his eyebrows, curiosity sparking inside of him.
“Um…” He could say no, he definitely could, but Jacob seems like a source of information right now, and he decides to use this opportunity to find out more, “what makes you think that?”
“Well, the fact that this guy cockblocked me two times tonight is the main one. Tried flirting with her and he just pulled her away and even dared to glare at me as if I were the one interrupting his conversation, man." Jacob is slurring, rambling, and he just looks like a guy that lost the opportunity, not someone who would push you into a date or something.
But Eddie is stunned by the revelation, so he pressed forward.
“Two times?”
“Yeah, the first one he took her somewhere as soon as I started talking to her, and the next he interrupted us so he could leave with her... Say sorry to Harrington for me, she didn't tell me she was dating him,” he mumbles, waving his hand as he rolls his eyes and steps.
Eddie’s gears work, trying to figure out a way to confirm all of this, but for now, the information is enough, his suspicions only growing with certainty. A small honest smile appears on his face and he pats Jacob on the shoulder.
“Thank you Leeney. I'll make sure to let Stevie know.”
The blond nods and steps away, giving him a weak smile before he walks off, leaving Eddie by himself.
His dark brown eyes flash with understanding and realization, a laugh of disbelief falling from his lips as he puts all the puzzle pieces together.
He brings his hand up to his chin and shakes his head when he thinks of the marks on both yours and Steve’s skin.
A scoff falls from Eddie’s lips.
“Chandler and Heidi, right.”
♡
tagging friends and mutuals
@prettyboyeddiemunson @mysticmunson @taintedcigs @joekeerysmoles @ibellcipem @maroon-cardigan @sherrylyn628 @corrodedcorpses @munsonlore @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars
#my writing ♡#dwoht#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington angst#steve harrington smut#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington drabble#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#stranger things angst
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Eddie’s Girl - Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: Eddie wasn’t aware that you used to date Steve Harrington. When he finds out after a Corroded Coffin show, he lets his insecurities get the better of him.
Warnings: mentions of sex, mentions of previous reader x Steve, stancy and Robin x Vickie are couples, language, angst, comfort, I think that’s it?
Words: 4.5k
The relationship you have with Eddie has always been an open and honest one. Both of you were upfront with one another about both having past relationships and that neither of you was a virgin. There was no judgment, embarrassment, just open and total honesty. Details weren’t always shared, but that’s okay. You share bits and pieces of your lives with each other on a daily basis, learning more about one another all the time. It’s something you both love about your relationship. But there was one detail that Eddie wished you would’ve shared with him.
It started one night at The Hideout, you at your usual table while Eddie and the rest of Corroded Coffin did their soundcheck. Eddie insisted you didn’t have to ride with him so you’d be stuck there from sound check until the bar closes, but you liked tagging along for their gigs, “boring” bits included. Tonight, Robin and Nancy were coming to the show as well, more to keep you company and have a girl’s night than the fact that they liked the band’s music, but it put asses in the seats which was good for business. Originally, Vickie, Robin’s girlfriend, was going to tag along as well, but she said Robin deserved a night just with her friends.
You didn’t expect your friends to show up until showtime, so you sat at the high-top table, swinging your legs back and forth while you read from a tattered paperback book that you had shoved into your purse. The familiar sounds of Corroded Coffin’s setlist played in the background as they tuned their instruments, your mind able to tune out the buzz as you read. You knew the songs almost as well as the band did and began to hum along with them under your breath.
A new song began, and your head instantly perked up. This one was your favorite and Eddie caught your eye from the stage, sending you a wink. You grinned back, your cheeks turning slightly pink, as they did every time you heard this song. This was your song. Eddie had written it both for you and about you. He never thought to share it with the band, especially after he played it for you for the first time and there were tears in your eyes. He thought maybe it was too soon for him to write such a tender and loving song about you, making you uncomfortable. But the way you launched yourself at him, practically knocking his guitar out of his lap – which he would only allow you to do without going completely ballistic – to hug him and bury your head in his neck, murmuring over and over again how much it meant to you, he saw the tears for the emotions they truly represented. You’d told him time and time again that the song was your favorite – obviously – and he asked if you would like to hear him play it at their shows.
“I would love that. It’d be like a private moment between you and me in the middle of the crowded room,” you’d said. He grinned, not only at your response, but at the fact that you were optimistic enough to think the room would be full at their shows.
The band learned the song and it has been played in their set ever since. Eddie always looked at you while they played it, even if it was only during soundcheck. Gareth liked to comment that the two of you literally had heart eyes for each other during the song. It was more romantic than Jeff’s comment anyway, that you two were always “eye fucking” during the song. Either way, you didn’t care. It was just like you originally said to Eddie, it was like it was only the two of you in the room for those few minutes.
Your song concluded their soundcheck, so Eddie set his sweetheart down carefully on the guitar rack. He hopped off the stage and made his way to you, his curls bouncing from side to side as he sidled up to you.
“How’d we sound?” he asked.
“Amazing, as always,” you replied.
He slung an arm over your shoulders and placed a kiss to your temple.
“When are the girls getting here?” he asked.
You shrugged. “I told them what time you guys go on, so probably around then.”
“You have time to come backstage then?” he murmured against your hair.
“Do I look like a groupie?” you asked, pulling back from him and raising your eyebrows.
“Only groupie I ever want.” He grinned and it was infectious. Your tummy flipped as you smiled at him in response. You shoved the novel back in your purse and hopped off the chair as he linked his hands with yours.
Backstage at The Hideout was cramped as it was. There was barely room for the musical equipment needed to put on a show let alone any persons other than those in the band. Eddie took advantage of the tight space to hold your body as close to his as he could. It was hot back there, sweat already causing Eddie’s bangs to stick to his forehead. You reached up to wipe them out of his eyes, earning you a kiss on your fingers in return.
There was one ripped gray couch shoved in a corner, stuffing and springs poking through areas where the material had run thin. Gareth flopped down on it, leaving a bit more room for the rest of the band and their biggest fan.
“Your friends are coming tonight, right?” Gareth asked you.
“Sure are.”
“Nancy coming?” Jeff asked. His hopeful grin made both you and Eddie roll your eyes.
“Yes, she’s coming,” you told him. “And yes, she still has a boyfriend.”
“What about Robin?” Gareth asked. “She single? She’s coming too, right?”
You chuckled to yourself and rested your head on Eddie’s shoulder. “No, she doesn’t have a boyfriend. But go ahead, ask her on a date, see how well that works out for you.”
Robin had recently trusted Eddie enough to let him in on her secret as well, but the rest of Corroded Coffin couldn’t be trusted with the secret of you and Eddie getting caught making out in the bathroom at school, let alone something serious.
The sound of someone tripping over a chair close to the stage echoed into the backstage area. Speak of the devil. You smiled to yourself and knew you’d hear her voice any minute.
“Hey, groupie!” Robin called. She knew where you would be. “Usually, you fool around with band members after the show.”
You laughed and went to pull away from Eddie, but he tugged you back against his chest.
“One minute!” He called out to the main bar area. “She’s putting her panties back on!”
“Eddie!” You scolded him with a slap on the chest as the rest of the band laughed.
“Oh, calm down, no one is here yet,” he said. He pressed a few kisses below your ear before whispering, “Plus, we both know you wouldn’t be putting them back on; they’d be going in my back pocket.”
Your face blooms red and you pulled back to give him a playful glare. He knew you didn’t have a comeback because what he said was true.
“The bartenders and waitresses are here,” you said, responding to his earlier point.
“And they all know how I joke by now,” he said with a smirk. He wrapped his arms around your hips and pulled your body flush against his. “I’ll see you after the show?”
“If I’m still here,” you joked with a noncommittal shrug. He gave no response, just a wink and a kiss on your forehead before you walked out from backstage.
“You guys are disgusting,” Robin said when she saw you.
“Disgustingly cute,” Nancy corrected.
Robin tilted her head from side to side, considering Nancy’s statement. “Both,” she decided with a nod of finality.
“We weren’t doing anything,” you said. You knocked your hip against Robin’s as you passed her to head back to your normal table. Your friends followed and took a chair on either side of you.
“There’s barely room to breathe back there, let alone anything else,” you explained.
“Otherwise, you would?” Robin asked with a smirk.
“So, how are you?” you asked Nancy, purposefully turning away from Robin.
“Exhausted,” Nancy admitted to you. “Writing a valedictorian speech has become much harder than I thought it would be. It’s so nice to have a girl’s night.”
“Especially with Steve distracting you all the time,” Robin added, forcing her way back into the conversation.
“He doesn’t do that,” Nancy said. You might’ve believed her if she looked either of you in the eye or her cheeks didn’t go pink.
“You do realize he tells me everything, right?” Robin asked.
“I did not need to know that,” Nancy said.
“Everything?” you asked Robin. She took it as a personal victory when you turned back to face her, elbows rested on the table.
“Oh, yes,” Robin said. “As much as I tell him he doesn’t need to share every little detail, he just loves to do so. Why do you think I refuse to sit on the loveseat when we’re all hanging out at his house?”
Nancy’s brows pinched together in confusion. “We’ve never done it…” She trailed off as she saw you sinking down in your seat, the tips of your ears turning red. Nancy couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up out of her. Patrons were starting to stream in the bar, walking past your table to get drinks or meet up with friends. “You didn’t!”
“What?” you asked, not able to meet your friends’ eyes. “It’s a perfectly comfortable spot to…do stuff.”
Nancy looked around before lowering her voice. “Why not the couch? The loveseat is just so…small.”
“Not if you’re stacked on top of each other,” Robin said.
“Robin!” you all but shouted.
“I told you,” she said with a defensive shrug, holding her hands up in front of her. “Everything.”
You groaned and held your head in your hands. Nancy laughed beside you and you breathed a silent sigh of relief that she wasn’t upset. She had never given you any reason to think she would be. She had been the very first one to know when Steve had asked you out on a date. You had desperately wanted to say yes, but you knew you couldn’t until you had talked to Nancy. You couldn’t date her ex-boyfriend without her permission. It felt wrong. Even when Nancy had given it, she had to convince you that she was totally fine with it. She was with Jonathan then, so she genuinely just wanted you to do what made you happy.
And so, you did. Your and Steve’s relationship burned hot and fast. It only lasted a few months before the pair of you agreed that while you both found each other attractive and had a lot of fun together, there was no real romantic spark. You had been good friends before and you were both confident you could get back to that. You did easily, it causing you no hard feelings whatsoever when Steve and Nancy got back together. You thought it was right, honestly. They just worked together.
The lights above the stage came to life, bringing your attention forward. The crowd barely quieted as Corroded Coffin made their way onstage, most there to drink, not necessarily to hear a band. Your table was one of the few that cheered as the band members picked up their instruments. Eddie’s eyes found yours instantly, partly why you sat at the same table every time, and he mouthed the words, “I love you” as he did before every show started.
Nancy “awed” at your side as you mouthed it back to him. Because of the lights, you weren’t sure if he could see you or not, but it didn’t really matter. He knew.
As the band was halfway through their set, a waitress came over and placed a drink down in front of you and each of your friends.
“We didn’t order anything,” Robin told her.
The waitress shrugged and motioned with her head over her shoulder back towards the bar. “Joe at the bar sent them over. He recognized you.” She nodded at you and wiped her hands on her apron. “Eddie’s girl.”
You smiled to yourself as she walked away. You’d been Eddie’s girl for a while, but hearing it still made you giddy.
“To Eddie’s girl!” Robin said as she raised her glass in the air. She didn’t wait for you or Nancy to clink glasses with her before she took a huge swig. “Oh, yuck. Things usually taste better when they’re free, but this does not.”
Both you and Nancy took a sniff of your glasses, trying to determine what you had been given. The dark liquid was carbonated and had the distinct sweet and potent stench of alcohol.
“Jack and coke,” Robin confirmed for you between coughs.
“To Eddie’s girl,” Nancy echoed before knocking back a large sip. She shuddered and laughed at herself.
“To me?” you toasted shyly before being the last one to take a sip. You felt as if your eyes rolled back in your head as the steady burn inched its way from your tongue, down your throat, and settled bubbly in your stomach.
As you recovered from another sip – as you three subtly wanted to finish your drinks quickly before another employee questioned if you were over 21 or not – the first notes of your song came over the speakers. You perked up in your seat and tapped each of your friends on their arms.
“This is my song,” you told them proudly. “Eddie wrote this for me!”
“That is so sweet!” Nancy said. Robin leaned her elbows on the table, leaning forward in her seat as if to really concentrate on this song.
As usual, only Eddie existed in the room as the song played. The bar behind you could burst into flames, bottles of alcohol bursting like fireworks, and you wouldn’t bat an eye. The whiskey in your system made you more emotional than usual, as you could feel tears sitting at the back of your throat. You sniffed and wiped your eyes as the song ended.
“Damn alcohol,” you muttered to your friends.
Nancy patted your back as Robin rose from her seat and gave the song a standing ovation. You laughed at how you weren’t the only one being affected by the drink.
“Thank you!” Gareth shouted from the stage, pointing to Robin in the crowd. Robin cupped her hands around her mouth and let out a loud “Woo!” before sitting back down.
After the show, you took your time getting up out of your seats. You told your friends that the band would rest for a few minutes before loading up the gear behind the bar. The three of you laughed together as you made your way outside and around the small building. The night air was cool for this late in the spring. There were no clouds in the sky and the stars above shone down brightly in the midnight black as you tugged your friends in the direction of Eddie’s van.
The back door of The Hideout burst open to the sound of deep laughter, the guys pushing into one another as they stepped outside.
“No, you totally messed up the chords!” Gareth shouted at Jeff good naturedly before realizing they were in the presence of you girls. “Oh. Hello, ladies.”
Eddie pushed past him, pulling you into a hug. “Hi,” he said quietly. He leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss against your lips.
“Hi,” you replied.
“Nancy, Robin,” Eddie said, smiling at each of them in turn.
“You were so good!” Robin cried out.
Eddie chuckled and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Joe send you guys some drinks?”
You giggled as you nodded up at him. “How could you tell?”
Eddie raised his eyebrows and you turned to see Robin swaying slightly on her feet. Nancy led her to the side of Eddie’s van to give her some support.
“You gonna stand there all night?” Jeff called to Eddie. You looked back to see the rest of the band loading up instruments and amps into the back of Eddie’s van and Gareth’s truck.
“Maybe,” Eddie said. He dropped his arms from around you and walked over to pick up his guitar case. You went over to stand near Nancy and Robin as the guys finished up.
“Did you guys drive here?” you asked.
“I drove us. Don’t worry, I’m fine to drive home,” Nancy said. You nodded at her. She had finished her drink the earliest in the evening and she had a higher tolerance than both you and Robin anyway. She was stone cold sober at this point. Robin, not as much.
“My mom is gonna be mad,” Robin said with a laugh. “If she’s still awake when I get home.”
“Maybe I should make sure you get to your room okay. And quietly,” Nancy said.
“That’s probably a good idea,” you agreed.
“Jesus, she only had one drink?” Eddie asked as he came up behind you.
“Lightweight,” Robin told him with an overdramatic shrug of her shoulders.
“We’re headed out!” Jeff called from over near Gareth’s truck. You and Eddie both turned around to wave to the guys. Robin watched the black truck go past with what could only be drunken concentration.
“You guys good?” Eddie asked. He looked back and forth between Nancy and Robin. He’d drive them home no problem if needed.
“Totally fine,” Nancy assured him. “You guys were great tonight.”
“Thanks.” Eddie smiled, compliments of his band being a weakness of his.
“So good!” Robin echoed. Though her compliments held less weight because of her current state, Eddie appreciated it nonetheless.
“We should get going,” Nancy said. She wrapped her arm around Robin’s, ready to pull her the way to the car. “Curfew on a school night and all.”
“Yeah, thanks for coming out,” Eddie said.
“It was so much fun!” you said.
Nancy stepped away from Robin for a moment to pull you into a hug. You hugged her back tightly, realizing how much the girl’s night meant to you. You gave Robin a hug as well, but not as tight for fear that she might get sick on you.
Eddie stepped up and rested his arm over your shoulders as you waved to your friends.
“Bye guys,” you said.
Robin smirked at Eddie’s arm over your shoulders. “Yeah, let’s get out of here. The van’s gonna start rocking.”
“Robin!” Nancy scolded as Eddie barked out a laugh. You groaned and dropped your head back against Eddie’s shoulder.
“Go home, Robin,” you tell her.
“Yeah, yeah, go have your fun with Steve. I mean Eddie.” Robin started to laugh to herself, finding the mix-up amusing. “Sorry, got used to saying that and old habits die hard.”
Eddie’s muscles tightened. You felt it behind you and Nancy must’ve clocked it as well.
“Okay, let’s go, Robin. Bye guys,” Nancy said as she rushed Robin around the corner of the building.
You turned around to face Eddie, his forehead scrunched up in thought.
“Used to saying that?” he asked.
“Yeah,” you said. You licked over your lips and tugged on the hem of your shirt. “From when he and I went out.”
Eddie’s eyes got the widest you had ever seen them. “When you what?”
Now it was your turn to be confused. “I never told you that?”
“No, you certainly fucking didn’t,” he yelled. You stepped back, your own eyes growing wide at his volume.
“What’s the big deal? I don’t know the names of your exes,” you said.
Eddie rubbed his hands over his face and let out a humorless laugh. He paced over to the van door and opened it. Instead of getting in, he turned to face you.
“Yeah, their names. Because you don’t know them. I know Steve. You’re friends with Steve.”
“I don’t understand why you’re getting so mad.” You frowned and took a few steps toward him. He huffed and rolled his eyes before climbing in the van. He slammed the door and the engine revved. You knew he wouldn’t leave you there, but you still made quick work of walking around the other side of the van and climbing in the passenger’s seat.
The tires squealed against the gravel as Eddie jerked the car back and pulled onto the main road on the side of the bar. His knuckles were white against the steering wheel and his lips were pulled into a thin line. Streetlights flashed by in the night as Eddie sped down the road. You didn’t know what to say. You sat quietly with your hands in your lap, anxiously picking at a loose thread on your jeans.
Your shoulders sagged in partial relief as he took the road that led to his trailer instead of the one that led to your house. You were supposed to stay the night with him and at least he still wanted you to. The silence stretched on, and it made the minutes’ drive to Eddie’s home feel like an hour’s long journey. The brakes screeched as Eddie put the van in park. He yanked his key out of the ignition and hopped out. He didn’t even grab his guitar case out of the back before storming up the trailer steps.
Timidly, you walked up the steps behind him and ducked under his arm as he held the door open for you. Still a gentleman. A few steps into the living room you stopped, biting on your lip as you watched to see what Eddie would do.
He tossed his keys on the counter with a loud clang. He turned until his back was facing you and he placed his hands on his hips. You opened your mouth to speak when a huff left his lips. Silence passed for a few minutes before you attempted to speak again.
“Are we going to talk about this?” you asked. Your voice came out quieter than you intended.
Eddie turned to face you and held his arms out at his sides. “Let’s talk.”
“Why are you so angry?”
He let out a dry chuckle and hung his head down for a moment before looking at you again. “You dated Steve.” Not a question. An accusatory statement that you didn’t know how to respond to. “For how long?”
“A few months,” you said. “A couple of years ago.” You hated feeling like you did something wrong. Maybe you didn’t tell Eddie that you had dated one of your best male friends, but so what? It’s not like you’ve given Eddie any reason to think you still had feelings for Steve.
“And you slept together,” he said. Again, not a question.
“Yes,” you say slowly. “You knew I wasn’t a virgin.”
“Yeah, but not with who,” he barked back. “Wait, did he take it?”
“Excuse me?” Now it was your temper that began to flare. “Did he take what? My virginity? Why? What does that matter?” You crossed your arms over your chest defensively.
“Because it’s Steve!” Eddie yelled.
You took a deep breath to tried and control your anger before you responded. It didn’t work as well as you’d hoped.
“Yeah, Steve! Am I supposed to be sorry that I dated and slept with someone you know? Are you mad that I’m still friends with him? What the fuck, Eddie? Okay, I get being kind of irked that you didn’t know but don’t you think you’re overreacting a bit?”
“You don’t fucking get it,” Eddie mumbled. He shook his head and turned down the hallway. He stalked his way to his room, but you stayed right on his heels.
“You’re right, I don’t!”
You watched as Eddie yanked his jacket off, tossing it in the direction of his closet. He paced back and forth, your eyes following every step. The echo of Eddie’s footfalls were the only sounds coming from the trailer.
“What don’t I get?” You asked this in a calmer voice. The blood in your veins was still steaming, but you were doing your best to keep your temper under control.
“That it’s Steve,” Eddie said in a low voice.
You sucked your teeth and crossed your arms over your chest. “I do, in fact, get that it was Steve.”
“No.” Eddie stopped pacing and stood right in front of you. His eyes were boring into yours and you couldn’t tell if there was more anger or sadness there. “You were with Steve. King Steve. The star athlete. The golden boy. The ladies man.”
After taking a deep breath, you tried to keep your voice steady as you replied. “Yes. All things he has been called. And?”
“And now you’re with me,” he said. His jaw twitched and his eyes darted away from yours. “The freak.”
You frowned and took a step towards him. Your chests were practically touching as you reached out and took one of his hands in yours. “Eddie, what are you saying?” Your heart couldn’t believe what you were hearing.
He sighed and rubbed his free hand over his face. His eyes met yours again and he took a deep breath before responding. “I’m not like him. I’m not anything like him.”
“Well,” you said. You stepped forward and cupped his jaw in your hand. “That’s good. Because I don’t want him. I want you. I didn’t have a good relationship with him. I do with you. I don’t want you to be like Steve. I want you to be Eddie. Because I love Eddie more than anything in this world.”
His eyes dipped from yours and you felt your heart cracking.
“I love you, too,” he whispered.
“Hey,” you said. “Look at me.” His eyes raised to lock with yours. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I was with Steve before. I didn’t realize it was as big of a deal as it is. But I need you to know that Steve is my friend now and that’s all he will ever be. Okay?” You took his face in both of your hands and looked deep in his eyes. “And I need you to understand just how amazing you are. You are the kindest and most beautiful man I have ever met. You are the person I want to spend all of my time with. I mean, you wrote me a song. Nobody else in the world has done that. You’re the golden standard, baby. Everyone else falls flat. Okay? You hear me?”
Eddie took a deep breath and nodded his head. “Okay.” He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close. “I’m sorry I blew up at you. You didn’t deserve that.”
You leaned up and pressed your lips against his. “Are we okay?”
He nodded and pressed his forehead against yours. “Yeah. We’re good. I love you so much.”
“I love you, too,” you said.
You pulled away from him to crawl on his bed. You pressed your back up against the headboard and opened your arms to him. He took a few steps towards you before stopping in his tracks. His head whipped towards the front door.
“What?” you asked. “What is it?”
“I left my sweetheart in the van,” he said. You let out a deflated laugh and sink back against his pillows.
“Okay, go and get her,” you said.
A smile curled on Eddie’s lips, and he turned back to face you.
“She can wait. I’ve got my girl right here.” He crawled up next to you and gathered you into his arms.
“Your girl,” you reiterated to him. “Eddie’s girl, as they called me at the bar today.”
Eddie hummed happily as he pulled you into his lap.
“Good. Everyone knows.”
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfic
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Season Two Halloween AU Part Nine
Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six Part Seven Part Eight
Synopsis: What if Eddie had been at Tina's Halloween Party in Season Two? Featuring Steve!Whump, Stancy Breakup, and Eddie just trying to keep up with all these new revelations about who King-Steve actually is...
As always, thank you thank you to the lovely Jess @strangersteddierthings for cheering me on, letting me send spoilers, and Steddie screaming with me!
***
Eddie moves, trying to find a comfortable position in the firm plastic hospital chair, letting his legs stretch out into the bulk of the hallway and sliding down the chair.
He won't be able to stay like this for much longer either, but it's worth it for the irritated looks he can feel from the nurses station.
Eddie hadn't been allowed in the room with Steve while he was being assessed, forcing him to wait outside in the hallway.
He can hear them talking, not bothering to be quiet at four in the morning.
"There's no answer, who isn't home at this time of night?"
"Did you try the secondary number?"
"Yes, it's for a business though and all I get is the answering machine for a Richard Harrington".
Eddie frowns, silently agreeing with the first nurse, why the hell aren't they here?
That's when he remembers something Steve had mentioned, so casually, Eddie realizes, feeling a little sick, that his parents wouldn't be home until Thanksgiving this year.
Which is just shy of a month away still, give or take a week.
Just how long have they been gone, he wonders, feeling an anxious pit begin to form in his stomach, and what would that mean for him now?
He's saved from this train of thought for the moment by Hopper appearing at the end of the hall, his heavy step and squeaky boots announcing themselves well before he steps into view.
He looks exhausted, and a little worse for wear, and Eddie has never been happier to see a cop.
He walks past Eddie, though he does spare him a single nod, and makes his way to the nurses station.
"Morning," Hopper says gruffly, his voice crackles as though it's either been used too much or too little recently.
"'M'here about the Harrington kid, we have a few questions for him and his injuries and then I'll be taking him home after his statement".
"Sir, that's not--" one of the Nurses tries, only for Hopper to flash his badge and knock his knuckles once on the top of the desk.
"Which room?" He at least has the decency to ask this time, throwing a thumb over his shoulder.
Eddie hears a long sigh as the other Nurse mutters, '206'; Hopper doesn't even wait for her to finish the word before he's turning on his heel, his boots making a horrible squeak against the linoleum tiles as moves.
He slows to a stop in front of Eddie, finally looking at him, it's always been nerve wracking having the chiefs full attention on him, though there's a rather big difference between now and the last time, down at the station.
"They check you out?" He grumbles to Eddie, his fingers tap a nervous rhythm on his leg.
Eddie shakes his head, "Steve took the brunt of everything tonight".
Hopper nods, his gruff face pinched with something close to worry, but it's gone in an instant.
He looks down the hall at something over Eddie's shoulder and lifts his hand in a muted wave before turning back to Eddie.
"You should head home Munson, I took the liberty of getting you a ride".
Eddie frowns at the words and startles slightly as another person sits down beside him, he hadn't even noticed until Wayne was all of a sudden right there.
Eddie blinks, exhaustion and emotion all encompassing; he feels as though he might sink into the floor or tip forward and fall away from the world right then and there, but Wayne reaches out, clasping his shoulder with his firm warm hand. Like he always does.
"Wayne," Eddie says in a tremulous voice, the weight of the night finally crashes over him, the dogs, Billy, the tunnels, it's too much. The image of Steve crumpling to the floor, shards of ceramic in his hair, plays over and over again.
Eddie's face is wet as Wayne pulls him into his arms, he ignores the way the hospital chair digs into his ribs as he moves.
"S'okay Ed," Wayne whispers, letting his hand rub soothing circles on his back, up and down.
Wayne says something above Eddie's head, most likely to Hopper, but he doesn't care, not now. He focuses on the grounding feeling of being held, the warm comfort of knowing that when he needed it, his uncle was there.
He tries not to think about the fact that it's Hopper in Steve's room rather than his parents.
***
They don’t talk after.
It shouldn’t have been surprising really. After the whirlwind in the tunnels, learning that Dustin really had managed to bond with one of the creatures over a mediocre chocolate bar, and finally, finally, getting Steve to the hospital, it was like everything else was put on the back burner.
The government gives them all NDAs to sign, including Wayne now --how was he not going to tell his uncle after the hospital? The government officials had given Eddie a bit of trouble about it during the debrief about their cover story, until Wayne and Hopper had argued his defense.
The worst part though, about everything, is the pretending.
Pretending that everything is normal, like there aren't monsters from an alternate dimension running around Hawkins, like the government didn't know about the real reason so many people, like Mr.Newby, had died. Pretending that small petty things like his late homework assignments, or who was dating who in the wilds of Hawkins High really mattered.
With that being said, the news that Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers were officially dating now, surged through the school.
Pretending that that news doesn't make Eddie feel relieved was also difficult.
Well, maybe relieved isn't the right word, but after Eddie's half-assed confession before the tunnels, and the stay in the hospital, Steve has been avoiding him.
And if it wasn’t because of Nancy….
Well, Eddie tries not to dwell too much on it.
Two weeks after their trip into the Dismal Caverns, Eddie spots, speak of the devil, Nancy Wheeler leaning on his locker.
The last bell has long past so it's only the stragglers now wandering halls, those waiting for Band Practice to start, those just getting out of detention.
Three guesses which one he's here for.
Eddie hasn't seen or spoken to Nancy since their government meeting, not that either had been particularly chatty that night, but she had at least sent a grateful smile Eddie's way as one of the officials went through the whole story of that night.
So to see her now sets his teeth on edge and his stomach plummeting into his shoes.
Is it back, did something happen to Will, did another Demodog surface?
Is Steve okay?
As if Nancy can see the terrified questions swirling around his head, she raises the hand not holding her books to her chest and says lowly, "everyone's fine".
Eddie lets out the breath he's holding, trying to lower his heart rate, "haven't seen you around these parts Wheeler, don't tell me you need a pick me up?"
He tries for a swarthy smile but it falls flat as the adrenalin from his earlier panic is still running rampant, he runs a sweaty hand through his hair, trying to hide the slight shake.
Nancy rolls her eyes and pushes herself off the locker by her shoulder, tipping her head towards the far back door to the building.
She says nothing as she leads him out of the school and towards his usual picnic table in the trees.
Eddie tugs his leather jacket around his torso as a harsh November breeze kicks up dead leaves and dust around the school building in small whirls. He wishes in this moment he had found a zip up closure rather than one with button snaps.
Eddie laughs nervously as they enter the treeline, "uh huh, you sure you didn't want something?"
Nancy turns to sit on top of the table, her face impassive, "Mrs. Click was still there, in her room, I don't need to have any meetings with her and my parents because they think I'm being corrupted," she lifts her hands and makes exaggerated quotations with her fingers before rolling her eyes again.
"We can talk here," she says primly, setting her books down on the table beside her.
Eddie grins, "you're probably setting yourself up for a meeting with the counselor tomorrow anyway, walking out of the school with me".
He kicks at a bottle cap in the grass and watches as it tumbles a few feet away. When he looks back up, Nancy is staring at him with a pinched brow.
"I'll bite, what's going on?"
Nancy nods and it's like a switch flips, her spine straightens slightly and her shoulders square before a determined expression smoothes out her face, it's eerie how similar it is to Steve's.
"What is he to you?" Nancy asks,
"Who?" Eddie stumbles over the word, already knowing exactly who Nancy is asking about.
She looks around now, prompting Eddie to do the same, just in case.
"I know it isn't," she hesitates for a beat as though searching for the word, "safe to talk about it, but," she blinks once, twice, "that's part of why I'm here, asking".
"I won't see Steve get hurt, not again".
"So," Nancy stands now, gracefully rising to her feet and stepping off the table, she takes a step closer towards Eddie, "what is he to you?"
He has a good five or six inches on her at least but the fire in her blue eyes makes him feel so much smaller in this moment.
Eddie feels a snarl build in his chest, the words tumbling out before he can get a chance to really think about them.
"That's fucking rich coming from you, as though you didn't rip his heart out at that stupid Halloween party".
Nancy's face pales slightly, but there's blood in the water now.
He never really had the heart to ask Steve this question, and he probably never would have been able to actually answer it.
But Nancy can.
"Steve is brave, fucking reckless but he's brave, and selfless, and he cares so much --about everything,"
Eddie forces himself to stay where he is, to not move, but his voice climbs in volume, carrying through the trees.
"You had that and you threw it away Wheeler, and you come in here asking what he is to me?"
He watches as Nancy looks around them frantically watching for people, but Eddie doesn't care, he keeps going.
"He's more than some bullshit you toss in the trash".
There are twin spots of red on the high points of her cheekbones, matching the flush painting her ears, Nancy pins him with a frosty glare as she breathes out slowly through her nose.
"Well, you certainly care, don't you, that's a question answered at least".
She clears her throat and blinks again, and to Eddie's horror, her eyes shine with tears in the afternoon sun.
"You don't know what it was like after everything last year, how hard it was".
She wipes roughly at one of the tears that rolls down her cheek, cutting it off.
"I wanted to talk about it, I wanted to tell Barb's parents what happened to their daughter, my--"
Nancy swallows roughly, her nostrils flaring, "my best friend, was dead".
"And Steve wanted to pretend that everything was fine, that it was normal," she clears her throat and wipes at her eyes again, "and I can't do that, I don't have it in me to let it go yet".
Eddie nods, he gets it.
He didn't understand how everyone was able to just go on like everything in the last week didn't happen, or if he will ever forget the sounds those things made as they screamed in the darkness, that people had died that night.
He can't pretend either and it's a relief to know he isn't the only one.
Eddie opens his mouth to apologize but Nancy keeps going, her words softer this time.
"I don't really believe that Steve has been able to let it go either if I'm being honest," Nancy says, her eyes searching Eddie's face as she speaks, "he sleeps with the hall lights on, did he tell you? He can't stand the dark anymore".
"Yeah," Eddie breathes out, "he's said it before, I didn't know about the hall, but.."
He lets the thought trail off, it makes sense. It's not as though he's been sleeping well since everything ended either. Wayne had woken him up that first night to stop his screaming and calm him down, he ended up crawling in with Wayne for the rest of the night, something he hadn't done since he was eight.
Eddie startles slightly at the sudden small hand touching his arm. Nancy pulls back almost immediately at his flinch, regret painting her face.
"Steve needs something that I can't give him," and I need more than he can give me, it wasn't meant to last".
"I didn't mean to hurt him, but that doesn't mean I'm good with Steve getting hurt again and again, he has enough of that with his parents".
Eddie nods again, "have they always been like that?"
Nancy's face darkens for just a moment before smoothing out again.
"In the year we were together, I met them once," she wraps her arms around herself and shivers as another breeze rips through the clearing, "he always made excuses for why they were gone or when they would be back".
She looks up at Eddie now, her wide blue eyes still red rimmed from earlier, "he told me about you, that night".
Oh.
Suddenly the weighted looks Nancy had been giving him make more sense. The small conspiratorial smile.
"Yeah well, he's been avoiding me," Eddie admits softly, lifting his hand to snag a lock of hair, "so I wouldn't hold your breath".
Nancy nods and shivers against a rough gust of wind that shifts the trees and swirls the leaves around the table. She looks into the distance suddenly, her eyes catching something behind Eddie as they widen before darting back to his face.
He turns his head to look behind him, only to see Hawkins Middle through the trees.
"Steve's good at pretending, but he doesn't have the same kind of friends around him that would just accept that version of him now, he's got us --well," Nancy stutters momentarily, "he's got you, and the kids, I'm pretty sure Dustin thinks Steve's an action here now".
Eddie snorts, prompting a smile out of Nancy. He takes a small step forward before offering his elbow. Nancy looks from his arm to Eddie's face once before reaching out to curl her hands around it.
"Alright Wheeler," he says with a grin, "how do we do this? I know you've got a plan rolling around that brain of yours and I'm cold as shit so let's move this to the van".
Nancy smiles again, tilting her head towards the Middle School once more, "How do you feel about Dances?"
Tag List: Please Note the List is Officially Closed
@eriquin @luvinthefreaks @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @goodolefashionedloverboi @ellietheasexylibrarian @bambibiest @sadboislovebeans @howincrediblysapphicofyou @coleys-a-nerd @whycantiuseunderscore @airconditioning123 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @corrodedbisexual @starman-jpg @ilovecupcakesandtea @yoriposts @clumsiluni @pelinelin @phantomcat94 @lololol-1234 @anaibis @steveshairspray @hellfireone @eddielives1986 @sunswathe @tentativeghost @robin-not-batman @estrellami-1 @manda-panda-monium @tinyplanet95 @perseus-notjackson @queenie-ofthe-void @rainbowsaw @sp0o0kylights @littlebluejane @hi-im-eff @phantypurple @just-ladyme @thoroughlycollected @justrandomfandomstm @swimmingbirdrunningrock @finntheehumaneater @dynamic-powerm@nightmareglitter @genderless-spoon @zaddipax @thebiblesays @pyrohonk @emly03 @geekymagicalpotato @sidebarre @lemon-astra @cipounette @discreetapple @starlitlakes @saphhicwitchbitch @marvel-ous-m @lingeringmirth @honorarybrit81 @bookbinderbitch @finntheehumaneater @lololol-1234 @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @monsterloverforhire @gaydrieeen @starlight-archer @homosexual-having-tea @devondespresso @rennnnon @my-hyperfixations-hell-blog @carlprocastinator1000 @0o-queendean-o0 @emly03 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @louismeds @fruitmix
@lizzicleromance @fairy-princette @eddiethehunted
And a few people I think may be intersted!
@steddierthings @steddie-there @stevesbipanic @henderdads @spooky-brakers
Part Ten Now Up (Final Part)
#season two halloween au#stranger things#stranger things season 2 au#steve harrington#eddie munson#the party#steve and nancy breakup#eddie is having all sorts of complicated feelings about steve here#i will never get tired of halloween party aus#you can pry them from my cold dead fingers#afewproblems writes#pining Eddie#uh oh more problems#poor eddie#poor steve#where is robin when you need her#nancy and eddie need to hang out more#I tried to give nancy some nuance here because I do love her character and I almost never write her#she was a fun challenge#nance scheming with eddie to get her ex a boyfriend#its messy but in the best way
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𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐄
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 4.8k words
summary: in which the vecna events hurt you a lot more than you would allow yourself to admit to anyone. you lost your best friend, someone who was quite possibly your only true friend, and you just felt empty inside because of it. you somehow find solace in steve harrington and an unspoken bond forms between you two. you and him barely talk, though; talking is probably the last thing you do with one another. but, maybe, you should.
warnings: post season four, mentions of eddie, mentions of stancy, reader grieving eddie’s death, soft!steve, some fluff, SO MUCH angst, explicit language, smut (minors dni!), overall a lot of sadness but with a happy/hopeful ending
author’s note: this idea randomly came to me and i immediately stopped everything else i was working on to run with this lmao hope y’all enjoy!<333
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
It was because you almost died.
That was what you kept telling yourself.
It was the life-and-death situations that you had found yourself in that past month that led you into Steve’s bed almost every night. And it was also the fact that he’d experienced those fucked up moments with you.
You and Steve weren’t friends. Even after what happened a little over a month ago, you rarely ever talked to each other during the normal hours that most people talked to one another. In fact, you found yourself actively avoiding him during the day.
But, when night rolled around and you were feeling way too restless and insanely sad, you would call him and he would always answer because somehow he was always awake too.
When you pulled into his driveway on this specific night, you didn’t hesitate to head to his front door and give it three quick knocks. He usually would leave the door unlocked for you after you told him you were on your way, but you still liked to knock.
For some reason, the thought of letting yourself into his house made things feel a little too personal and intimate; even though you and him were doing perhaps the most intimate thing two people could do with one another.
When Steve opened the door, he gave you a small smile. “Hi.”
“Hi,” You responded softly before walking inside.
You took notice of his attire which was typical, basketball shorts and a simple t-shirt, but his hair was much more disheveled than usual. It made you silently wonder if this time you actually had woken him up when you called.
You peeled off your jacket and toed off your shoes, leaving them both by the front door.
You followed him up to his room and quickly found comfort atop his bed as he closed and locked the door behind you both. Your legs dangled off the edge of the bed and you looked up at the ceiling.
“Were you actually asleep when I called this time?”
“Maybe a little bit.”
You propped yourself up by your elbows and looked at him. “You can tell me to fuck off sometimes, you know that right?”
He ran a hand through his hair, which let you know that he was at least a little bit nervous and there was also a lot going through his head right then. You wish you didn’t know that about him, but it was hard not to notice little things like that with all of the nights you’d been spending together.
“I could never tell you to fuck off,” He ultimately responded.
Why?
That was what you wanted to ask him, but you couldn’t let the word fall from your lips. Because you were scared about what emotional shit would be attached to his answer. You were scared that it just might finally break you open.
Ever since everything went down you felt numb from it all and, for the most part, you were okay with that. You liked not feeling anything because it meant that you couldn’t truly grasp the pain and grief you were experiencing.
By no means was it healthy, you knew that, but it still somehow made things a little better.
However, there was still a part of you that longed for something, anything, that resembled the opposite of the emptiness you were feeling.
And that was where Steve would come in.
He’d give you something that would momentarily fill that void while simultaneously making you forget all of the shit going through your head.
And you’d give him the same thing. Make him forget about the girl he was in love with who was perfectly happy with someone else.
The two of you needed each other. You would never say it aloud, but it was the truth, and you couldn’t let a question of “why?” potentially ruin that right then.
So, instead, you stood up and slipped off the sweatpants you were wearing and then pulled off the ratty old band t-shirt that had been Eddie’s. You hadn’t been wearing a bra under the shirt so you were standing in front of Steve in only your black underwear. His eyes slowly traveled up your body as he walked closer to you and a hand found your bare waist.
When this all started weeks ago, it slightly surprised you how you never felt nervous or awkward under Steve’s gaze. Somehow you always felt comfortable, maybe even a little safe.
You leaned into his soft touch and tilted your head up so that you could meet his lips. When your mouth met his, your mind effectively turned off and the next few moments felt like they were being lived by a different version of you. The version that was normal and not so painstakingly affected by grief and sadness.
Steve guided you back onto the bed, his lips not detaching from yours once, so that your back was flush against the comforter.
Soft words fell from his lips that you couldn’t decipher because you were so lost in your own pleasure.
You felt him almost everywhere. Lips against your neck and trailing down your body, hands squeezing your breast and teasing you through your soaking underwear.
“Please,” You found yourself muttering desperately as you bucked your hips upward a bit because you needed him so badly.
Steve knew what you were essentially asking for and he wanted the same exact thing. So when he pulled away for a second to remove his t-shirt and basketball shorts and boxers, you slipped off your own underwear and let him make you simultaneously feel and forget everything.
-
Three Weeks Earlier
“Hey.”
His presence startled you. So much so that you lost your balance a bit and almost fell into the lake.
“Jesus Christ, Harrington, you can’t sneak up on a girl like that.”
“Sorry about that,” He said and pushed a quick hand through his hair. “I don’t think there was any right way to get your attention.”
You tilted your head at him. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing. Also, how did you get here? I didn’t see your car parked.”
You turned away from him. “I walked.”
“That doesn’t sound like the best idea.”
A small shrug was all you gave him in response as you kicked a small rock into the lake.
You didn’t tell him that all of the walking you did made you so exhausted that the only thing you could think of when you finally stepped foot in your home was sleep and absolutely nothing else.
You’d come to learn over the past few weeks that it was way too easy for your mind to spiral when you were alone in your bed if you didn’t force yourself to stay awake and do things until you were completely sleep deprived.
“How’ve you been?” He asked as he walked over to stand next to you.
You almost laughed at how ridiculous the question was because, in your mind, the answer seemed obvious. You’d been sad, angry, upset at the world, sometimes even upset at Eddie— and you’d always end up feeling like a horrible person when you did become upset at him.
But you hadn’t seen Steve or anybody else involved since everything happened, so as ridiculous as the question was, it did make sense that he was asking it.
“Not the best,” You ultimately answered.
He waited a few moments to see if you would elaborate on what you meant, but you didn’t.
��You’re kinda one of us now, so you can talk to us whenever. You can talk to me.”
You took a quick glance over at him and saw from the look on his face how much he meant his words. “That’s the thing though, I don’t wanna talk.”
“So, you just wanna wallow forever?” His tone wasn’t accusatory like you expected it to be. Instead, he was genuinely curious.
“I just want to…” You let out a long sigh. “Forget. Forget what happened, forget what we went through, forget that he’s gone. Everything.”
Steve didn’t say anything in response to that for a few moments, and you fought the urge to look at him because you knew that he was either staring at you like you were crazy or pitying you. You couldn’t decide which look would be worse.
“Let me drive you home,” He said softly. You realized then that he probably felt sorry for you and his eyes were more than likely saying the same.
You kept your gaze trained on the lake in front of you. “I’m okay.”
“Please?”
You only nodded because you knew you couldn’t say no. He’d probably ask a bunch of questions about what was going on with you, and you were a terrible liar so you knew you’d actually have to be honest with him. And how were you going to be honest with him, if you couldn’t be honest with yourself just yet?
You allowed yourself to get comfortable in the passenger seat of Steve’s BMW, leaning back into the seat and staring out at the dark road ahead of you both. If the circumstances had been different you could’ve maybe found yourself falling asleep in his car. But, it was too quiet and things felt awkward, so you couldn’t help but say the first thing that crossed your mind.
“How are you and Nancy?”
Steve didn’t say anything for a few long moments, but then he cleared his throat. “She’s, uh, she’s still with Jonathan.”
“Oh,” You said, and couldn’t hide the surprise in your voice. During everything, it seemed like the two of them were on some sort of course toward getting back together. “Sorry.”
He shrugged halfheartedly. “It’s fine.”
Something about his demeanor told you that it actually wasn’t fine.
Your eyes glanced at the time displayed on the dashboard. It was two in the morning but you weren’t tired enough. And you really didn’t wanna go back home just yet.
“Um, can we go to yours actually?”
You fully expected him to question you and ask why you wanted to go to his place and not your own. But, he didn’t ask anything and instead gave you a small nod. “Okay.”
His house was quiet and although you weren’t entirely sure how long you’d be staying, you slipped off the sneakers you were wearing and left them by the front door.
“You want something to drink?” Steve asked. “I would also offer something to eat, but there’s nothing really here.”
You shook your head. “Where’s your bathroom?”
“This way,” He said and then led you upstairs to the bathroom that was connected to his bedroom.
When you flicked on the light and looked in the mirror, it was then that you noticed how bad you looked, and it actually made sense to you that Steve had wanted to take you home. Your face looked exhausted, but you didn’t feel tired at all.
The t-shirt you were wearing, which had been Eddie’s, was insanely wrinkled and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d taken it off, and the old dark sweatpants you were wearing had some random bleach spots on them.
When you exited the bathroom, after splashing some water on your face to hopefully bring some life back to it, you noticed Steve lingering by his bedroom door.
“You could’ve told me how insane I look right now,” You told him.
“You look… fine,” He said hesitantly and you rolled your eyes as you sat on his bed. “I think you just look tired?”
You let out a small sigh and crossed your legs underneath you. “I’m quite literally the opposite.”
He sat down next to you and things became quiet.
“Why were you at the lake?” You decided to ask as you turned to look at him.
“Couldn’t sleep, so I was just driving around,” He responded and you nodded at that as you looked down at your lap.
You silently wondered if the aftermath of everything was hitting him as hard as it was hitting you. You almost asked him how he had been doing since it all happened, but the question couldn’t form on your lips.
“I did mean what I said back there,” He abruptly said as he turned to you. After a few moments of quiet contemplation, you met his gaze. “You can talk to me. I know we didn’t know each other before everything happened, and we still don’t know each other that well. But, still… I’m here. If you ever wanna not forget about everything, we can talk about it.”
You appreciated his words, you truly did. But, the thought of actually talking about everything made you feel physically ill.
Steve placed his hand atop yours and gave it a light reassuring squeeze. The action was so minor and could’ve easily been deemed as meaningless, but it did mean so much to you. For some reason that you couldn’t decipher or understand, he really did care about you.
You shifted a bit closer to him and allowed your body to move faster than your thoughts could tell you that what you were doing was a bad idea. You moved into his lap, knees straddling either side of his waist.
“Is this okay?” You asked, eyes meeting his.
He nodded slowly and you could see the minor confusion on his face but you chose to ignore it because if you didn’t you knew that you would start thinking too hard about what you were doing.
So, instead, you kept your mind off and let your body run on autopilot. Your hands settled at the nape of his neck and you leaned down to kiss him. His hands were firmly planted at his sides, too scared that all of this somehow wasn’t real to touch you back, but he did kiss you with just as much passion as you were giving him.
It finally felt good to actually feel something; something that didn’t cause you sadness.
“Touch me, Steve. Please,” You said in-between heated kisses.
He didn’t have to be told twice and his hands were on you in an instant, sneaking under your t-shirt and rubbing the soft skin of your hip, then waist, then back, then all the way up to your bra-covered breast. You moaned at the feeling of him squeezing you through the thin fabric.
You pulled back for a second to pull off your shirt and toss it somewhere in the room, and Steve took the opportunity to flip the two of you so you were pressed against the bed and he was on top of you. Your hands found a home in his hair as the two of you resumed kissing with even more intensity that time around. When Steve’s lips found your neck, you involuntarily bucked your hips upward and rubbed yourself against his hardness, which elicited a soft groan from him.
Abruptly, he pulled away. “Wait– Shit– Sorry.”
He rolled off of you and you turned on your side to look at him with confused eyes; he was staring up at the ceiling. “Why are you sorry?”
“You’re sad right now,” Steve said, still avoiding your eyes. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
He was right about the first part, but that didn’t mean that what the two of you were doing was a bad idea. In fact, you thought it was the opposite.
You were lonely, and you were pretty sure he was too. Why couldn’t the two of you help each other feel not alone?
“It’s okay. Seriously. I want this,” You told him as you shifted closer toward him and ran a hand through his hair.
He was looking at you now, searching your eyes for full confirmation that this really was okay. And he didn’t see any uncertainty in your gaze, but he still was hesitant.
“Please,” The word was soft and quiet, but Steve heard you loud and clear, and something inside of him shifted.
Finally, he was kissing you again and not wasting a second to move you back on your back so that he was on top of you as he peppered kisses down your body.
And finally, he was pulling off his shirt and pants and boxers and grabbing a condom, and you were taking off the remainder of your clothes as well.
And finally, he was slowly pushing himself inside of you and groaning at the feeling of you around him, your wet walls taking him in so well and squeezing around his cock so tightly.
You moaned and winced at the feeling as you adjusted to having him inside of you. You had had sex before but Steve was huge, and it felt like it was your first time all over again.
“You okay?” He asked, hand finding your cheek to softly stroke it.
You gave him a small nod and let your eyes slip shut as you shifted your hips a little. “Mhm. You can move now.”
He pressed a quick kiss to your lips as a way to say “okay” and then slowly began moving, pulling out just a little bit and then pushing right back into you.
You moaned uncontrollably as your chest swelled and your body was overcome with an insane amount of emotions; and all of them were surprisingly good emotions, which you hadn’t been used to anymore. You had felt so empty for so long that you didn’t expect to ever feel anything again.
But, now here you were with Steve.
You opened your eyes and immediately met his dark gaze. You didn’t shy away from his stare. Instead, you liked looking at him and seeing how equally enamored he was with you in that moment because of what the two of you were doing.
His hair was falling into his eyes with every thrust, so you reached up to run your hands through it, and you loved the loud groan he elicited when you gave his dark locks a soft pull. He began pounding into you with much more vigor.
“Fuck, Steve. Yes.”
“You’re so good, doing so well for me,” He said as his hand snaked down between your bodies to begin rubbing tight circles against your clit.
You cried out his name loudly and arched your back at the feeling of his fingers against the sensitive bundle of nerves. “Shit, shit, shit.”
“You’re so close, aren’t you? I can feel you squeezing around me so tight, fuck,” Steve groaned, movements getting harsher and sloppier with each thrust. “You wanna come?”
You nodded immediately and frantically. “M’so close, yes. Please, please make me come.”
His fingers rubbed your clit harder and faster, which was enough to make you see stars and send you over the edge. His lips messily found yours, swallowing your moans as he continued fucking you through your orgasm and found his own release only moments later.
Your breaths were still coming out in soft pants and you could feel Steve softening inside of you. “Fuck, that was really great.”
“Yeah,” He agreed with a nod and smile as he slipped out of you and moved to his side, still looking at you. You turned your head to meet his eyes.
Things became comfortably quiet as the two of you simply stared at each other and you could finally feel your eyelids actually getting heavy. But, you didn’t want to fall asleep there.
“Can you take me home?” You asked, breaking eye contact and sitting up in the bed.
“Yeah, no problem.”
Minutes later, you were back in the clothes you’d shown up in and then you were back in Steve’s passenger seat.
And right when your head hit your own pillow, you were asleep and didn’t wake up for a solid eight hours. Which was much different from the usual six, sometimes even five, hours you had become used to getting.
You didn’t think that you’d have sex with Steve again.
Yes, it was absolutely mind-blowing and you’d love for it to happen again because of how good it made you feel; probably the most “good” you’d felt in a while. But, in your head, it was a fluke. You didn’t regret it, but you just didn’t think the circumstances would align for it to happen again.
However, when the next night rolled around, you found yourself creating your own circumstances and calling him, and he didn’t hesitate to tell you to come over.
-
Now
“You miss him?”
You almost made some joking comment about how Steve was still inside of you and he somehow decided that right then was the time to shift the conversation to your best friend, but you refrained from doing so.
Steve was always so much softer than you were after sex, and he had always wanted to make sure you knew that he was there for you if you wanted more than just sex.
You had wanted to show him that you would do the same for him too; let him talk about Nancy and everything he was feeling from that situation. But, it was too hard.
Because more than anything, you wanted this to be as mindless as possible.
After a few weeks, he decided to stop trying to start a conversation with you after because of how little you reciprocated. However, apparently, this time was different though.
And it was also different for you too because you actually found yourself wanting to talk back.
“All the time,” You finally answered as you shifted off of him and let your head find his pillow as you grabbed the thin sheet to pull it over you a bit. “Pretty much all hours of the day.”
You didn’t say that the only time you didn’t miss Eddie, that the only time things actually felt the tiniest bit bearable, was when you were here with Steve. Because you hadn’t realized that until right then, and the thought slightly startled you.
You turned on your side and faced him. “You miss her?”
He turned too and his hand found your hip underneath the sheet and mindlessly started tracing small circles on the bare skin. “Who?”
You gave him a look because you knew that he knew exactly who you were referring to.
His eyes shut for a second and you could tell that he was thinking about what to say. “Sometimes, I guess.”
You glanced down at the scar he had on his abdomen from where he was attacked by the demo-bats and slowly let your fingers trace against it. “You could always just tell her, y’know? Tell her that you love her.”
“Did you ever tell him?” His voice was quiet.
Your eyes flickered back up to his. “Tell him what?”
“That you love him.”
His words slightly confused you but you nodded your head. “Of course, probably every day. But, that’s different.”
“How?” Steve asked, genuinely curious, and you thought it was slightly funny because in your head the answer to his one-worded question was obvious.
“I didn’t love him how you love her.”
“What?” The confusion was evident in his tone.
Your eyebrows furrowed. “What?”
He shifted and sat up in the bed, the sheet sinking down and barely covering his hips. You almost followed suit and sat up too, but you were too tired to do so, so you just looked up at him and started becoming confused because of how confused he seemed.
“You and Eddie… You two– You guys were together, right?” He asked, eyes finding yours.
“Ew, no,” You said and laughed a bit. “Eddie is like–” You sighed at your mistake. “Was like… a brother to me.”
“But…” Steve trailed off, unsure of what he wanted to say because there was a lot circling his mind right then.
“What made you think that we were dating?”
“You guys were so close. It just– It made a lot of sense,” He answered, and you understood what he meant. You and Eddie were insanely close, but not in that way. Never in that way. Simply the thought of him being anything more than your closest friend felt slightly incestual to you. “And when I saw you that night, after everything, you were crying at lover’s lake.”
“I was not crying,” You said with a small scoff. Although you did remember that you had been close to it that night. “And I hadn’t necessarily gone there on purpose, I was just walking around to make myself tired so that I could sleep, and I ended up there.”
“Wow,” He said, letting out a small breath as he leaned back against the pillow and stared up at the ceiling.
You almost laughed at how surprised he was at your words. “I can’t believe how big of a revelation this is for you.”
He turned toward you again. “It’s just– Wow.”
“Okay, now that that is cleared up, I guess, back to you and your situation. You should just tell–”
Before you could finish your statement, Steve abruptly pressed his lips against yours.
The two of you never kissed outside of sex, only during it and as a prelude to it. Never after, though.
So, that surprised you. Even though you kissed him back almost immediately because of how many times you’d kissed him before, you were still in shock because this was probably the most chaste and sweetest kiss he had ever given you. But, it still felt so familiar.
When he pulled away, you should’ve asked something along the lines of “what was that for?” or “why did you do that?”. But, instead, your mind trailed back to something Steve had said earlier.
“I could never tell you to fuck off.”
And that statement made you ask a question that might have sounded so random, but it felt like it was connected to what he had just done.
“Earlier, why did you say that you could never tell me to fuck off?”
Steve’s hand softly stroked your cheek and he was completely unfazed by your question. “Because I like you too much.”
“But, Nancy–”
He shook his head before you could finish. “She’s with Jonathan and she’s happy. They’re meant to be. I’ve accepted that.”
“But…” It was your turn to trail off because you didn’t know what to say. All you could do was simply stare at him and take notice of how tenderly he was looking at you in that moment.
“This whole time I felt like a horrible person because I was falling for you while I thought you were grieving your boyfriend. I can’t believe how wrong I was,” He said with a small sigh.
Your mind was effectively blank and there was nothing you could even think of saying to Steve right then. There was way too much to process in such a short amount of time.
You felt like you were in the same “misunderstanding boat” as him. Because in your mind he had still been in love with Nancy. Therefore, why would you allow yourself to like him? You would’ve just ended up getting hurt and losing him, and he was the only thing in your life that made you feel somewhat better about Eddie.
You were then reminded of your earlier realization, and how good it felt being with Steve on sleepless nights like these.
“I thought you loved Nancy,” You finally said.
“And I thought you and Eddie had been together.”
You couldn’t help but laugh a bit. “We should talk more. Our communication is pretty shitty.”
His arm circled your waist as he laughed too and pulled you close to him. You let your head settle on his chest and your eyes slip shut.
It was quiet for a few moments before you decided to finally let yourself be completely honest with him. “I think I like you too much too. Like, too much. It’s so much harder to go to sleep when I’m not here with you. And you make things feel a lot better. Everything that happened… It doesn’t hurt as much when I’m with you. Somehow it all actually feels okay.”
Your voice was soft and it could’ve been easy for Steve not to hear you, but he did. Instead of immediately responding, he simply held you tighter and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. You could’ve sworn if your eyes weren’t closed you’d be crying from the action.
“Don’t leave tonight, okay?”
His request didn’t fully surprise you, but at the same time, it did. Mainly because it was something that neither of you ever really talked about or acknowledged.
Sometimes, actually a lot of the times, you would end up falling asleep in Steve’s bed with his arms around you, but you’d always be gone before the morning came because you knew that everything would feel too “real” if your moments with Steve lived beyond the nighttime. And he never called you out on abruptly leaving or ever tried to convince you to stay.
Of course, now, you didn’t care about what it would mean if you stayed with him as the night slowly faded away. And in fact, you found yourself aching for mornings with him and days spent together doing nothing or driving aimlessly around town in addition to the amazing nights you’d have together.
You smiled softly into the darkness as you nuzzled yourself impossibly closer to him and finally responded. “Okay.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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The Graduation Lineup
Ship: Steve Harrington x Henderson!reader
Summary: Billy Hargrove comes between you and Steve at graduation—but only by last name. Additionally, you finally find out Steve's middle name (among other things).
Word Count: 5,899 words
Warnings: Billy, Stancy mention, flashbacks (aka weird timeline/narration), little bit of self-pity from Steve, fluff
Note: Set in season 2! Also pretend Tommy's last name comes after Henderson so that you get stuck between him and Steve.
☟ Continue below the fold ☟
Graduation practice was held inside the school gym. You'd been there for an hour at least, waiting for it to start and then going through the list of names to get everyone in the right seat and spot in line. They were on F now. Your leg bounced where you sat, but from boredom, not from nerves. While everyone else was panicking about who they would have to sit next to for the entire ceremony, you knew who you would be next to—and you were happy with it. It was the same boy you were already sitting next to: Steve Harrington.
It was a little weird, you thought, that it all worked out so perfectly. That there were no other Hs separating Harrington and Henderson. That Harrington was the one you had gotten so close to over the past four years, but particularly close to in the last semester alone.
The vice principle got through the Fs and into the Gs. Soon.
"You alright?" he asked you, seeing your bouncing leg.
You nodded. "Just impatient."
Steve smirked, a signature King Steve smirk he hadn't quite shaken. "Got somewhere to be, Henderson?"
"I have to pick up Dustin from Mike's, they all had a sleepover last night. Not that Dustin minds staying over a little longer, but Mom does. She doesn't like him being out of her sight for too long these days."
Steve's eyes went glassy, like they did when he thought about what happened that night for a little too long. "Yeah, well... Can't blame her for that one."
"I don't," you said. "Not when Dustin still has nightmares."
Shock flickered across his face. He opened his mouth but then—
"STEVE HARRINGTON!"
He stood, grinning down at you. "See you in a minute."
You gave him a tiny wave goodbye as he walked away and waited a second for your own name to be called. The vice principle watched Steve take his seat, then looked down at his list.
"WILLIAM HARGROVE!"
Your heart stopped. What? Shit. You'd forgotten about Billy. You bit back a groan, glancing around the gym to try and spot him. There was no movement.
Of course you'd forgotten about Billy—he wasn't even here. Not to mention, he hadn't been here for eleven years. It had just been you and Steve next to each other for a solid eleven years. Steve on one side of you, and his (former) best friend Tommy on the other. Tommy had always been pissed that you separated them, but Steve had never minded, and he certainly didn't now.
"Not here today?" the vice principle said. "Alright, the next student should leave the seat next to Steve open for him." He looked back down at his list and called your name.
You walked to your spot—next to the empty seat—as if in a trance. You sat and looked over at Steve, who looked just a blindsided as you.
Your gaze dropped to Billy's empty seat. "But..."
For some reason, it felt like a betrayal. It felt like the world was ending.
You're overreacting, you told yourself. Just calm down.
But you had been next to Steve for eleven years. Every roll call they organized you by graduating class; every assembly; every Department of Education required testing. You had been in the seat next to Steve for your PSATs and SATs, stealing glances to find him sitting with his eyes huge, not a thought in his head, and trying so hard not to giggle. Then laughing about it after, when the proctors let you all leave, and the two of you exchanging a knowing look the moment you left the classroom.
Over time, especially after the demodogs, Steve grew to be something like your best friend, although, if asked, you'd probably say Nancy was your best friend. You'd grown up with her, too, when Dustin spent the night at Mike's.
(Which made you feel slightly like a traitor when, after all that had happened between her and Steve, you couldn't help but tolerate him enough to like him.)
But you also knew what happened that night in the Byers' house. You knew Billy and Steve had gotten into a fight bad enough to knock Steve unconscious and leave him banged up and bloody. You knew Billy hated him more than ever after that, even though it had been Max who finally knocked Billy out, and you knew it was the promise Max extracted from Billy that kept him from trying to finish the fight with Steve "properly."
So you knew that the look on Steve's face was not just from being separated after eleven years. You knew it was also from terrible fear, overwhelming fear.
The vice principle had gotten to the Js. You hadn't heard any of them, hadn't even noticed Tommy H. sit next to you. You just stared at that empty seat where Billy should have been—where you should have been.
~❊~
You considered yourself fond of Steve Harrington.
He'd saved your brother's life, after all, and the lives of Dustin's friends. Dustin had wasted no time in telling you just how great his new hero was, despite the fact that he was falling asleep in the back of the car when you'd rushed to Steve's house to pick him up, late at night.
"And he took his bat—the one I told you about, with all the nails, that one—and he just started bashing with it. And then, and then, and then, when the demodog got on the roof of the bus, he pushed us away so it couldn't kill us!" He smiled sleepily in the back, visible in your rearview mirror. "You shoulda been there. You shoulda seen it! He was awesome, just...just so awesome... So bitchin'."
You would have reprimanded him for his language (even though it wasn't going to stop him), but he was already asleep, without even finishing his story.
Had it surprised you? A little bit. The King Steve you had known was nothing like the Steve in Dustin's story, but you didn't doubt Dustin. You'd seen a change in Steve the past semester or so. But you'd sat next to him for eleven years, gotten to see a side of him that he didn't let the rest of the school see. And when you'd gone to pick up Dustin, the boy before you was deserving of your sudden fondness for him.
"Hey," he said, greeting you from where he leaned against his car, next to the open door revealing Dustin in the back. "I would have waited for you at the Byers', but I know this is closer, and it's late, so—"
Dustin shouted your name, hopped out of the car, and ran to you, hugging your legs tightly. He'd pretended to be fine when Steve called, but you could tell he was terrified and glad the whole thing was over from how tightly he hugged you.
You looked up at Steve, leaning down just enough to wrap your arms around Dustin's shoulders. "I can't thank you enough, Steve, really." He waved away your thanks, but you talked over him. "Seriously, Steve. Thank you. If anything had happened to him, I would've..." You looked down at Dustin, at a loss for words. "I don't know what I would've done."
"Yeah. Just..." Steve shrugged. He seemed embarrassed to be standing at his car, giving back your brother like two divorced parents and their child. "He needed help and...I was around."
You prodded Dustin toward the car. "Go get in the car. The back, I've got too much stuff in the passenger seat."
He nodded, stifling a yawn and heading to the car without protest.
You looked back at Steve. "Thank you. Again."
Steve nodded, his eyes locked on yours. "Any time."
Without really realizing it, you closed the distance between you and Steve and threw your arms around him, squeezing him tightly and trying not to cry into his shoulder. He stood frozen for a moment, but then his arms came around you and squeezed. For some reason, you remembered he was dating Nancy Wheeler at that exact moment.
"Hey..." His voice was impossibly soft. "Hey, it's okay. He's okay. They're all okay."
You pulled away from him, sniffling and wiping your eyes. "I... I'm sorry. I don't know why I..." You shook your head. "Long, hard day, I guess."
"Don't worry about it," he said, in a tone so gentle and kind that you didn't.
So yes—you were fond of Steve, and that fondness grew when he visited more and more and more often to visit Dustin, or take him somewhere when you couldn't, and you learned through Dustin's endless chattering that Steve and Nancy had broken up a while ago, so you felt a little less guilty about the hug.
You considered Steve your best friend. You might have considered him more than that, if not for your friendship with Nancy.
(Although, did that really matter, when she was happy with Jonathan and comfortably over Steve?)
But you were far less fond of Billy Hargrove.
In fact, you were quite positive that you despised Billy Hargrove.
Even before knowing what he had done to Steve, to your brother and his friends, you had hated him. You had seen him antagonize everyone, from the poor, already outcast nerds, to the popular clique like Steve. Everybody suffered at the hands of Billy, one way or another. Even Max—or, perhaps, especially Max.
Regardless, you hated Billy. And now you had to sit between him and Tommy H, instead of next to your best friend? God, these were going to be a rough couple of hours.
~❊~
On your way out of the gym, you found Steve waiting for you at the door.
"I know you've gotta go pick up Dustin, but after that, do you wanna—"
"Steve, I will do anything you want as long as you let me vent. I can't believe I'm stuck next to Billy Hargrove," you complained.
He snorted. "Yeah, believe me, you're not alone there. Jesus, I wanna punch him again."
"Hey." You put a hand on his chest, stopping him. "Don't start anything you can't finish."
Steve brushed you off and kept walking. "I didn't say I was going to, just that I want to. And, believe me, I really, really want to."
"We'll just ask Max to do it."
He groaned. "Don't remind me that I needed a twelve-year-old to fight my battles for me."
"She's thirteen." Steve gave you a look. You giggled. "Alright, alright. I'll leave you alone."
He pushed the front door of the school open and held it for you, following you out. "Okay, so, you need to vent, I want to go out—milkshakes later?"
"Yes, please," you nearly groaned. "But you do realize Dustin is going to want to come, right?"
Steve rolled his eyes. "You don't have to tell him. Just...bring him home and I'll pick you up at one?"
You rolled your eyes back at him. "The instant you show up at our door, Dustin's Steve-senses are going to tingle and he's going to hop in the front seat before I can. He's practically attached at the hip to you."
Steve laughed. "You have a point there. Alright, fine—Dustin, too."
You split away from him to head to your car, only for him to follow you. You realized he'd parked next to you. "We'll meet you at Benny's!" you said, getting into the front seat. He nodded slowly and waved you off. You returned the wave and left the school parking lot behind.
It was only after Steve was just a figure in your rearview mirror that it dawned on you he'd phrased the whole thing differently from just a regular hang-out with the group.
"But after that—"
"I want to go out."
You glanced back out your window, not daring to identify meaning of the twist of anticipation in your chest.
~❊~
Dustin slurped loudly on his almost-finished milkshake. You and Steve, who were only halfway through your own milkshakes, made eye contact over your glasses and giggled.
Your little brother looked up from his glass. "What? What's funny?"
"Nothing," the two of you said in unison. You glanced back up at him and your stomach did flips. The expression on his face looked like your fondness felt. It looked like the face Nancy had described to you, back when she was still sort-of in love with Steve—before Barb died, and before the Upside Down.
You and Nancy lay spread out on her bed, your legs hanging over the end of her bed, her feet curled up behind her, her knees at her pillows. Your hears were right next to each other, turned toward each other so you could see the huge smile on Nancy's face.
She was half an hour deep into telling you about her date with Steve. "And he just...he had this look on his face, you know? Like there was nothing else that mattered. Like I was the only thing left in the world. The only girl left." Without even realizing it, she had brought her hand up to her hair, curling it in her fingers. "His eyes, they were so...so soft and so open. And his hair was falling into his face, he'd been blowing it out of his eyes for hours, it was so cute, ridiculously cute, but he stopped trying to get it out of his face when I giggled at him."
You giggled at her. "You are so in love with him, admit it!"
Her grin got impossibly bigger. "That...that's the thing. I think he wanted to say it to me."
Your eyes widened. "He was gonna tell you he loved you?!"
"I think so," she whispered. "But then the door opened, and it was loud, rowdy teenagers, so we just glanced over at them and started to laugh and—" She giggled. "And then it was gone. But it was there. He wanted to say it to me." She paused and, in a whisper, added, "And I think I wanted to say it back."
You shrieked with joy, reaching for her and tickling. "Nance, oh my God!"
She giggled, batting her hands away. "Stop it, stop it, I can't breathe!"
"Have you told Barb yet?"
Nancy's mood darkened a tad too much for your liking. "I don't think she'd like it. She's not a...huge fan of Steve."
"Oh, come on, if you're happy, she'll be happy for you, right?"
Nancy rubbed her arms. "I don't know. I hope so?"
"Just tell her, Nance, she'll be okay. She'll get it." You grinned at her again. "Oh my God, I can't believe it, you're in love with Steve Harrington!"
You tore your eyes away from Steve, looking back down at the milkshake he had insisted on buying for you.
"Do you think they're going to say our middle names when we graduate?"
"Huh?" You looked up. That expression of Steve's was gone. "Our middle names?"
He shrugged. "Yeah. You know, we're just walking up and they're saying our whole names."
You blinked at him.
"They're supposed to," Dustin said beside you. Your heads turned toward him.
"What?"
"They're supposed to say your middle names. At least, most high schools do it for graduation. Did they not do it during rehearsal today?"
"No," Steve said. He groaned, thumping his head into the table. "Damn it."
"Why?" you asked, giggling at his melodrama.
He lifted his head back up, sipped on his milkshake, and said, "I hate my middle name. I hate it! It's so...stupid."
You bit your lip, trying not to laugh again. "Well, now you have to tell me what it is."
Steve scoffed. "Absolutely not."
You leaned forward across the table. "Tell me."
"No," he insisted.
"Yes!"
"No way!"
You found Steve's foot with your own under the table, making him jump. "Come on, Stevie... Just tell us!"
"No!"
"We're gonna find out anyway," Dustin piped up from beside you. "They're gonna say it at graduation!"
Steve shook his head resolutely. "No. They might not, because they didn't at practice, and if they didn't, I'm not embarrassing myself by telling you now."
You rolled your eyes at him. "It can't be that bad. No parent would name their child something that awful."
He snorted. "You have clearly never met my parents."
"No, I have not, but now I would like to," you said. You'd heard him complain about his father being a "grade-A asshole" before, a phrase Nancy had confirmed he'd used multiple times about his father, but you'd never seen just how bad he was.
Steve shook his head, going back to his milkshake. "No, you don't," he said quietly. The look in his eyes—like a sad, lost, kicked puppy—shut you up effectively. So you let it go, drinking your milkshake happily.
Dustin twirled his straw around in the remnants of his whipped cream. "Did I tell you about the project Mr. Clarke gave us? I might need help setting it up, but he wants us to make a machine out of stuff we have around the house."
Steve brightened. "Is it a Rube Goldberg machine? I remember those! I think I used mine to open the door to my patio..."
"Yeah!" Dustin grinned. "Mike, Lucas, Will, Max and I have a contest to see which of us can make the best one. I already know Mike's getting Nancy's help, and Will's getting Jonathan's, and I think Max and Lucas are collaborating to make two separate projects, so I could really use you guys to help..."
In amongst Dustin's chatter, you glanced toward Steve, finding a small smile on his face as he watched the kid talk animatedly. Dustin pulled a napkin toward himself and started sketching out vague plans for his machine. You felt Steve's foot move beside yours. You glanced over at him as he started playing a subtle game of footsie with you under the table.
You stifled a giggle, smiling at him in a way that was far too friendly—or, rather, not friendly enough. That look came back on his face, the lovey dovey look Nancy had gushed so much over. You understood why now. Had the roles been reversed, you would have gone straight to her to tell her all about the way Steve Harrington looked at you like he was in love with you.
That tight feeling in your chest came back, a simmering, traitorous hope nestling in your heart and not once listening to the screams of your brain that you should not, absolutely should not, fall in love with your best friend's ex.
Steve propped his head up with his hand, that dreamy look in his eyes intensifying. His lips pursed slightly before they fell apart, pure wonder in that small, involuntary motion.
To hell with not falling in love with your best friend's ex.
You lifted your foot a little higher, catching the cuff of his jeans and slowly but surely tugging up. Steve gulped, pink dusting his cheeks. You felt a brief but distinct shiver of glee.
Dustin pushed his empty cup away from him, the scraping on the table drawing your attention away from Steve. For a moment, you feared Dustin had caught sight of your not-so-subtle flirting and was about to call you out on it, but then he yawned.
"Can we go home?" he asked you, his sudden tiredness evident in his voice.
"You didn't sleep at all last night at Mike's, did you?" you asked with a sigh. "Because if you had, this sugar would be keeping you bouncing on the walls for the next four to five hours."
He shrugged. "It was a long campaign." His eyes fluttered, his head drooping. His body slid toward you, your shoulder being the only thing keeping him upright anymore.
Love and guilt crashed over you at the same time. "Oh, don't fall asleep on me here, I can't carry you to the car anymore, Dusty—"
"It's okay, I've got him," Steve said. He paid the bill in cash and got up from his side of the booth, gently pulling Dustin out from under the table and out of the restaurant. You followed, a glimmer of warmth in your chest. You'd heard Dustin and the others jokingly refer to Steve as their dad; now you could see why.
You unlocked the car for Steve and he put Dustin in the passenger's seat and buckled him in. Dustin mumbled softly—you were quite sure it was a little 'thank you'—and Steve closed the door as gently as he could.
Steve turned back to you, his hands going to his hips. "He's all yours."
"You'd make a great dad, Steve," you said gently, unable to stop yourself, or keep the gentle smile off your face. And when he smiled back at you, you felt like you had flashed ten years into the future, a mom standing and watching her husband carry their sleeping child to the car, doing everything in his power not to wake him.
"I've, uh, always wanted to be one," Steve said, the admission quiet but confident. "Ever since I knew I could be."
"Oh, Stevie..."
He rubbed the back of his neck. "What? It's just...I like the idea. Of being able to be there for someone and guide someone through life and have a family of my own, you know? Like—a big one. A big, happy family."
"I'm not judging you, Steve," you said, hearing the defensiveness in his voice. "I'm not. It's cute. It's really cute. I'm glad that you know what you want in your future."
He sighed, kicking the ground. "Yeah, well. Doesn't help to know what I want if I can't get there."
You raised an eyebrow and waited for an explanation.
Steve shrugged awkwardly, looking the most helpless you'd ever seen him. "There aren't exactly a line of girls just waiting to make King Steve's dreams come true." He bit his lip. "They just want me for a night, if they even want me at all, and then I don't—" He stopped himself short, taking a deep breath, his eyes dropping to the asphalt beneath you. "I'm sorry, this isn't... This isn't the time or place for this. I'm sorry."
You stepped closer to Steve, leaving only a few inches between you. "Hey," you said softly, bringing his gaze up from the ground and back to you. "It's okay. I understand." You caught his hand in yours. "Steve?"
He hummed, his gaze still on your hand holding his.
"You meant for tonight to be a date, didn't you?"
He blushed, but very slowly, he nodded.
Your heart fluttered in your chest. You hesitated, then said, "Do you want a hug?"
The question very nearly made Steve burst into tears. He nodded, accepting your arms around him instantly. He squeezed tightly and you returned the pressure, sensing he needed it. "I'm sorry," he whispered into your ear. "If it was weird, I'm sorry, I should have made it more clear that it was meant to be a date—"
Your hand drifted behind his hand, tangling into his hair. "Don't apologize. You don't have to apologize for wanting to be wanted, Steve. I should have known you wanted it to be just us—and not on babysitting duty." You bit your lower lip, possessed by a sudden boldness. "And, for what it's worth, I'd want you for more than a night."
He went tense and then lax in your arms. "I... What?" He leaned away from you, just enough to see your face but not enough to leave your arms. He whispered your name. "What are you saying?"
You offered him a tiny smile. "I think you know, Steve."
"Say it," he breathed. "Please. Please, I want to hear you say it."
You pressed your forehead to his as his hand lifted to your cheek, fingers brushing over your skin with a reverence you'd never felt before. "I want you for more than one night, Stevie. I want as many night as you'll give me."
The sound he made was both holy and sinful. You really hoped the windows to your car were closed, because that was not a sound you wanted Dustin hearing—especially not from Steve, not while you were wrapped up in his arms and he was in yours.
Steve moved before you did, leaning in but giving you the time and the chance to back away from him. You did the opposite, meeting him in the middle and kissing him softly.
Nancy had not done his kisses justice in her descriptions of them. Though, you had to give her credit, because it was next to impossible to find a good way to describe the gentle pressure of his mouth on yours. There was certainly nothing to compare it to, except for that heady, wonderful feeling of getting out of trouble scot-free, or that beautiful feeling when a choir sings a perfectly arranged chord in a high-ceilinged building.
You whispered his name into his mouth, a prayer on your lips, a desperate cry for more of him. He hummed into your mouth, sending shivers down your spine, and his hands gripped your hips, pulling you even closer to him and then wrapping around you once more.
"Every night, Steve," you whispered against him when he stopped kissing you to breathe, though his lips remained against yours as his chest heaved. "I want you every night."
He groaned. "Don't say that," he whispered. "Don't say it if you don't mean it."
You cupped his face in your hands. "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. I want you, Stevie. All of you, all of the time."
He whimpered. It was a beautiful sound.
"You know..." His words were choppy, split up by his heavy breaths. "If it weren't for your brother in the car, I'd take you home if you'd let me." You opened your mouth, but he put a finger your lips. "Shhh, don't tell me. Don't tell me if you'd let me. Don't let me know what I'm missing out on."
You smiled at him, toying with the hairs at the back of his head. "Kiss me one more time, Stevie. Please, baby."
He grinned. "Well, because you asked so nicely..." And his lips were on you again, and it took everything in you not to moan your relief that he had kissed you again.
Heaven. His kiss was like absolute heaven.
When he finally let go of you, the air between you had changed, filled with a pleasant glee. For the first time in a long time, you saw that Steve's eyes were bright.
"Get your brother home," he told you. "And I'll see you tomorrow. Oh, and, one more thing?"
You reached for his hand, caressing his skin. "Yeah?"
"How about we keep this between us for a few days? Just until graduation." He grinned. "Surprise everybody. I'll walk across the stage and stop to wait for you and we kiss and walk off together—"
"You're forgetting something," you said, shaking your head. "Billy's between us."
Steve's face fell. "I could...wait until he's gone?"
You laughed. "Stevie..."
He sighed. "Well, it was a good idea while it lasted, right?"
"It was cute," you agreed. "Just like you are."
Steve beamed.
"Don't worry—we'll still surprise them all," you said. "We'll just wait until we pose for photos, and right when they snap a picture, we'll lean in and you can give me a big, dramatic kiss, alright?"
"I like that idea just as much," he said, smiling. He nuzzled into you and kissed your cheek. "Get yourself home safe, hun. Okay?"
"Okay," you said. You let go of him slowly, reluctantly getting back in your car. He waited, waving to you as you pulled out of the parking lot, before he got into his own car.
About halfway down the road, Dustin stirred. "I hope the reason you took that long is because you were confessing your feelings for Steve," he said, his voice thick with sleep.
You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. "Go back to sleep, Dustin."
"So he confessed, too," he mumbled. "Good. You need each other."
You bit back a smile. "Whatever you say, Dustin."
"Yeah...whatever I say..."
~❊~
You stood in line, your heart beating out of your chest. You were surprised no one around you had told you they could hear it.
Billy was standing in front of you, seeming ridiculously tall in his graduation cap and gown. Behind you, the cap and gown seemed to make Tommy even shorter than normal.
"STEVE EUGENE HARRINGTON!"
Your eyes went wide and your head whipped very quickly toward an embarrassed Steve. You'd heard him groan when they had first started graduating seniors by calling middle names, too, but you had not been expecting that.
No wonder he hadn't wanted to tell Dustin—the kid was never going to leave him alone about this.
"WILLIAM DAVID HARGROVE!"
Billy walked. You waited until your name was shouted into the room. You could hear Steve cheer as he went back to his seat, and Dustin cheering up in the stands. You shook Principle Higgins' hand and accepted your diploma, practically glowing and feeling on top of the world.
When you were seated and Tommy H. was following you back to his seat, you leaned forward to see around Billy.
"Eugene?!"
Steve groaned. "Shut up. Please. Please."
"I can see why you didn't want to tell us," you giggled.
Tommy leaned around you. "You know, you could've told them not to say it."
Steve's eyes went huge. "I could have?!"
He was quickly shushed by the administrator guiding students to the stage. Stifling giggles, you and Tommy sat back in your chairs, waiting for the end of the ceremony to tease him endlessly.
~❊~
Lover's Lake in June—busy, overcrowded, full of children.
Lover's Lake in June past six at night—still full of children, but just the ones you were keeping your eyes on with Steve.
The party was having an adventure in the water, shouting at each other, the occasional D&D term thrown in. Max and Eleven were a ways away from the group, shrieking and holding their arms up every time the boys splashed the water too close to them.
Steve looked at his watch. "Hey, guys! It's almost eight! You've got fifteen minutes before we gotta get you home."
Max lifted up a hand, giving him a thumbs up, despite the boys not hearing a thing.
"Especially, you, Dusty, you have to go to camp tomorrow!" you called. You got no response.
"Jesus, they never listen, do they?" Steve sighed.
You leaned into his shoulder. "They listen, they just like yanking your chain."
You and Steve sat together at the edge of a dock, feet in the water, his pants rolled up to his knees and his arm around your shoulders. You held a copy of your graduation photo—the photo, the surprise photo where Steve had turned to you and kissed you right as the camera flashed.
"My mom framed her copy of this, you know," you said, handing him the photo. "It's sitting on the hearth."
He grinned. "I'm glad it turned out so well. I was worried it would be all blurry if I didn't time it right." He nuzzled his face into your temple, pressing a series of quick, gentle kisses there. "How'd Dustin take it?"
You laughed, your eyes straying to your brother, who was being tackled by Lucas. "He already knew! After I got in the car, he told me he hoped the reason it had taken me so long to get in after him was because he wanted us to be confessing our feelings to each other."
Steve snorted, loud in your ear. You shied away and he whispered a quick apology. "Of course he noticed. He notices everything."
"Not that it was hard to see we were hiding something from each other," you added, turning to catch his mouth with your own. He hummed into the kiss. "You spent all of that night looking at me with your 'I love you' eyes."
He raised his brows. "Oh, my 'I love you' eyes, really?"
You nodded, giggling at him and pressing closer to his side. You set the photo down behind you as he pulled you into a hug with both arms.
"Well, you weren't exactly the most subtle, either," Steve said, kissing your nose.
"Oh, yeah? What did I do?"
Steve brought his hand up to your cheek, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone. "Oh, you know, you get this look on your face. When you thought I couldn't see you, I guess. You'd look over and it was like...it was like you'd relax." He smiled. "Like seeing me was all it took to calm you down from whatever stress you had."
You smiled. "Yeah, I guess you do kind of have that effect on me." You ran your gaze over him. "You know...you're giving me those eyes right now."
His voice was nearly a whisper. "Good." Steve kissed you deeply, cupping the side of your face to hold you close to him. "Because I do." He squeezed your hip with his other hand. "Because I do love you."
You stared at him, mouth dropped open.
Steve turned red. "I know it's soon, but I—"
"Steve?"
"Yeah?"
"Kiss me."
"Okay," he whispered, leaning back in. When his lips met yours, you lifted your hand into his hair. He sighed happily into your mouth. He wrapped his arms around your waist.
And then it dawned on you. You pulled back from him. "Steve, it's too quiet."
You both looked at the water, half-expecting the kids to be gone, but they were all still in the lake—treading water and staring, silently, at you and Steve.
"What?" Steve asked slowly.
Dustin made a face. "Dude. My sister."
Steve rolled his eyes. "Dude. My girlfriend!"
"You're just as bad as El and Mike," Will groaned, setting off the shouting once more.
Steve glanced at you. "We're not that bad, are we?"
You shrugged. "I don't think so."
He kissed you again. "That's all that matters." He looked back at the kids. "Alright, come on, out of the water! You're not getting in my car soaking wet."
While the kids groaned and complained, Steve stood and offered you his hand to help you up. You took it, kissing his cheek once you were upright. His hand still in yours, you made your way to the car.
Dustin called your name. "Have you seen my towel?"
"Right here, Henderson," Steve laughed. He picked it up from the chair it was flopped over and handed it to him. You leaned into Steve, letting go of his hand so he could wrap his arm around your waist. He kissed the top of your head.
"See?" you whispered to him. "Good dad."
A glint entered Steve's eyes. "Someday," he said, and you got the feeling his someday included you.
You covered his hand on your hip with your own and looked up at him. "I love you, Stevie."
"Still my sister, Steve!"
Steve didn't take his eyes off you and his voice was soft, too soft for Dustin to hear. "Still my girlfriend, Henderson."
☞ ❊ ☜
Stranger Things // Steve Harrington
Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the S.H. taglist!} @ohatropa@nix-rose@live-the-fangirl-life
#stranger things#stranger things 2#season 2#stranger things season 2#steve harrington#tommy h#steve harrington x reader#steve x reader#henderson!reader#steve harrington x henderson!reader#joe keery#stranger things fic#stranger things au#dustin henderson#billy hargrove#stancy#friends to lovers#graduation#stranger things graduation#steve the hair harrington#king steve#barb holland#nancy wheeler#milkshake date#first kiss#confession#love confessions#pining idiots#pining steve
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Hatred | '24 Alphabet Challenge
Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
Summary: Prom night is supposed to be the greatest night of your teenage life... Right?
Words: 1.9k
Content Warning: Stancy mention, Jancy mention, past feelings mention, childhood friends, and unrequited love (Steve)
Prom night, supposedly one of the greatest nights of teenagers' lives. That's a sentiment Steve definitely wouldn't agree with, hanging out outside his own senior prom. He didn't even know why he bothered coming, knowing full well he'd see them together. Hand in hand, arm in arm, dancing to every cheesy slow song the DJ put on. As much as Steve tried to be supportive or ignore it...
He just wasn't over his ex-girlfriend yet.
But that didn't stop him from trying to be the bigger man in the situation. That's what Steve grew into being, the bigger person. No more being a total asshole for the sake of his own feelings. That's something Junior year Steve would do.
"Well, don't you just look so lively tonight." His trance breaks as he's approached by you, coming from the double doors of the Gym hallway not too far away.
"I'm not in the mood tonight."
Steve sounded both fed up and disgusted with your antics already. Even if this was just the first thing you said anything to him all day.
You lean against the cold brick gym wall. Feeling the rough bumps of the hard surface on your back and through your dress.
"Rough night, champ?" Steve sighs, rubbing his eyes, raw from a few minutes of being emotional.
"You don't know the half of it." Glancing over, he sees you for the first time. Admiring the floor length red dress, you always looked good in red. You looked good in everything, at least in his mind.
"Look at you, all dressed up and presentable for once." You smirk at his joke, making him chuckle and smile.
"I always look presentable thank you prick." Smirking to yourself before looking back at him.
"You look good in a tuxedo... Y'know, for you."
"Thanks for the backhanded compliment. Anything good from you is a rarity." You laugh, making him smile even wider. His eyes shift around the parking lot, watching cars pull in, and other kids come to join the party going on inside.
"What're you even doing out here by yourself? I thought you'd be in there with like 9 different girls trying to dance with you at once." He scoffs, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.
"You know, too many options beating down my door. Couldn't disappoint them all."
"Came stag too, huh?" He just nods in response, not saying anything as you both look up into the inky night sky. The only sound to fill the cold April night air was the crickets chirping and distant chatting of other students.
"Are you holding up okay? I saw them dancing inside and... I know the breakup was hard for you, so I just thought I'd check up on you..."
Steve let out a rough sigh, feeling like a complete idiot pining for his ex-girlfriend still. Being broken up for almost 5 months now. He couldn't let her go in his head, they were each other's first loves. At least she was to him.
All of that came crashing to a halt after everything back in November.
"If I'm being honest, no I'm not holding up okay."
"I know I'm not a therapist or anything..." You shrug, glancing back at him as you nervously chew on your thumbnail.
"You wanna talk about it?"
"Not really. I've been talking to Dustin for months about it and no matter how much I try I can't get past it. Like Nancy's cast some kind of spell to stick with me or something." He sighs, looking at the asphalt as he swallows harshly.
"Now we can hardly make eye contact for more than 3 seconds before she turns away... God, she must hate me."
"Steve, she doesn't hate you. She's probably just feeling awkward about everything and trying to respect her new relationship by not hanging around her ex-boyfriend. They're just trying to find their footing as a couple." You reassure him, leaning over to give him a squeeze on his shoulder. Thinking about what he said, you shake your head, grinning at the thought of Dustin.
"And really Steve? Dustin. He's like 14 and barely knows how to handle having a crush yet. He's never even had a girlfriend yet. I know he's smart for his age, but c'mon."
"I know! He's just a great listener. He knows a lot for his age, it's actually kinda scary." You roll your eyes looking at the ground, starting to laugh to yourself.
"What?" His full attention is on you now, a small smile pulling at his lips as he watches you start to laugh harder.
"Nothing I just..." You cover your mouth, snickering again.
"I just never pictured myself giving you of all people a pep talk... You're you for crying out loud. Steven "The Hair" Harrington." You grin, bumping his arm with your elbow.
"King Steve... You're literally the most popular guy in the entire school, and I'm... Me." He shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest.
"That's the fun thing. We're so different, so we can see our point of view while still seeing each other's... Plus, it's nice not having someone around trying to kiss my ass constantly."
"Yeah, I'll just kick your ass instead." You smirk, pressing off the wall, your heels click as you step in front of him.
"Look, I know it hurts now, but it'll pass eventually... And if I can be honest with you... You could do so much better than Nancy frickin' Wheeler."
Steve could feel his eyebrows shooting up in amusement as you got in front of him. For some odd reason, just standing there in your presence felt somewhat calming suddenly.
"Oh yeah? Who'd you have in mind then?"
"I don't know," you think for a second and shrug, "Farrah Fawcett? I think she'd think you were cute. Celebrity or not?"
"Farrah Fawcett? You think Farrah Fawcett, one of the most famous women alive, would want me?"
"Yeah! You're a hot guy, why wouldn't she?!" It's his turn to laugh now, shaking his head as he bites his lip.
"Where the hell would I even meet her?"
"I don't know! I thought we were talking hypothetically." Steve nodded, his face turning serious again.
"It's just... It's hard looking past Nancy, y'know. She was the first girl I ever loved."
"I'm aware, Steve. It's just not always the best thing to dwell on. I'm talking from experience." You bite the inside of your cheek and sigh. Nervous to be this honest, but if it helps get the point across, then so be it.
"Can I be honest with you about something?"
Steve looks at you, seeing how nervous you look to talk. His lips part slightly as he nods.
"Of course."
"I used to have a massive crush on Jonathan ages ago and when he started showing an interest in Nancy it killed me... But he's my friend, so I encouraged him. It killed me but I got over it."
You turn your head, looking up at the sky again, taking in the shining stars above the two of you. Feeling embarrassed about laying everything out there for someone you've barely gotten to know again.
"Took a while but time heals most wounds. So, just know I'm here for you because I know what it feels like... Kind of."
Steve felt your pain as you talked about how you couldn't be with Jonathan, and how that's basically how he felt about Nancy in all honesty.
Silence fell over the two of you as you both looked out to the sky, admiring the stars again. Steve looks over at you, feeling somewhat peaceful. Yet still wanting to ask so many questions.
"How'd you do it? Stay strong like that. I can barely be in a room with her right now."
"I talked to my family. That helped a lot... But I know you aren't the closest to your parents, so that's why I asked if you wanted to talk about it with me." You smile softly, lips turning up as you half shrugged at his question.
"I know we weren't always on the best of terms, but you're my friend and... I care about you."
"We're friends again?" His eyes seemed to light up almost, just like he was a little kid again. Over the past year he's felt like you two were bonding. But never wanted to ask out of fear.
Tension fills the air between you two. It's been this way since you two started becoming friends again. Going through hell together alongside the couple, Steve was trying to avoid like the plague.
"Well you know, when you nearly die fighting inner dimensional monsters together you tend to start caring about their well-being again... So, in a way, I guess we have to thank them for something at least."
Steve smirks before shaking his head.
"Part of me likes to think we'd be friends again someday."
"Who knows." You add, silence falling between you again. It's not long before Steve shifts, pushing himself off the wall and looking at you.
"So let’s say, hypothetically, that I was stuck at this stupid prom without a date and I had no one else to ask but you...”
"Mmm. Mmhm, hypothetically." You nod along, fighting back the urge to smirk.
"Go on."
Steve looked away for a second, collecting his thoughts. He takes a deep breath, turning back to you.
"And, hypothetically, I might need to spend our senior prom dancing, like my life depends on it, because it's possibly the last fun night before the rest of our lives."
"I'm starting to think you don't know what the word hypothetically means."
"Shush," he cuts you off, making you giggle before he continues, "now, hypothetically, would you be interested in dancing with me?"
You nod, looking like you were really thinking about it. As if you didn't know your answer already.
"Well, hypothetically," you play along, making sure to hold eye contact, "I might be inclined to say yes... If it wasn't a hypothetical, of course."
You rub your hand over your mouth, smirking behind it. He holds eye contact, faking a scoff as he stares.
"You're gonna make me ask?" You nod, tongue going to his cheek as he also nods.
"You're impossible, you know that?"
"I wouldn't be saying that to a girl you're about to ask to prom Steve." He chuckles, nodding. You got him there.
His expression shifts to a goofy grin as he sighs with a slight relief.
"You think you can survive the night without making fun of me?" He smirks, holding his hand out for you to grab, you smile back at him taking it gently. Giving him a reassuring squeeze.
"I don't know about the whole night, but I can sure try my best." Rolling his eyes, he pulls you into his side, lacing his arm around your waist.
You look up at him, your gaze meeting again. Taking in his deep brown eyes and soft smile brings... Old feelings from years ago bubble back up.
Your mouth opens to say something, anything at all. But the words won't come out as your heartbeat picks up speed.
That old crush you had on your old friend never really went away over all these years.
Or at least that's what you think at the moment.
#🌿 ivy writes#stranger things x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x y/n#stranger things#stranger things x you
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Baby, I Got Sick This Morning
Chapter Seven
Rating: Explicit
Ships: Harringroveson, Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson
Word Count: 39,085
Status: On Going
Notes: not all of Steve's chronic issues will be healed. He will always have some disabilities because I ain't about about that 'cure all' shit. They're just saving his life here.
Chapter Summary: Eddie and Steve have another heart to heart and being oh so gentle while getting clean ❤ then they get a bit dirty :3
Important calls are made and Billy and Steve get a moment to themselves.
Story Summary: Steve is dying, but what hurts the most is watching how it's affecting his family, his friends, everyone around him.
Nothing seems to be helping - not his community rallying around him, not magic itself, and not the devoted attention of Eddie Munson. Eddie is a rock and a hurricane in Steve's life. Steve might also be a little bit in love with him.
Then, one day when all other options run out, Eddie introduces him to one Billy Hargrove, and Steve's already-screwed-up life might be taking a turn. But is it for the better or for the more dangerous?
As for the magical pregnancy: it will be in the sequel, so you'll be able to read this as a stand alone if it's a squick for you. I gotchu buddies ❤
Tags: Terminal Illnesses, Chronic Illness, Fantasy, What If Stranger Things Was More Like Buffy The Vampire Slayer?, Magic Shit, Mentioned Malpractice, Magic Practice, Magical Healing Cock, Future Magical Pregnancy? It's all complicated and Fairy Tale Rumplestiltskin bullshit, Magical Creatures, Demodogs are Hellhounds, Steve is bad sick from an injury, head injuries, Head Injury, Past Torture, Past Relationship(s), past Stancy, Tinnitus, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Chrissy lived and is living her best life somewhere, mention of cults, Steve's having a bad time but it improves, Steve Needs a Hug, he's gonna get one and more, Billy Hargrove is Bad at Feelings, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Steve with long hair, I'm running out of ideas for tags so I'll add more later, please suggest tags if you like, slow updates but please comment it helps so much
#harle hums#harringroveson#metalsandwich#steve harrington#harringrove#eddie munson#billy hargrove#steddie#mungrove#stranger things
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face on a lover with a fire in his heart - s.h.
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: steve is used to spending the holidays alone, especially after he spent it heartbroken last year. so when you finally tell steve you love him, he doesn’t know how to respond.
content warnings: angst (kinda) to fluff, steve not knowing how to communicate, mentions of stancy, talks of christmas/santa, dysfunctional families, kissing
word count: 4.3k
author’s notes: ok I suck and didn’t have a chance to post this on christmas like planned, but!!! happy holidays and merry christmas to all that celebrate!!! the fact Last Christmas came out in 1984?????? this song is so Steve-coded….argue with the wall
Ending every year with month after month of family-centered holidays seems to be the cruelest joke in the world when you have no one to spend them with. It’s just another reminder of how often your days are spent alone; the empty walls and bedrooms laugh at the idea of a family spending time in them. Steve knows the feeling all too well. He’s become accustomed to spending this time of year alone; he used to make excuses for why he would end up by himself…but now? Now he’s just used to it. There was a holiday two years ago that he didn’t spend alone. Running his fingers over a lightly worn Christmas sweater, Steve thinks back to that night with the Wheelers and Byers. One of the last times he truly felt like he was a part of a family during this time of year. It’s been two full years since he wore that itchy, Reindeer-covered jumper, but some part of him still longed for the warmth that night had. Last year when Steve had spotted the sweater amongst his older clothes it tore him apart. Steve felt like he was being pulled apart stitch by stitch; which is why he wanted to pull the cloth apart seam by seam, yet he couldn’t bring himself to. The ugly sweater reminded him of the good nights he had with the Wheelers – the nights where he felt like he had a family. The nights where he felt loved. He loved Nancy… or at least he thought he knew what love was when he was with her. Love didn’t come easily to Steve after Nancy. He was cautious and careful. Granted he would go on dates that wouldn’t lead anywhere, but it was all to get himself back out there. Or just distract himself – he couldn’t be sure. Then almost a year after Nancy had torn him a part at a Halloween party, you put him back together. Steve grins as his mind shuts off his negative thoughts about his past and focuses on you. He hoped you two could spend your first Christmas as a couple together, but he understood when you told him about your prior plans. Steve would never want to take you from your family or make you feel guilty about his lack of one. Instead he stayed home as the snow fell outside, reminiscing over past Christmases. He unfolds the sweater to get a better look at it, he tilts his head looking at the pattern.
“What the hell is that?” Your voice startles Steve from his stare on the sweater. He’s almost convinced you're a fathom of his imagination until you step further into the room, your eyes scanning over the material, “That is hideous.”
“Hey! I liked this sweater,” Steve pretends to be insulted as he laughs. You squat down, sitting next to him and all of the half-empty Christmas decor boxes. Your eyes light up as you look over all of the garlands, ribbons, nutcrackers, candles, and other decorations. Steve folds the sweater, tucking it away in its box next to the other containers scattered in the room.
“Steve,” you brush the stray curls on the side of his face behind his ear. “I’m sure you wore the hell out of it, but it’s still hideous.” Steve shakes his head as he tries to hide his smile, turning to you with a blush covering his cheeks. His large hands rise from his thighs and brace the sides of your cheeks. Steve brings your face to his, resting your foreheads together with a content smile. Steve leans forward, pressing a featherlight kiss to your mouth. “Hi handsome,” you smirk as you continue to look at him. Steve shut his eyes, moving his thumbs over the high points of your cheeks while a grin still pulls at his mouth.
“Hi baby,” he finally blinks open his honey colored eyes. Steve hesitates before he pulls back, leaving his hands lingering on your face. He watches you as you smile up at him, inching forward to get as close as humanly possible. Steve moves his fingers down the sides of your face and over your arms before finding your hands; he doesn’t want to ask, worried this moment will end too soon, but he has to know if you’re leaving him alone again.
“I thought you were going to your parents for Christmas Eve?” His eyes dip down to where your hands are connected. Steve looks back up to you with wide eyes, “not that I don’t want you here, I- I do. God, I do. I just–”
“Steve–”
“Sorry that sounded shitty. Of course, I want you here. I just don't want your parents–”
“Steve,” you pull your hands from his and rest a gentle hand over his mouth. You can practically feel his smile against your palm. You drop your hand from his mouth and cup his jaw into it, “I was supposed to go to their house, but I wanted to be here with you. If that’s okay?”
Steve is sure his heart could burst out of his chest with the way you’re looking at him and how soft your voice sounds. “Yeah- yeah. Of course,” he stammers out.
“So what exactly are you doing with all this stuff?” You turn away from Steve and he’s already disappointed to have lost your undivided attention. You stand from the floor, rummaging through the storage bins, pulling out a decorative wreath. You hold the decor in your hands and turn to your boyfriend with a raised eyebrow, “it’s Christmas. Shouldn’t this all be up?”
Steve wasn’t sure how to respond where the answer wasn’t completely depressing. He has some decorations up around his large house, just enough to make it look somewhat festive. The tree was up and decorated just enough to look like a Christmas tree and not something Steve lugged in from outside. Yet there were endless boxes of ornaments, wreaths, ribbons, toys, and collectibles from the years where his parents were actually home to celebrate. Now that Steve was older and no longer believed in the magic of Christmas, his parents didn’t bat an eye when a conference was during Christmas or a business trip fell on Thanksgiving. With his childhood home now becoming a Bachelor pad, Steve didn’t feel the need to decorate for these holidays that passed by as if they were just any other day.
“Just didn’t have time to put it all up,” he shrugs as if there's no more meaning to it. You look back at Steve with cautious eyes, watching every feature. You know he’s lying, but there’s no point in calling him out on it now.
“Do you want it up?” You ask, gently running your fingers through the fake pine branches on the wreath. You try to make your tone as light as possible, not wanting to push him. “We could do it now, it might be fun.”
“You- you would do that?”
“Of course I would,” you place the decoration down, putting out a hand to Steve. He looks up at it from the floor before a lopsided grin ghosts his lips. Slipping his hand into yours, Steve stands up from the floor stumbling into you; your chests press together in a clumsy laugh. “But you have to help.”
“Babe-”
“No, nope. You help or I leave,” you tease, rocking back and forth on your heels. You look up at Steve with the biggest puppy eyes you can manage, pouting your lip for good measure. Steve melts under your soft glare, there’s no way to say no to you…it’s almost criminal.
“Fine,” he acts defeated, but he was always going to help you. Steve’s convinced if you asked him to follow you into hell he would without hesitation. He’s downright infatuated with you. Head over heels. Lovesick. Weak in the knees obsessed. He’s completely in love. He has loved you for longer than he would care to admit — but his mind couldn’t allow him to believe in it again. To believe in love means being vulnerable and open to the harm that comes from the person you give your heart to. He had already lived through that tragic tale of an unreciprocated love. It nearly killed him — even more so than the Upside Down. Telling you he was in love with you meant he would have to be on display again. He just couldn’t face it. Not yet.
“Where should we start?” Steve asks, resting his hands on the sides of your face.
“That’s easy,” you step away from him. Grabbing a box with Steve’s mothers handwriting scrawled across the cardboard. “Ornaments.”
❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅
The turntable spins, a Nat King Cole record playing on a low volume in the living room. Steve sits against the soft cushions of the couch watching as you fix the final ornaments on the tree. He loves watching how focused you get with even the smallest of tasks. Your tongue caught between your lips, the end curled up towards your nose. Steve remembers the first time he saw you do it while restocking records at the store across from Scoops. It reminded him of Eddie and immediately warmed his heart; Eddie had played wingman and therapist while Steve agonized over asking you out. Being that he was your best friend, Eddie put in the good word with you and nearly tripped over himself running back across the mall to tell Steve you were totally into him. There’s no guarantee that without Eddie’s meddling you two would have ever ended up together. You were too intimidated by King Steve, while Steve was worried you wouldn’t be impressed by the high school graduate who worked at an ice cream shop. And you weren’t impressed by his job….instead you were impressed by Steve. He wasn’t the same king that he used to be. He was warm and inviting yet, protective and timid…a complete sweetheart. It didn’t take long for you to fall for Steve, adoring every part of him. You were in love with him. There was no stopping it. You tried to keep it inside until Steve was ready to say those three words back to you, but you know it could be a long time coming. His dating history wasn’t the best and the most stable relationship in his life was also the most unstable. You could see it in his eyes and how he held you close that he loved you. You just wished you could hear it.
Eventually after months of dating, Steve had memorized any and all things y/n-related. He knew your favorite songs, least favorite movies, ideal date spots, the way your eyes lit up at the sight of a puppy, the smile you would give friends and the smile you would give him. Steve always held you close, gave you his jacket without hesitation, and warmed you inside and out even in the freezing December weather. A couple weeks ago, you laid against Steve’s chest against the sofa as the fireplace warmed both of you. The glow of the fireplace had you feeling like the inside of a toasted marshmallow; you wanted to melt into Steve and stay here forever. He made you feel safe, loved, and happy. So in the comfort of his arms, those three words slipped from your lips and into the air. The temperature seemed to drop in the millisecond of silence. Steve immediately tilted your chin towards his face near your shoulder, pressing his mouth to yours. The kiss was firm as his large hands cupped your cheeks, bringing you closer to him. You twisted in Steve’s arms, straddling his spread thighs and deepening the kiss. Steve’s soft mouth slid over yours, opening just enough to drag his tongue along your bottom lip. Eventually, Steve pulled away from you, his hands still on your face with a knowing look in his hazel eyes. He didn’t have to say it, you just knew. Steve did love you, you just had to wait until he was ready to say it.
Steve blinks harshly, realizing he’s been staring at you as you stare at the tree. Bringing up his hands to his face, Steve rubs his eyes with the heel of his palm before resting his chin in it. “You’re so pretty,” he gushes.
“Steve,” you say, shifting weight between your legs as you continue to focus on the tree. “Do you have a star?”
A smile pulls at his lips as he watches you, “did you hear me?”
“Yes, thank you,” you cast a quick look over your shoulder. “But do you have a star?”
“It’s upstairs,” Steve grins, beginning to stand. “I’ll go—”
“No, sit.” You insist, pushing him back down to his seat, “I’ll go find it. Just look at the tree and see where we can put these.” You drop the last two ornaments onto Steve’s lap, scurrying off to find the tree topper. He looks up at the 10 foot tree in the corner of the expansive living room. You’ve twirled garland around the staircase railings, added ribbons to doorways, twinkle lights (he didn’t even know he owned) to the windows, and small figurines to every ledge. Steve tried to help you decorate, but instead found himself watching you. The joy you felt during the holidays radiates off of you, warming the walls of his house. He looks down at the two ornaments you gave him; one that you gifted him during your first Christmas as friends. A small, fragile glass ornament shaped to look like a baseball bat. You told him you always thought the bat-spin was sexy after he opened it. Steve nearly fell over hearing the words from you. The second one was a small ornament frame holding a photo of The Party and all their older, teenage counterparts. Steve stands from the couch finally and places the two decorations side by side on tree branches. He steps back to look at his handiwork, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Even though he doesn’t hear you, he feels you behind him even before your one arm wraps around his waist. You press a kiss to his shoulder blades, resting your cheek against his back.
“Did you find it?” Steve asks, his eyes focused on your palm against his tummy. Your fingers brushing over the soft material of his shirt.
“Yep,” your other hand comes into view, the wire star held in your fingers. Steve chuckles looking down at the decoration in your small hands, he takes it from your grasp and spins around to face you. “Want to put it up?” You ask with a bashful smile.
“Nope,” Steve hands it back to you as you pout. In an instant, Steve bends down to sweep you off your feet and into his arms. “You’re going to.” He places you down on the cushions of the couch, squatting down slightly and patting his shoulders. “C’mon,” Steve slaps his shoulders again as you giggle. “Get on.”
“Steve, we’re going to knock the tree over if I fall.”
“So don’t fall,” Steve says with a sarcastic shrug. “I won’t drop you.” His words are so sure and confident that you don’t ask again, you just slip your legs over his collarbones, until you sit on his shoulders. Steve’s large hands brace your thighs against his body, your feet hooking behind them just to be safe. He stands to his full height, bringing you closer to the tree. You place the star on the top branch, settling it down and twisting it until it sits straight. You give a satisfied ruffle to Steve’s hair as he shuffles backwards to see the finished product.
“Good?” He asks, looking up at you through his eyebrows.
“Perfect,” you grin. Steve slowly squats down near the couch again, laying you against the plush cushions. He quickly spins in between your thighs to face you, pressing a kiss to the inside of your legs. He crawls up your chest to hover over you on the couch; Steve leans down and presses his mouth against yours. His hands tangle in your hair as yours trail over his chest, your lips dancing over each other. Steve’s tongue licks over your bottom lip gently before working into your mouth. You melt into him like you always do, pulling him closer by his shirt trying to keep him as close as you can. Steve released a satisfied hum, pulling away from your mouth and covering your neck with sloppy kisses. You move your hands from his chest into Steve’s curls keeping his face against your skin. He presses one more open mouth kiss to your jawline before settling his face into your neck.
“Thank you for letting me decorate,” you whisper, fingers still carding through his hair. Steve’s heart flips in his chest, she’s thanking me? His brain feels like it’s turned into a puddle under your touch and soft words.
“Baby,” he smiles against your skin. He leans up to look at you, holding your chin in between his fingers. “Thank you for decorating. You’re making me want to actually enjoy the holidays.” You nod slowly and give Steve one of those smiles that’s only reserved for him. Steve moves his hand from your chin and cups your cheek. You lean into his touch, eyelids drooping slightly. “Ready for bed?” Steve asks as your eyes grow more tired.
“It’s the only way Santa will come,” you grin as Steve laughs. You wrap your arms around Steve’s neck, preparing for him to lift you off the couch. It’s a movement that you both have practiced several times when you wrap yourself around Steve like a koala. He stands from the couch without missing a beat, sliding his hands under your butt to carry you up the stairs. You both plop into Steve’s bed, nestling into the soft comforter. Steve tosses his shirt aside for you to take, sleeping only in his plaid pajama pants. While you take the opposite approach, slipping into Steve’s discarded shirt and pushing your pants off and onto the floor. Steve lays against his pillows, arms spread out open for you to crawl into. You waste no time tucking yourself into his side, using Steve’s warm skin as your personal heater. Steve presses a kiss to the top of your hair as you toss a leg over his waist. Finally settled into each other, sleep starts to creep in while Steve admires you. He moves his fingers over your arms, drawing mindless shapes onto your skin.
“Thank you.” He wants to tell you he loves you, but all that comes out is: “thank you,” he repeats. You shuffle beside him, resting your chin on his ribs to look up at him in the darkness of the room. His eyes hold an anxious look in them that you know all too well. Steve’s heart slams against his chest and you can feel it against your fingers. He can’t even think straight as he looks at you, but his mouth continues to fail him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he says again with a heavy blink.
You give a half smile, pressing a kiss to his chest, “I know.”
❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅
“Steve.” You turn over, brushing your fingers over his biceps. The early morning light breaking through the windows.
“Steve,” you repeat, which earns a sleepy groan. He lifts the comforter higher to tuck it under his chin, nuzzling his body closer to yours. Steve’s back presses to your chest, mumbling scattered words but no real sentences.
“No,” he utters. Steve turns in your arms, cuddling into you. Steve’s strong arms work around your waist, pulling you even closer. His chestnut hair tickles your face as he moves and places himself under your face, curled into your chest. “Tired. Warm.”
You hum as you run a hand through his hair, keeping his face as close to your body as you can manage, “but Stevie.” You try once more, adding his nickname, that only he allows you to call him, and a sticky sweetness to your tone.
“What?” Steve pressed his forehead to your rib cage, eyes still closed. He clearly has no intention of moving hand time soon with how warm you feel against his skin and the soft touches of your fingers through his hair. You lean down, pressing a quick kiss to his head as you brush away stray curls.
“Santa came,” you whisper. Steve pulls back from your chest, blinking quickly to clear his eyes.
“What did you just say?” He asks, but his words are slurred from his exhaustion.
You slide down your pillow to be at eyeline with Steve, “Santa came. It’s officially Christmas.”
“Santa?” He asks with a raised eyebrow, finally making eye contact with you. “Baby, Santa’s not—”
“Shh,” you raise a finger to his lips, which he immediately presses a kiss to. “He came. There’s presents, I saw ‘em.”
“What?” Steve asks again, shifting up onto his elbows to look down at you. You grin, your hair fanned out over the soft pillows. “What are you talking about?”
“Just come with me,” you roll out from under the covers and wait at the edge of the bed for Steve. With a groan he tosses on a shirt from his dresser, stands and follows you out the bedroom door. Trailing close behind you, Steve’s steps falter on the stairs as he sees the Christmas tree. The lights twinkle amongst the evergreen branches, ornaments catching the light and spreading it further. Beneath the tree, the old tree skirt is no longer visible under the piles of gifts. It’s like Steve has been dropped into one of those cheesy Christmas movies; everything sparkles and shines, his house feels a lot more like a home at this moment. His eyes flick back to find you at the end of the stairs waiting for him. The glow of the Christmas lights ghosts over your face, causing you to look like a fucking goddess. He utters your name, just barely above a whisper as he stands on the stairs.
“You- how did you do this?” Steve’s at a loss for words as his focus continues to jump between you and the tree.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” You play coy, “I didn’t do a thing.”
“Baby—”
“It’s Christmas magic, Steve,” you pull him close by the edge of his tee, causing him to come down the final two stairs. “Just enjoy it.”
Steve leans into your touch, tilting his face down to rest his forehead on yours. You grin looking up at Steve with crossed eyes; he swears you’ve never looked cuter than you do right now. Taking in every feature and emotion in his face, waiting to see if your genius plan paid off to earn you a full smile from him. It works. Steve’s eyes soften completely as his pretty mouth curves up into a toothy grin. He pulls away just for a second, pressing a kiss to your forehead as his thumbs brush over your creeks. Steve watches as your smile doubles its size and the blush covering your face deepens. It only encourages him to cover more of your skin with kisses. He presses his lips to your temples, cheekbones, under your eyes, tip of your nose, jawline, Cupid’s bow, and anywhere else his mouth can reach. Your giggles are contagious as you squirm under Steve’s touch; trying both to get away from his assault of kisses, but also get closer to him. Steve stops once he knows he’s covered every centimeter of skin, rubbing his nose against yours. His mouth hovering over yours, “I love you.”
“You do?”
Steve’s heart nearly falls out of his chest hearing the nerves woven into your question. Of course he loved you.
“Yes, baby,” his nose brushes yours again. “I love you so fucking much. I’m sorry I couldn’t say it before I just-”
You lean up to press a soft kiss to his Cupid’s bow, stopping Steve mid sentence. “I know. It’s okay,” another kiss to his top lip. “I knew you did. You just had to say it in your own time.”
Steve tips his head back, shaking his head in disbelief. How are you real? Is this real? He looks back down at you with misty eyes, “fuck. You’re too good to me.”
“No,” you wrap your arms around his waist, snuggling into his chest. You peer up at him, resting your chin on his chest, “you’re too good to me. I just try to give you what you deserve.”
“But I don’t—”
“Don’t you dare say you don’t deserve this,” you immediately step back from him. Your voice is stern, but filled with adoration as you continue. “Steve, you deserve the fucking world, baby. The world. The universe. The universes beyond ours. If I could go up and pluck a star out of the sky and give it to you I would. These presents, the decorations, my love for you…it doesn’t even begin to scrape the surface of what you deserve. But I’ll die trying to give you everything you do.”
Steve wraps his hands around your wrists, tugging you back to him. His eyes have gone misty again, dropping your hands and wrapping his arms around your small frame. He rubs his hands up and down over your back, “I love you so much.”
“I love you,” you whisper into his chest. He pulls you away from his body to flash you a perfect smile. “Merry Christmas, Stevie.”
“Merry Christmas, baby.”
❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅
i wanna spend christmas with stevie I’m pissed
happy holidays to all that celebrate them! even if you don’t have any one to be with this season, my inbox is always open, we can spend it together <<33
masterlist ❅ requests ❅
-meg
#steve harrington#steve harrington stranger things#steve harrington angst#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x yn#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x y/n
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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.
Chapter five ⭐︎ 'Cause you know it could never be
Warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions of the upside down, mentions of unrequited feelings, mentions of Stancy (I guess), but none really
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Summary: Weeks had passed since your conversation with Steve, and things between you have shifted into a different direction...
Word count: 8k+
Author's note: @hellfire--cult shoutout to my bestieeee, thank you for helping me and for keeping me in check, I love u
Series masterlist ⭐︎ Previous chapter ⭐︎ Next chapter
♡
As the weeks passed, the warmth slowly started to surround Hawkins. The flowers have all bloomed, the sun is blessing the town with light and it’s something you greatly appreciate, knowing that things could’ve been so different had victory not been the outcome weeks back.
The day Steve had come by to apologize and talk, things had started to change between the two of you. While you tried to avoid him at all costs, fearing more confrontations and arguments, Steve had done everything to show you that he really wanted to keep the peace between you both.
You felt awkward around him for the first few days after your conversation, especially because it felt like he was walking on eggshells when he was around you, he bit his tongue whenever you tried to throw a jab at him, he looked at you differently, he was careful with his words and it annoyed you to no end. You never wanted him to feel like he had to be nice to you after what happened. Luckily, he couldn’t keep his act up for long, the moment you said something that was enough to set him off, you went back to your usual banters – though, it didn’t feel as rough as it did before.
You were also dragged into everything involving the whole group. It’s something you would have hated if it wasn’t for Eddie who somehow had nestled his way into your life and reached for the title ‘best friend’ before you could even blink. Despite the fear that still lingered deep inside of you, you let him in and you are glad that you did so. You really needed a friend.
But you are not the only one who grew close to Eddie in the past few weeks, Steve has also taken a great liking to him, and you now see more of him than ever before, because now it isn’t only the weekly movie or game nights that you spend time with him, it’s also Tuesday nights at the hideout, Wednesday nights at the movies, Sunday mornings at the diner and… you don’t mind for a single second.
You used to watch him from afar, now he is everywhere you go and while the relationship you two have isn’t exactly friendly, you still appreciate it. You’ll take anything you can get when it comes to him.
You eye Eddie through the vanity mirror, watching as he lounges on your bed, flipping through some old magazine he had found on your shelf. His curls are wild on his head, a little tamer than usual though, a few new rings adorn his fingers as well as the new shirt that doesn’t exactly fit the occasion.
“Eddie, you could have at least put a nice shirt on! A black one! Without a stupid band logo at the front!”
“Stupid?” He gasps as he sits up, staring at you, looking very offended, “let me remind you, Sweetheart. None of them are stupid, they are meaningful and artistic.”
Max scoffs at him, trying not to shake her head as you’re still using the hot curling iron on her hair.
“Right, because the music video of that Samuel made absolutely fucking sense.”
He drops the magazine and jumps up from the bed, his jaw dropping at her words.
“You mean Samson!?” He almost yells, “Biceps of Steel is a masterpiece, Red!”
You and Max share a look of amusement through the mirror, scoffing simultaneously.
“Yeah, you made me watch that video like four times,” she rolls her eyes at him.
Eddie squints his eyes at her, continuing his ramble while you smile at their bantering.
Not only did you and Eddie grow closer, he and Max did too. Eddie’s new home is close to Max’s, just like back in the trailer park. And the teen just loves to bother Eddie and Uncle Wayne, more so Eddie in the early morning hours, knowing how grumpy he will get. She still snaps at him and judges his ‘poor’ taste in movies and music but he only judges back, though playfully. They behave like siblings and you never get bored watching their banters.
Eddie is the brother Max deserved to have.
“Bla bla bla,” she rolls her eyes at him, sighing in relief when you finish up with the final touches.
“Who taught you to be so rude, Red?” Eddie shakes his head in disapproval.
Max only laughs in response, she leans closer to the mirror and turns her head to the side as she touches her curls. Her eyes meet yours and a smile appears on her face, “thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” you smile as you put the curling iron on your vanity.
Max gets up from the chair, she walks out of the room and into the hallway, still limping a little but the cast on her leg is already gone.
“I’ll call Lucas and see if he’s ready,” she says as she walks down the stairs.
You turn to face Eddie, who is staring at the dress you are wearing, like he only noticed it now. The playful smile on his face is now gone, replaced by a teasing one.
“Got all pretty for someone?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you.
You tilt your head and squint your eyes, “it was a formal invitation, Eddie! You just didn’t get the memo.” You point to his band shirt before you turn away from him and sit down on the chair, picking up your lipstick that you haven’t applied yet.
Eddie rolls his eyes at your words, walking closer to you, he leans down and puts his hands on his knees, staring at you through the mirror.
“Darling, apple of my eye, sweetheart, long lost soulmate… I am not buying shit.”
You keep staring at your lips, careful not to go over the lines as you apply the rosy tone to them, only when you’re done and you put the lipstick in the bag you had picked out earlier, you look up at him with a sigh.
“It’s the same as always, Eddie.”
“Is it?” He tilts his head, still looking at you with that same teasing smile. “Cause while you do wear all these trendsetter outfits, I never saw you wear a dress this… fancy.”
“Trendsetter outfits?” You laugh, furrowing your brows at him. “And fancy? It’s just a black dress!”
He raises his brows, stepping away as he looks down at the silky fabric on your form.
“A little black dress.”
“Well, look who’s the trendsetter now!” You snort.
He walks back to your bed, picking up the fashion magazine that has a little black dress on the cover. He raises it up, showing it to you, “Vogue taught me.”
Shaking your head, you look back at your reflection and add the final touches to your hair, before you apply your favorite perfume. You get up and smoothe down your dress, it’s beautiful and you have been dying for a chance to wear it. But your stomach suddenly fills with doubt because of his reaction. Are you overdressed? No… right? It’s truly nothing special. It’s just a dress, a little black and silky dress, nothing fancy about it.
Besides, Joyce invited you all to a formal dinner, after all. You can’t show up in jeans and a t-shirt, even Max put on a skirt today and that girl hates dresses and skirts with a passion.
But maybe Eddie was right, maybe… you did think of a certain someone when you bought this dress, and maybe you do feel your insides tingling at the thought of seeing him again tonight, maybe you did get pretty for him – even when you know that he will have eyes for somebody else all night. That thought makes you want to stay at home and hide from the world but you can’t back out now, you couldn’t even decline the invitation you got from Joyce herself when you ran into her at the coffee shop two weeks ago.
She is one of the few people in this godforsaken town that you have always liked. Finding out that she is now dating Jim Hopper – the very alive Jim Hopper, wasn’t exactly a surprise to you. You heard all the rumors about them, even before you were dragged into the mess your new friends had been in for the past few years. – The bored middle aged women who met up at the coffee shop every Wednesday afternoon just loved to talk about all the existent and non-existent relationships in this town and well, you loved to hear about all the gossip too, though you always acted like you were immersed in the books you had brought, you really never read a single line whenever they were providing each other new drama.
On the drive to the Byers/Hopper house, you picked up Lucas before you made a quick stop at the store to buy a cake, none of you wanted to show up with empty hands and you didn’t know what else to get – besides the little bouquet of flowers that Lucas got for Joyce.
As you look out the window, watching the passing trees, you listen to Eddie’s conversation with Lucas.
“You ever wonder how Hopper explained his return from the dead?” Eddie asks as he plays with his sunglasses, “cause I’m really curious.”
“I am too,” Lucas says from the backseat.
“Do you think he went with the kidnapping story?” Eddie asks, his sunglasses low on his nose as he glances at you. “Imagine he told Chief Powell and Deputy Dumbass about the upside down.”
“Don’t say that too loud, Eds. Or the suit wearing dicks will come back to take all our hush money back,” you snort. “And then you’ll lose your fancy house and your fancy Barbecue grill.”
He waves his hand at you, “I’ll take my fancy Barbecue grill and move in with you. I’ll still have a fancy house, rich girl.”
You snort.
“Oh, can I move in then too?” Lucas asks, grinning at you. “You always got the best snacks,” he points to the store bought cake on your lap.
“Eddie and I chose the cake together,” you chuckle.
“Well, duh, we’d make great roommates, sweets,” Eddie winks at you. “Same taste in food – but you still need to up your music taste.”
You scoff.
“Honestly, I think a girls only place would be so much cooler,” Max says to him, “just peace all the time, no boys, no stinky clothes lying around… just pure girls heaven.”
Lucas frowns at her, tilting his head, “you say that to your boyfriend?”
Eddie snorts at the offended tone in Lucas’s voice, while you shake your head in amusement.
The burgundy BMW is already in the driveway when Eddie pulls up, he parks his car behind Steve’s. You inwardly curse at yourself for feeling a rush of something just from looking at his car. You tear your eyes away from it and take in the beautiful sight in front of you, instead.
The light blue house has a big porch, flowers on the grass in front of it, a big willow tree on the right side – it’s so pretty and this neighborhood is a quiet one, it’s perfect.
Lucas rings the doorbell, waiting patiently with the flowers in his hands that Max keeps teasing him about, giggling and making jabs at him until he finally gets fed up. He picks out one of the daisies and turns around to face his girlfriend, he brushes her hair back and tucks the little flower behind her hair, which shuts her up immediately, her eyes widen and she starts blushing furiously.
You press your lips together, so you don’t burst into giggles at the look on her face.
Lucas sighs in contentment when she grows silent, he turns back to the door.
Eddie though, he starts chuckling.
Max clenches her jaw, she sends Eddie the deadliest glare you have ever seen. It only makes you want to laugh even more.
The door opens and you’re all greeted by a very happy El, a bright smile on her lips as she waves at you.
“Hi guys, come in!” She reaches forward to Max, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the house, “I need to tell you something.”
The two girls scurry away and up the stairs, leaving the three of you standing on the porch.
Lucas shakes his head, sighing, “you know, I wouldn’t be surprised if Max left me to be with El.”
Eddie throws his arm around Lucas’s shoulder as they both step inside the house, “every girl has a girlfriend, just deal with it, Sinclair.”
“What?” You laugh, following them,“I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Oh, it’ll happen magically, Sweetheart. Once you have a boyfriend, you’ll also find a girlfriend.”
“That literally makes no sense.”
“Oh,” Lucas smirks, looking over his shoulder at you, “he means, once you and Steve stop acting like you hate each other and you’ll fall in love and get together, you won’t only have a boyfriend, you will also have a girlfriend which is his best friend,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you.
You roll your eyes and ignore the way your cheeks heat up at the word ‘boyfriend’. Steve will never be your boyfriend, he won’t even be anything close to it. Hell, he is barely even a friend. He is your frenemy.
You open your mouth to speak when Joyce walks out into the hallway, smiling at the three of you before a gasp falls from her lips when Lucas hands her the flowers.
“Oh, you’re such a sweetheart, Lucas,” she smiles down at the flowers.
You feel a little out of place, being new to this group, being in a tight friend group for the first time in your life feels nerve wracking. And while you aren’t the only one, Eddie is definitely way more sociable and open than you are, where you struggle to make conversations, he rambles on just about anything.
But Joyce makes you feel welcome, she greets you with a warm smile, placing her hand on your arm.
“We got you your favorite,” Eddie grins at her, taking the cake from your hands so you can greet her properly.
“Oh, you shouldn’t have! You’re all so kind,” she smiles at the both of you, “come on, I’ll put it in the fridge for now. You guys go ahead, Jonathan and Nancy are in the backyard with Hop, the kids are in the living room.”
When you step inside, you notice the smell of food from the kitchen and the dining room, the sound of music playing from the stereo – Joy Division. You know right away that Jonathan was the one who put on the music.
You greet Mike, Will and Dustin who are in a heated conversation about something D&D related.
Robin walks into the living room, her blue eyes meet yours and a smile appears on her face.
You eye her up and down, she’s wearing black dress pants, suspenders over her red blouse. Your lips curl into a smirk when your eyes meet hers. She opens her arms for you and you hug her, leaning closer to her ear, “if I was into girls, I’d be on the floor for you right now, Buckley,” you joke, suggestively.
She gasps and slaps your arm lightly, “naughty.”
A giggle falls from your lips when you pull away from the hug, “it’s the truth, you look hot in this outfit.”
She shakes her head, biting her lip as she tries to hide the blush on her cheeks.
“You’re one to talk,” she whispers, smirking when she takes a look at your dress, “how did Munson not crash the car?”
Your lips part in shock, and you look down, “i-is that too revealing?” You whisper, tugging at your dress.
She starts chuckling, “no, I just mean because you’re so gorgeous,” she winks. “I know I’d crash the car, I’d be too busy staring at you.”
“Oh my god,” you swat her arm this time, “Eddie and I are not attracted to each other.” And you’re certainly not lying about that.
“Robin, I see her the same way you see Steve,” Eddie suddenly says from behind you, throwing his arm around your shoulder. “Difference? I’m heterosexual,” he whispers to her before he looks at you, “no offense, it’s not that you’re not hot, it’s just that you’re a little gremlin to me already.”
Your eyes flash with amusement and you put your hand on your chest, “I will take offense to that actually.”
Your stomach flutters when your eyes fall on the figure in the kitchen.
“Sucks to be you then,” he chuckles, “anyways, how’s Vickie doing?” He wiggles his brows at Robin.
You don’t even hear Eddie’s words, you’re already too far gone, staring at the one you had your eyes set on since forever. You don’t know how he always does it, but he looks so gorgeous. His fluffy hair looking better than ever, a smile lingering on his face as he talks to Joyce.
His white shirt is tucked into his dark brown slacks that he paired with a black belt. He looks like he walked straight out of a 60s movie and god, he looks really good. He turns his back to you, and you watch as Joyce leaves the kitchen, walking out into the backyard.
You don’t feel your feet moving, but you feel yourself being pulled into the kitchen, still admiring Steve – his broad shoulders, the way his muscles are moving underneath the shirt.
You are practically drooling over the guy, and you feel shame but not enough to stop yourself from ogling him, maybe you’d feel a bit more ashamed if things between you haven’t shifted into something else, you still get on each other’s nerves, the bickering is still there, poking into each other's ribs to see who bends first, but all that is never too much or hurtful. The scowls are there, they never left, the scrunches of noses, the deadly glares. But you noticed that the bickering had gone from yelling to soft talking. Enough for just the two of you to hear, no one else.
It’s all still the same… but it also isn’t.
And you can’t help but love it.
Steve is cutting vegetables and throwing them into the bowl. Your heart flutters as you take another moment to look at him. While the others are chatting in the living room and in the garden, Steve is helping Joyce prepare dinner. Cute.
You lick your lips, moving closer to him, you brush your hand over his shoulder as you walk past him, not even realizing how soft your touch actually was.
Steve tenses up, not because he doesn’t like your touch – but because he does. He likes it, even if he would never admit it. He recognizes you by the sweet and flowery scent of your perfume, something that makes his insides tingle in an unfamiliar way.
“Hey, Lego head,” you greet him, leaning against the counter next to him, “nice mousse on the hair.”
A smirk tugs at his lips, he puts down the knife as he opens his mouth to speak, though when he turns to look at you, his breathing stutters, his heart stops beating and his eyes widen as the smirk slowly falls – instead, his cheeks heat up and he presses his lips back together, gulping as he takes in the sight of you in your beautiful dress. It’s not any different from the sundresses that you’ve been wearing a lot lately, but it would be enough to make him stutter if he tried to talk right now, because somehow, you look even more beautiful, right now.
You turn away from him, looking around at the food he had already helped prepare, giving him the perfect opportunity to ogle you. It’s a good thing he stopped cutting the fruit, and put the knife down before he saw you, he surely would’ve chopped a finger off by now, and he’s not sure if he would have noticed because, all that he is focused on is how pretty you look, with your glowy, smooth skin and the makeup that you don’t even need, the dress that almost has him on his knees.
But he gets dragged back into reality when your eyes meet his and he remembers who you aren’t supposed to be – a girl who effortlessly manages to make him blush. No one has ever made Steve Harrington blush, absolutely no one, and he surely won’t let you be the first.
“Blondie.”
“Do you think they’ll let us drink?” You ask, looking around as you try to spot anything but soda.
Steve chuckles, shaking his head.
“Are you twenty one yet? No. What makes you think that Hopper will let us drink?” He picks up the knife again, forcing his eyes away from you.
“We fought monsters and had near death experiences multiple times,” you roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest, “will alcohol hurt us?”
“No, but it might turn you into an alcoholic, better not start with that, kid.” Hopper suddenly appears from behind, causing you to flinch.
Steve watches from the side, laughing at the wide eyed look on your face.
You turn to face the older man, scrunching up your nose when your eyes instantly fall on the beer in his hand, “oh, really? What’s that in your hand then, alcoholic?” You mock him.
Hopper shakes his head, chuckling.
“So that’s where El’s attitude has been coming from lately.”
“Told you, miss sunshine over here is a bad influence,” Steve jokes.
“Don’t know which attitude you’re talking about, I don’t have one.”
At that, both Steve and Hopper burst out laughing, the latter squeezes your shoulder as he walks past you, “you keep telling yourself that, kid.”
“Well, aren’t we celebrating something today?” You ask.
Hopper opens the fridge, taking out another beer after throwing the empty can into the trash. He looks at you with raised brows, a smile tugging at his lips.
None of you know what this celebration even is about, that you all got invited to – except for El, Jonathan and Will, of course. They know all about it.
“Yeah.”
“So… can’t celebrate without the drinks,” you shrug, giving him a sheepish smile.
You’re unaware of the smile on Steve’s lips as he watches you.
“You’re nineteen, wait two more years–”
“We fought interdimensional monsters, this one almost got strangled to death,” you point at Steve, “not to mention all the times he got his ass kicked–”
“You didn’t need to go there, Blondie,” he rolls his eyes.
“I almost died! A girl can have a drink, come on!”
Hopper sighs, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks between the two of you.
You are desperate for a drink, it’s been months since you had any alcohol in your system, and you’re craving the buzz, feeling careless and free. All you felt after the night at the Creel house was pain… and more pain. Your head was constantly hurting, your vision blurred every time you got up, the dizziness drove you crazy – it’s still there sometimes, but you feel better now, much better, good enough to have drinks again.
But the stubborn man won’t let you have it and you can already tell by the look on his face that he will say no. So, you pull out the big guns.
You smirk at him, tilting your head.
“My dad told me what you used to get up to in high school.”
He holds his hands up, squeezing his eyes shut in annoyance.
“Didn’t you and Joyce used to smoke pot behind–”
Steve’s eyes widen as his lips part in surprise.
“Get this demon a drink, Steve.” He waves his hand and quickly leaves the room, sending you another warning glance over his shoulder.
“Why me…” Steve mutters.
“Cause you’re maid material, chop chop, Harrington.”
He sighs, rolling his eyes again.
“Oh hey Hop, long time no see.” You hear Eddie’s voice in the living room, followed by Hopper’s groan.
If you weren’t so fixated on Steve right now, you’d be watching Eddie’s and Hopper’s interaction, right now. It’s never not amusing.
“You sure you want me to make you a drink?” He steps away from the counter and bends down to open the cabinet he saw Hopper putting the whiskey into earlier, he looks through the few bottles and reaches for the rum.
You watch the way he furrows his brows, licking his lips as stares at the bottle. He straightens his back and steps up beside you again.
“Well, didn’t you used to throw parties and mix cocktails?” You shrug, tilting your head to the side.
Steve watches you, the way your flashes flutter as you blink, the way you look at him so innocently, something that makes him feel… intrigued.
“I never got to taste it,” you pout.
He swallows harshly.
“I’m craving something sweet on my lips right now, so please… Can you make me a drink?” You ask with a sickly sweet tone in your voice, not intending these words to sound so… suggestive and you don’t even notice it either.
But he does, and he almost drops the bottle he is holding. Your flirty words make his eyes widen and his stomach flutters. It’s not the first time something like this happened, you threw suggestive words or glances at him before but all this time he was certain that you did this unintended – even now, because the look on your face is innocent, genuinely innocent.
You aren’t teasing, you aren’t even aware of how flirty you can be sometimes.
He turns away from you, walking over to the fridge, he grabs the pineapple juice and puts it on the counter next to the bottle of rum.
He looks up at the shelf, where all the long drink glasses are. How convenient it is that you’re standing right in front of it.
While you do everything unintended, he doesn’t. He knows what he is doing when he steps towards you. He looks down at you with that same innocent look that you just gave him, the only difference is that he isn’t innocent. He places his hand on your waist, testing the waters. “Excuse me,” he murmurs, squeezing your waist ever so softly. He reaches over your shoulder as he grabs the glass, he keeps his eyes on you, biting back the smirk when he sees the way your eyes widen and you visibly gulp.
Your lips part and you start blinking, looking up at him before your eyes fall to his chest and you squirm beneath his stare.
Got you. He thinks.
You stop breathing and your heart freaking jumps in your chest, his innocent touch is almost enough to make your knees buckle.
Despite the nervousness, you look into his eyes, watching the way they twinkle with mischief. Bastard. Is he doing this on purpose? Because he somehow knows that every slightest touch from him drives you crazy?
He takes way too long to get that stupid glass from the shelf but fuck, you can’t help but love the way his big hand feels on your body, or the way he is almost pressed against you, the way the smell of his cologne makes your stomach flutter.
And then, he steps away like nothing happened.
Because it was nothing… to him.
Even when there’s a hint of a smirk on his lips as he prepares the drink, you know that this was only because he wanted to get a reaction out of you.
“Here,” he slides the drink over to you, still smirking, “try it.”
You wrap your hand around the cold glass and take the straw between your fingers, stirring the ice around, furrowing your brows, “what’s this called?”
He crosses his arms over his chest, “the King Steve special,” he winks.
You scrunch your face up at him.
Wrapping your lips around the straw, you look into his eyes as you try it, the sweetness from the pineapple juice definitely overpowers the taste of rum, and you don’t know if you like it or not.
Steve ignores the way his stomach tingles from watching you – watching your glossy lips as they’re wrapped around the black straw.
“Jesus, that really is a high school drink, King Steve.”
He squints his eyes at you, “it’s a fucking drink, Blondie.”
“A horrible one at that.”
He places his hand on his hip, rolling his eyes at your words, but a smirk tugs at his lips and he suddenly leans closer to you to whisper in your ear.
“You really fooled me with that dress of yours… if only you kept your mouth shut.”
He wants to stay and keep staring at the shocked look on your face, at the way you grow so flustered beneath his stare. The smirk that lingers on his lips grows even wider when he sees the way your lips part but close again.
He left you speechless.
He reaches for the bowl of salad, “gonna bring this out,” he says, tilting his head into the direction of the garden, “they set up the table outside.”
You don’t even hear his words, you just stare at his lips before your eyes fall on the chain around his neck. You swallow and look down, hiding your flustered face as you take another sip of the drink.
Steve holds back the chuckle, he turns away begrudgingly and walks out, he would’ve loved to see more of that look on your face.
It takes you a moment to recover from whatever that was, you nearly down the King Steve Special in one go. And maybe preparing yourself a second drink is a mistake, knowing that you will probably feel more than just a slight buzz, you only had breakfast and you skipped lunch because you were too busy getting ready and stressing over your hair that never looks nearly as perfect as Steve’s does.
You step out into the backyard, the table on the porch is already filled with food and drinks, the smell of the Barbecue lingering in the air. Jonathan is standing in front of the grill with Nancy by his side, her chin on his shoulder, her arm wrapped around his waist, they’re talking and smiling at each other.
As you watch them, the sudden realization that you will never have anything like they do, fills you with a slight sadness.
You don’t envy them, you’re happy for them, you’re happy for anyone who gets to experience love. But maybe, you envy the love someone else still holds for her, someone you will never have.
You look down, frowning at your drink.
The teens all stumble out into the backyard as Joyce ushers them to the table.
You flinch a little when you suddenly feel an arm around your shoulder, instantly recognizing Eddie’s cologne, you turn your head to look at him.
“This could be us if you weren’t such a gremlin,” he says as he points to Jonathan and Nancy who are now kissing, in front of the sizzling meat that is probably now burning.
You squint your eyes, shaking your head disapprovingly.
You know he’s only joking, and it fills you with relief, because as much as you crave what they have, you definitely don’t crave it with Eddie. You crave to have this with Steve, and it’s something you feel stupid for. The guy may not hate your guts anymore, but he’s surely not your biggest fan either.
“You know, you’re a gremlin too, Eds.”
“That’s why we’re best friends,” he chuckles, patting your shoulder as he looks down at the drink in your hand, “what’s that?”
“King Steve Special,” you snort, offering it to him, “well, this one was made by me.”
“Can I try?”
You hand it to him, and his curious eyes widen when he takes a sip, “wow, that is uh–”
“Too sweet?”
He shakes his head at you, curls bouncing, “nah, it’s perfect.”
“Well, you can have it, I might get drunk if I finish that.”
“Already!?” He scoffs, shaking his head at you, “lightweight.”
"Uh, excuse me? I haven’t had any drinks in months, Eddie. Months.”
“Well, I haven’t had any in weeks, I’m still standing.”
“You only took one sip!”
He takes another sip and grins at you, holding up two fingers.
“Two sips.”
You can’t even help but laugh, slapping his shoulder lightly, “you are so–”
“Funny? Handsome? Perfect?”
“Too cocky?” Lucas says behind Eddie, grinning at him.
“Me and cocky?” Eddie raises his brows, “never.”
“Oh no, that kid is right, boy. You’re cocky,” Hopper sighs, “trust me.”
“Well, I am also very fast, Chief,” he smirks, winking at the older man, “but you already know that.”
Hopper’s amused face grows serious, a hardened look takes over and he grumbles something under his breath as he stares at Eddie. You can’t even help but giggle. – A sound that doesn’t go unheard by Steve who just sat down across from Robin, not even hiding the fact that he no longer listens to her rambling about some movie she watched with Vickie last night. All he can do, all he can see, all he can hear right now is you, just you.
The sound of your giggles is not something he is used to – he is used to your grumbling, to your sarcastic chuckles and the smirks on your face. A giggle? A very unusual sound to hear but something that he’s been hearing quite often lately. If your friendship with Eddie wasn’t so obvious, he might’ve thought that you took a liking towards him, but it’s clear that your friendship with him is just like his with Robin; Platonic with a capital P.
He can’t help but smile as he watches you, not because he likes you, god no. He just likes watching you. You are pretty, gorgeous even. He always knew that, even through his dislike, he always saw your beauty – he isn’t blind. And seeing you like this makes his chest feel… warm.
He eyes your dress again, the lace on the straps lay so prettily on your shoulders, the silky material fitting your upper body so perfectly, it’s loose on your hips, and it’s short, not too short but enough to make him gulp.
The chair scrapes against the floor, but even that sound doesn’t tear his attention away from you.
Nancy steps up beside you, exchanging a few words with you and Eddie before she turns her head into Steve’s direction, she lifts her hand and points at him, something that instantly makes Steve tense up, because not only did Eddie catch him staring at you, you did too.
With his cheeks blushing red, he clears his throat and turns back to Robin who is now rambling Dustin’s ear off. He places his elbow on the armrest, running his fingers through his hair nervously.
What is wrong with him? Since when does he spend time staring at you? Since when does he blush because of you?
“Here you can sit next to your favorite person, gremlin.”
He doesn’t know who he expected to sit down beside him, but he surely didn’t think it’d be you. He goes to lift his head when you pull back the chair. Just as he’s about to glance at you, he suddenly feels your hand on his knee and hears your groan as you stumble forward a little.
“Almost broke my ankle, for fucks sake. I’m sorry, Lego head,” you mumble, inwardly cursing at yourself for tripping over the stupid leg chair and using him to steady yourself. You remove your hand when you finally sit down, turning away from him to hide the flustered look on your face.
He blinks, swallowing the lump in his throat, he plasters a smirk on his face, “are you drunk from that one drink, Blondie?” He chuckles, watching the way you roll your eyes at his question.
You feel a slight buzz, but you’re not sure whether it’s because of the alcohol or his ‘flirty’ comment that certainly had no meaning.
Steve loves to flirt and he does it every chance he gets but he definitely wouldn’t flirt with you, no matter how desperate he’d be, you’d never be good enough for Steve Harrington.
When everyone is finally seated and the rest of the food is now on the table, Hopper is standing up with a drink in his hand, waiting for the teen boys to stop talking so he can finally open his mouth to speak. He tries to be patient, he really tries.
Joyce looks down in amusement.
Jonathan waves at Dustin, trying to shut him up, but the boy doesn’t see, too focused on the conversation with Mike.
“Mike,” El whispers, nudging him with her elbow.
He looks away from Dustin, and turns to look at his girlfriend when his eyes find Hopper glaring at him with that very intimidating look on his face.
His face grows pale and he slowly leans back in his seat, punching Dustin in the arm to shut up.
Hopper clears his throat, he puts his hand on the back of his neck, squinting his eyes a little. It’s silent now, except for the faint music that still plays in the living room. His throat bobbed as he looked around the table.
You can tell that he struggles to find his words, by the note that sticks out of the pocket in his flannel, you can tell that he had already prepared a speech.
Joyce gives him an encouraging nod as she reaches for his hand.
“I uh– I just, I thought that it would be a great idea for us all to sit down and uh… chat. I’m not good at all of this so I’ll just jump straight into it,” he starts, chuckling at his own words, before seriousness takes over his features again, “you kids went through a lot, you went through too much, every single one of you. But you were all so brave, you stuck together and defeated that… son of a bitch.”
Giggles erupt around him and his lip twitches a little.
“We defeated him,” El says, smiling at her dad, “we defeated that son of a bitch, “together.”
“Language, kid,” Hopper chuckles but he shakes his head at her, “but yeah, together.”
“The past few years haven’t been easy for any of you,” he continues, looking at all the young teens, at his daughter, at Jonathan and Nancy but also at Robin and Steve, and then he looks between you and Eddie too. “You all lost something or someone, you shouldn’t know what it’s like but uh, I guess in all of this chaos, you all found each other and I-I think that’s, that’s something, that means a lot.”
You can tell that he is struggling to say these words out loud, you hear the shakiness in his voice, the way he is holding himself together, the way he is speaking so softly because of how emotional he is after he spent the past few years in darkness after losing people he loved.
El and Joyce stepped into his life and so much chaos followed when he was dragged into a mess he had only seen in movies before, but it also brought him so much light and happiness again.
Just like it did for you and you wouldn’t change a thing about it.
If you had to go back and relive all the awful things you had to endure those few weeks back, you would’ve done it in a heartbeat. Because, despite the horrors and the darkness you had been pulled into, you have found friends, a family. You found a best friend again, Eddie who sits across from you, smiling at you because he too, found a best friend in you.
And you and Steve, you aren’t close by any means, but you are happy to have him in your life now, even if only like this.
“And I, I found a family and my uh beautiful soon to be wife.”
It takes a moment for the words to sink in.
It takes another moment for everyone to lose their calmness.
When the soft smiles vanish and the shocked and surprised looks take over your faces, Joyce and Hopper can’t help but laugh.
“W-Wait what!?” Dustin shrieks, “you’re getting married!?”
“Yep,” Hopper nods, smiling proudly.
El is smiling excitedly, clapping her hands together, like she is relieved that it’s no longer a secret, “and I can’t wait for the wedding!”
Nancy and Jonathan laugh at her excitement, while Dustin still looks between the older couple.
You glance at Eddie, who is staring at Hopper like he wants to say something but he bites his tongue, not wanting to ruin the sweet moment with one of his jokes.
“And we want you all to be there,” Hopper nods with a small smile on his face, “it wasn’t my idea to invite you all, just so you know.”
Everyone laughs at his words and the fake grumpy look on his face, by now you all know that the former Chief isn’t as mean and cold as everyone always knew him to be.
“It was his idea,” Joyce smiles, cheekily.
“Of course it was, he loves us!” Dustin grins at Hopper.
“Well, congrats,” Robin smiles brightly, “I can’t believe you’re inviting a bunch of kids but hey, I’m excited!”
Joyce gives her a warm smile, while Hopper grumbles something under his breath as he looks between Dustin and Mike.
After all the congratulations go around, Hopper finally takes a seat, pointing at all the food on the table, including the few pieces of chicken that Jonathan had burned because he was too busy making out with Nancy, telling you all to finally ‘dig in’.
The conversations flow easily between everyone and it feels familiar despite being new to this circle.
And while you and Steve don’t really talk to each other, you feel his eyes on you every once in a while. You feel his arm brushing against yours, his hands grazing your knuckles whenever he reaches for his drink – and every slightest touch shoots electricity through your veins and your heart beats a little faster every time his skin touches yours.
You curse at yourself for feeling so weak for him, for almost crumbling after only these small and very innocent touches, for liking someone who spent most of his life hating you.
You spend the rest of the night avoiding him, trying to lean away, trying to look at anyone but at him. And even then, you can still feel his eyes on you and it’s driving you crazy and you suddenly can’t wait to get away from him so you can finally breathe and stop feeling so delusional – his comment, his touches, his glances are all getting too much. If he was someone else, you would think that he was flirting but he is Steve Harrington for god's sake, and he would never flirt, not with you.
You feel relief rushing through your whole body when hours later, Eddie announces that he is going home, you almost jump up and bolt towards the door but your best friend seems to have other plans.
With his hands on your shoulder and an apologetic smile on his face, he opens his mouth, “Buckley is driving my car tonight, I wouldn’t want to put you in danger, sorry sweets, you’re with Harrington tonight. Don’t worry, you’ll be in good hands.” He winks and pinches your cheek before he scurries away.
Robin follows him, winking at you as she walks out with Eddie’s car keys, and the teens following her.
Max gives you a sheepish smile, mouthing a ‘sorry’ before she walks out, as well, leaving you standing in the hallway.
What the hell.
You have been waiting to get away from him, now you’re forced to drive home with Steve? No. Just the thought of being alone with him makes you feel nervous.
You look around the empty hallway, you already said your goodbyes to everyone and no one will care how or who you went home with. You can just walk home… by yourself, and you won’t have to suffer through another car ride with Steve.
But as you reach for the knob, the sound of keys jingling stops you from opening the door. You close your eyes, clenching your jaw. You don’t have to look to know who it is.
“Running away from me?” Steve asks.
You look over your shoulder, meeting his eyes and the smirk on his face. Hazel eyes glowing beneath the dim lights.
“Come on, Blondie,” he murmurs, eyeing you up and down as he steps up behind you, placing his hand over yours so he can open the door.
His hand touches yours. His hand envelopes yours fully. His chest is almost pressed against your back. Your heart flutters and your knees almost buckle for real, this time.
His lip twitches and he licks them as he looks down at you.
You tear your eyes away from him when he opens the door. You quickly step out and breathe in the fresh night air, hoping that it will calm your racing heart.
“I-I didn’t know you’d be my ride tonight.”
Steve watches the way your dress sways as you walk down the porch steps. Fuck. He clears his throat, but feels unable to look away as he follows you. You don’t even look back at him, not until you’re standing next to his car and giving him a very annoyed look.
“Is that a problem for you?”
“Maybe.”
He shakes his head with a chuckle as he unlocks his car.
“Get your ass in the car, Blondie.”
Steve doesn’t know what it is about you today, but everything you do, everything you say drives him crazy. That cheeky smile that you throw at him as you open the door, the way you tilt your head as you lick your upper lip before you say “yes, sir.” Has him clenching his jaw.
He looks up into the night sky, taking a deep breath before he gets in the car.
He tries not to look at you, but it’s hard not to when he for some reason feels some sort of electric pull towards you tonight.
He starts the car and pulls out of the driveway without another word.
Neither of you speak on the drive home but Steve can’t help but steal glances, while you are completely unaware of it, just like you’re unaware of how much your dress rode up, not enough to reveal too much but enough to make him sweat.
Steve is under your spell tonight and you don’t even know it.
The drive to your house is too short for his liking and unlike him, who seems to be eager to spend more time with you tonight, you seem like you can’t wait to jump out of the car and get away from him.
You open the door, mumbling a ‘thanks for the ride.’
“You know, I really didn’t think that you could dress like that, Blondie.” He says, intending those words to sound… flirty.
A laugh falls from your lips because of how absurd this is. He didn’t think you looked cute, he probably thinks you dress too feminine for the attitude you have towards him, that’s all. This new kind of teasing is hurting you, but you can’t say anything about it to him, you can’t say that this hurts you, that it’s making you go insane. He would ask why, and you would have no excuse. You can’t face rejection, at least not right now… So you play along.
“Careful, Lego head. You’ll give me the wrong idea and make me think that you have a crush on me or something,” you joke with words he said to you not too long ago. You throw a wink at him and shut the door before he can even open his mouth to say something.
With his hand on the steering wheel and his eyes still stuck on you, he breathes heavily, his heart pounding and his cheeks burning as he slowly comes down from whatever high he had been on all day.
He swallows harshly, but his heart fucking flutters when he can smell your perfume that still lingers.
He watches you disappear into your house and shutting the door without giving him another glance or something.
He slumps back in his seat, throwing his hand into his hair, he runs his fingers through it as all the events come rushing to him.
The teasing, the touches, the… flirting.
Steve is stunned by his own actions, by how he acted towards you today – something that you were very unaware of, something that he is now glad about… Yet, he can’t help but feel a little disappointed that you didn’t notice the teasing.
He doesn’t even know where it all came from but he blames it on his desperation to feel something again, something that he had been craving for so long.
He was guided by lust, not by interest.
Because in no way, would he ever be interested in you.
All he saw today was a pretty girl in a pretty dress, it didn’t matter that it was you. He just needed to feel something, and he did… by teasing you.
But it’s something that will never happen again.
He swears, it will never happen again.
♡
tagging friends and mutuals
@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @maroon-cardigan @munsonlore @munson-mjstan @sherrylyn628 @ibellcipem
I'm sorry if I forgot anyone again (I'm the worst at taglists)
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington angst#steve harrington fluff#stranger things angst
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He's Gonna Save Me, Call Me 'Baby'
wc: 1.1k | Rated: T for alcohol consumption (not excessive) | cw: post-breakup, angst with a hopeful ending
Tags: Future Fic (mid-90s), Post Stancy Breakup, Steve Harrington Angst, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Platonic Stobin, Jeff (Stranger Things), Eddie Munson, Corroded Coffin, Implied Future Steddie (only bc the end is a little vague)
Written for the @strangerthingswritersguild Hozier Project. I chose the song, 'Jackie and Wilson'. Thank you soooo much to @subbaculture for setting up this event and making the banner!
(Read on ao3)
“Look alive, Dingus.”
Robin turns around to Steve and pats him square in the chest. He perks up, even though his best friend turns straight back to the entryway of The Hideout to wave at Jeff. He thinks it would be easier if Robin’s head were on a literal swivel with the way she has been whipping back and forth for the past hour.
Steve grumbles into his beer, pushing through the burn in his throat that still lingers years later as he laments the lack of Eddie following behind his bandmate.
He knows they had arrived too early for Corroded Coffin’s show, but Robin’s summer break from teaching came just in time – sue him for needing to spend every possible moment with his best friend.
Though he’d decided as soon as Robin announced her return to Hawkins that he wouldn’t mention the flowers he ripped up in haste in the back garden last week.
He’d done so straight after arriving home from the real estate agent, head hung in shame as he fully accepted yet another hard thunk on the head courtesy of Nancy Wheeler.
Well, it wasn’t so much a thunk this time as it was what Steve might consider, ‘divine intervention’.
He was in the backyard, tending to his small and still very much intact flower garden when a piece of guttering fell clean from the house, smashing through the window of the spare bedroom Nancy was using as her office – a room they’d falsely promised each other would be used for an entirely different reason.
But, much like his childhood home (which endured a mighty crack right through that cursed goddamn pool during Spring Break of ‘86), Steve found himself existing in a not-so-perfect house. One that grew increasingly cold as years of Upside Down dust and fog and smoke cooled Hawkins’s atmosphere.
A house that, with a broken and rusted gutter pipe, decided to remind them that shouldn’t – couldn’t – be playing house.
That’s all it really was: a pretend white picket fence dream that isn’t what Steve had meant by his vision of vacationing with a brood of Harringtons, Nancy by his side.
A dream that Nancy never wanted and got dragged into until her office window smashed in.
A dream that Steve thought was dead and buried the day Nancy rightfully picked through shards of glass for her things and left.
Buried until Eddie called him, saying that he had been talking to Robin (because of course, they kept tabs on him). He said the band would be back in town and that Steve and Robin should meet them.
And so, with a few beers warming his belly, burning his throat and sending a prickling sensation up his scar-covered sides, Steve found that nagging hope bubble up again.
He shakes his head, scoffing at his hopeless self as the sound of rhythm and blues music over the bar’s jukebox almost drowns out Jeff’s and Robin’s chattering.
Maybe he should be talking himself out of it. Finally acknowledging that years-old fleeting something between him and Eddie.
But he wants it.
And Lord knows he acts on a mere fleeting feeling.
Maybe history won’t repeat itself this time. Maybe the rusted gutter was one last divine thunk.
Maybe it won’t just be a first date. Or meaningless sex. Or bullshit.
He should have known that love with Nancy – a love long sucked down his old pool drain along with Barb Holland’s life – couldn’t prosper in the aftermath of an almost apocalypse.
They thought they were supposed to try, is the thing.
Staying in Hawkins. Keeping things at bay. Watching. Perhaps waiting for it all to come back.
But then it didn’t.
It all just lingered.
And they were left to pick up the pieces.
Right mistakes.
Move on.
They just didn’t need to do it together.
Steve pivots on his barstool, leaning an elbow on the bar top to get a better (hopefully seemingly more casual) view of the entryway.
He has seen Eddie over the years. Every Christmas at the Hendersons, sporadic visits home, a phone call here and there. The band hadn’t exactly made it big – at all, really. But they made enough to move around. Tour. Always returning to The Hideout for a one-off Tuesday Night gig as if nothing changed.
Steve looks around, thinking there might be three more drunks than the last show –
And there he is.
Eddie enters the bar with Gareth and George in tow and Steve swears a summer breeze flows in with him.
He looks good. Leather-clad as always. Pants impossibly tight. Jacket chains jangling. His hair still a river of wild curls.
But Steve sinks back on his seat as the trio makes a beeline for the stage, Eddie’s bright eyes turning into a dark frown as he orders the boys about, barely carrying a thing himself.
He probably had some theatrical excuse about his outfit, punctuated by manic hand gestures and a pout or two.
Steve watches as they dump their equipment by the one-step platform, each maneuver creating cacophonous thuds that reverberate through the bar. Jeff grimaces at the sight before shooting an apologetic glance at the manager and barkeep. The boys always did saddle him with sweet-talking the staff.
“Someone’s eager,” Robin teases, catching Steve’s smirk.
Jeff quirks a brow and stifles a smile.
“Shut up,” Steve chuckles into his glass before he downs the last of his beer.
“Eddie is really excited to see you, man,” Jeff nods, offering a nonchalant shrug just as Eddie begins making his way towards them.
Steve’s heart quickens.
There’s that something.
A something that is reflected in the glint in Eddie’s eyes as he smiles wide and waves.
Steve wiggles his fingers in greeting, shaking his head at himself almost instantly causing a lock of his hair to flop out of place.
George not-at-all subtly drags Gareth in Jeff’s direction.
“Over here, Gare,” Robin commands loudly through gritted teeth.
“Hey, Steve,” Eddie says, his voice low as he steps forward to stand just close enough that yeah, Steve decides to roll with that hope again.
He reaches up to comb a hand through his hair but Eddie gets there first.
“Sucks about Wheeler, babydoll,” Eddie continues, allowing his fingers to scrape his scalp, carefully looking him over as he does so.
Eddie always is too much.
Everything.
A lot. All at once.
Seeing him.
Steve hums and Eddie soon stops, an embarrassed set of dimples dotting his cheeks as he likely thinks better of it given their current location.
“It was... all a mistake,” Steve admits, taking Eddie’s retreating hand.
He intertwines ring-adorned fingers with his own, refusing to let go of the hope tethering them, ready to start again.
#okay so this one is really different for me and... idk how i feel about it tbh 😅#steve harrington#steve harrington angst#stancy#steddie#stranger things#lily writes a fic#stwg#steve harrington fanfic#stwghozierproject#tw alcohol
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Better man (E.M)
Warning(s); mentions of the stancy break up,Eddie being a fool in love, physical fighting,possessive Eddie,heart break,kinda asshole Steve? Not really though,kissing.
Pairing(s); Eddie Munson x (Afab) Fem! Reader.
Summary; Eddie’s been fighting for you to see it all along, he’s the better man.
A/n; please know this is by no means how I truly feel abt the two of them?? it’s fictional and I’m not saying Eddie is better then Steve. Thank you<3
Hi we are pretending Steve was in his senior year when dustin was a freshman, thank you! :)
Your lungs were burning,you felt your heart thumping in your chest,your eyes stung from built up tears. Your legs felt wobbly, like they’d give out any second if possible. This wasn’t how you planned for the night to end.
You had been cheering since freshman year and it was one of your favorite things. You made friends easily due to your bubbly and happy attitude. You could have any guy you wanted in the whole school but the only person you wanted was Steve Harrington. While plenty of guys tried their luck your eyes were set on Steve and only Steve.
“You know, if you keep staring your eyes’ll fall right out” you smiled and smacked Eddie’s arm. “They will not! Shut up!” “What’s got you so infatuated anyway? You know I’m right here!” You rolled your eyes and finally pulled them away from Steve. Bringing your eyes to settle on your friend he was grinning at you “what exactly do you have to offer Mr, Munson?” You played along.
“What don’t I have to offer?” He rebutdtaled and you just shook your head smiling. “He hasn’t even had a girlfriend since nancy wheeler I don’t see why you even try” Eddie sighed. “Because he’s sweet, and he cares for people…and he thinks I’m pretty” Eddie rolled his eyes faking a gag. “You’ll just end up hurt, princess”
God, if only you’d listen to him. If only you didn’t spend the last 7 months of you’re life wasted on Steve.
You always scanned the bleachers for him because he was always there. You smiled widely your chest heaving after the routine but your smile fell the second your eyes landed on Steve making out with Nancy.
Eddie watched your eyes lock into something behind him and when he glanced back he saw exactly what he didn’t want to. He was gonna kill him. “Shit.” He muttered and pulled himself over the small wall covering the bleachers. Eddie ran across the field towards you it was like he felt he couldn’t get there fast enough, but he didn’t just in time.
Your legs gave out and you fell landing in Eddie’s arms as your eyes finally dropped to the grass in front of you. The screams and cheers behind you were muffled so was Eddie’s voice. You felt like your world was crashing down around you. The ringing in your ears died down and the tears were now spilling down your face, not only was Eddie there but now so was the rest of them. Gareth,Jeff,bradlee, they were all on the field next to you, your other cheer mates coming to make sure you were okay.
You dropped the green and white tassels and turned to wrap your arms around Eddie’s neck hiding your head into his shoulder. “Alright, let’s go.” Eddie bent down and lifted your legs up your shoes clapping together as he settled you in his arms.
Steve was confused when their were gasps around him, pulling away from Nancy he looked out to see Eddie Munson carrying you off the field. Meanwhile your friends all looked worried as hell “sorry nanc h-hold on” Steve jumped over steps until he was able to reach the end.
“Is she okay? What happened” “fuck off Harrington” Gareth huffed “she doesn’t wanna see you.” Steve furrowed his brows and tried to push past Gareth but he was quick to push him back. “I said fuck off.” He repeated and eyed him before turning to follow after you and Eddie.
It had been days. You hadn’t been to school, Steve was worried. No one would tell him what happened, not even your teammates.
Steve stood next to the table waiting for them to come, he was gonna get his Fucking answers one way or another.
The second Eddie saw him waiting he sighed walking over “if you’re after your little friend, he’s skipping lunch” Steve huffed out a laugh. “I’m not here for dustin and you know that.” Eddie shrugged and sat down. “What happened Friday? Why hasn’t she been to school? Is she okay?” Eddie didn’t reply just ignored him and started to eat his pretzels.
Steve huffed and slammed his hands on the table the boom bringing most peoples attention. “What the fuck is your problem??” Steve huffed and Eddie just stared at him and shrugged again before going back to eating. “You’re making a scene” Eddie mumbled and Steve rolled his eyes “I don’t give a fuck! Let them stare! She’s my friend and I’m worried!” Eddie barked out a laughs.
“Friend? That’s a strong word” Eddie still refused to look up from his tray of food. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Eddie sighed and shoved his tray away “seemed to have lost my appetite” with that he left the lunch room.
2 more days passed and Steve had heard nothing, now, now he was just pissed off. He wasn’t gonna be nice or collected. He waited for the 2pm bell to ring and for Eddie to head towards the drama club room. Steve met him and this time Steve grabbed the collar of Eddie’s Queen shirt and shoved him against lockers.
“I want answers, freak.” Eddie eyed him but didn’t say anything. There was a small crowd waiting to see if Eddie was gonna throw a punch. They weren’t expecting you to.
You punched Steve right across the jaw and he let go of Eddie. “Don’t touch him.” You huffed and turned to Eddie who was fixing his shirt. Your hands held his face “you alright?” Eddie nodded. “Fine, thank you.” Steve looked shocked to see you at school, it had been nearly a week.
“Alright! Shows over off you go” you yelled waving the crowd away. “Where have you been!” Steve reached out grabbing a hold of your arm. Now, Eddie reacted. He gripped Steve wrist and jerked his hand away from you pulling you to his side. “Hands off, Harrington.” He stated calmly.
“I was worried.” Steve said and you shrugged “good for you, I don’t care” Steve stared at you. The light he used to see was gone, the bubbly happy nature was gone. What happened to you? Where’d the happy girl go? Who hurt you?
“Why weren’t you at school?” You shrugged “I was out of town with my dad. You can call the office if you don’t believe me ‘King Steve’” you grabbed a hold of Eddie’s hand and pulled him with you down the hall. “Wait- what..what happened? Why’re you so…” “cold?” You finished his sentence. “It’s what happens when you get your heart broke Steve, figured you’d know that. Make sure you keep your pretty girlfriend away from parties.” Eddie dropped your hand and wrapped his arm around your shoulders.
The second the drama door closed eddie tugged you to his chest as you let tears fall. “I know baby, I know. It’s okay.” He rubbed your back in a soft comforting way. “Here, sit down” he lifted you into his throne and crouched down to wipe at your tears. “It’s okay. He’s gone he’s not here baby. Can’t hurt you” you hiccuped as more tears fell. “It’s really bad, Ed’s hurts” Eddie tried his best to put on a heartfelt smile “it’ll get better and then you’ll go back to cheer and have your friends back. Don’t you have a beach trip coming up? that’ll be fun!” You nodded.
“Y-yeah, it’ll…it’ll all get better” Eddie nodded and watched you sniffle before your lip quivered again. “Sweetheart, you poor thing.” The tears started right back the second they stopped harder then before.
Eddie wanted to fix it, make it better for you. He’d do anything in this whole world to just see you smile again. He never realized how badly he could miss it. You didn’t deserve this.
However the next day at school steve sat down at Eddie’s table. “What?” Eddie questioned “you gonna tell me who hurt her?” Eddie let out a laugh “why? What’re you gonna do swing and miss?” Steve ignored the jab “tell me who hurt her.” He demanded and Eddie stopped his chuckling. “Alright, big boy go look in the Fucking mirror then.” Steve narrowed his eyes at Eddie.
“Yeah, you. You’re the one who hurt her.” “Me! How’d I hurt her?” “Oh my god you really are a clueless idiot aren’t you?” Eddie sighed. “She was in love with you idiot. She used to stare at you for hours, spend days planning what to wear in hopes you’d find her cute, could talk for hours about your favorite things and get every fucking one right.” Eddie stood up. He leaned over the table hands splayed while he got next to Steve’s face.
“But you, you didn’t pay her a second glance. Bet you didn’t even know her favorite color,can’t tell me 3 of her favorite things,you don’t even know her dogs name or why she hates the color grey,couldn’t even tell me when you two first met. It’s rich for you to call her your friend because you don’t know a damn thing other then her name.” “That’s not true!” Steve defended and Eddie scoffed “it is Steve. Try just try to name those things I listed off”
Steve tried multiple times but his mind was blank, Eddie stood up and crossed his arms. He didn’t know you’d entered the lunch room nor that you stood there and listened as he answered every single thing correct.
“You don’t know shit about that girl. You didn’t care, no you knew it was your fault that’s why you felt bad,guilty. That’s why you were so focused to know the truth because you didn’t want the answer to be you but it was. It is.” Eddie sighed and leaned over again “so, go and kiss your little girlfriend and keep away from her, because I swear on any fucking God that existed if you try to touch her again I’ll punch you so hard your forget your damn name.”
Eddie stood back up and turned around to see you standing there. You blinked at him. He blinked at you. You walked over to him and he stood frozen, you sat your hands on his chest and nudged his nose with yours gently before you placed a soft kiss to his lips.
Time stops for Eddie it’s like everything around him doesn’t exist anymore. Just you, just him, just the two of you in his own little world.
You pull away from him and Eddie blinks down at you “what…what was that?” You smiled and Eddie saw that spark light back up in your eyes. “A kiss, I kissed you.” Eddie nodded “yeah, yeah okay” you smiled at his hazed smile and pecked his lips again. “You wanna go?” You asked and Eddie nodded “yeah, yeah okay” you giggled harder and took his hand pulling him along.
#eddie munson#fem reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x you#steve harrington x nancy wheeler#steve harrington angst
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•*⁀➷ ❝ 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐖. ❞✭・.✫・
supernovafics!
✭•*⁀➷ an ex-childhood best friends steve harrington series inspired by the song “afterglow” by taylor swift ·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
in which you move to hawkins during the summer of ‘79 and from the moment you meet your next-door neighbor, steve harrington, you two are inseparable. from pool days to movie nights to christmas traditions spent in the playground in your backyard, it seemed as if there was absolutely nothing that could pull you two apart, even with the changes you both went through during high school. however, then there is always that age-old cliche of “falling for your best friend” that brings about unexpected and seemingly one-sided feelings. and it is also the catalyst for one moment that changes absolutely everything between you and steve. and then you move away, and for nearly two years there is nothing but radio silence between you two. things are completely different from how they used to be, but maybe some letters filled entirely with brutal honesty can change that. because yes, it’s been years since you both talked, but are things truly beyond repair for you two?
warnings: childhood best friends to strangers, set post-season four but a lot of references to steve from past seasons, mentions of stancy, (assumed) unrequited love, explicit language, a lot of angst, some fluff, besties being besties, two idiots in love, soft!steve, insecure!steve, specific warnings will be tagged per part
total wc: 16k
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
❝letter zero (intro)❞
❝letter one❞
❝letter two❞
❝letter three❞
❝letter four❞
❝letter five❞
❝letter six❞
❝letter seven❞
❝letter eight❞
❝steve’s response❞
❝phone call❞
❝california❞
#steve harrington fic#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington series#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington one shot#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x you#stranger things fic#stranger things fluff#stranger things imagine
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It was also so ooc for Robin to want to be friends so badly with Nancy in s4. Plus her encouraging Stancy to get back together? Whoever this person was, it was not my Robin. Like s3 Robin would be wtf are you doing girl. Because let's be real she hated Steve for years because her crush only had eyes for him. How would she not have a grudge for the girl who hurt her person, her bff??? It doesn't matter if Steve never bitched about Nancy or that he would only say positive stuff about her, Robin still sees that her bff is hurting. And with the cheating rumors going around, Robin is smart and can connect the dots.
R/nance doesn't even make much sense as a friendship. I absolutely loved your take on one sided R/nance when Nancy was questioning why Robin didn't really want to hang out with her or preferred the group. And then when Robin told her it's because of Steve and how Nancy never really reflected her wrong doings because it's been so long, that was so good. Because again realistically Robin wouldn't want to hang out with people if it hurts her bestie. Like you said they share everything, Robin would have to limit herself, she couldn't talk as openly about her relationship with Nancy to Steve because it's awkward and over time I think she would conclude that's simply not worth it. Her relationship with Steve is more important to her.
In s4 Nancy should have been the one to make it up to Robin, not Robin begging for Nancy's attention. It would allow Nancy to finally get some character growth and her reflecting on past behavior would also introduce Stancy in a more natural way other than "oh hey Steve, Jonathan is not here, btw you are hot". She basically gets everything handed to her without any work (when it comes to her personal life, I'm not saying she doesn't work hard when it comes to other stuff). Like Robin immediately wants to be besties and Steve still worships the ground she works on, there are never consequences for her hurtful actions and thus no growth as an individual. Like Nancy as a character is still the same as she was in s2, she never reflects on her behavior because the narrative lets her off the hook so she doesn't really have to apologize for anything . It would have been so interesting if Robin was cold to her in the beginning as she was with Steve, maybe even a bit colder.
I think that just because Robin is not good at reading people in the moment, she still is able to make those connections later. Plus, after the first few weeks after Starcourt growing pains between stobin, Steve is probably the one person she knows she can read with accuracy (both because she now knows him, and because he allows himself to be vulnerable in front of her). So what with Steve's guilt/martyr complex and all the rumours that must have followed at school the week after halloween, regardless of Steve brushing them off and probably actively denying that Nancy cheated (literally he doesn't know she did. no one who knows would tell him, and he blames himself openly for the end of their relationship), she'd probably piece together that Nancy did a number on his heart. So I would have liked to see Robin giving Nancy more of a side-eye in S4, especially if her and Steve were getting a bit flirty. Tbh I know I've mentioned it before, but the only reasonable explanation for Steve making not just eyes but flirting with Nancy, is that somewhere along the line, Steve and Robin got it in their heads that Jon and Nancy had broken up (hence Nancy not going to cali with mike). Because we know so little about Steve's parents, but we do know his dad cheats and Steve knows about it and is extremely sensitive to infidelity. I could maybe see him tell Nancy he still had feelings for her before fighting vecna, to get it off his chest before potentially dying, even if he knew she was still with Jon, but not the other stuff. Literally would not make sense for one of the most defining and pivotal traits he's had since s1, or for robin to encourage it.
ooo. yeah I agree. I guess the one-sided rnce post really was attempting to explore a situation that makes Nancy realize that her actions have impacts on people she potentially cares about that cannot be unaddressed. There's a through-line in the show of Nancy's actions, regardless of what they are, as being completely justified and right. So when her and Jon fight in s3, she never has to actually address her part and classism in it. (they were both wrong!! Both of them should have apologized!) In s2, when Steve does reasonable not-wanting-to-get-disappeared things, the narrative treats him like he's a bad boyfriend for being unsupportive. When Nancy cheats on him, TPTB retcon it by saying they broke up at the party or in the alley, removing any guilt for Nancy's actions. For her interpersonal relationships, we don't see Nancy putting much work or effort into them. Hell, we see steve apologize immediately for threatening Dustin's teeth when he was getting frustrated and said he went too far. And Lucas apologizes to Will in s3 too. So the show can show us friends putting in effort to not leave each other hurt. It would be neat to see Nancy actively trying in her relationships. Apologizing or opening up a conversation or something. idk.
I think there was some potential for an interesting friendship between Robin and Nancy. But yes Robin deserved to be a bit wary of Nancy! I can see Robin trying to be her friend a little bit after starcourt, attempting to put Barb leaving her for Nancy behind her, but Nancy not really being open to it so it sort of soured Robin to her. And then in s4 when the Upside Down is back Nancy trying to be Robin's friend and robin, having been burned by Nancy before, is now suspicious of why she suddenly wants to be friends now. That would have been such a fun dynamic to have! Like Nancy being kind of jealous of steve and robin's friendship both for her wanting to have a friends, and possibly, if they were still going with it for whatever reason, for her romantic interest in steve. And Robin being protective of both her own and Steve's hearts from Nancy! neat!
Post s4... yeah. I don't see Nancy actively wanting to be friends with the other people who fight the Upside Down. like, sure maybe she'll exchange numbers and split a bottle of wine with the older teens, but she wouldn't be cuddly call-after-nightmare friends with them. Not just because of personalities, but because I think she'd want to put everything to do with Hawkins behind her and look to her future.
We see her only stay in contact with the person she is dating, and not really anyone else. Like. in s3 we see Steve have connections with the Party and after that with Robin, but only see Nancy with her boyfriend. I think it's really important for Nancy to have an arc that isn't about romance, or about her guilt about Barb. or at least, not her unresolved and continuing guilt about barb. It could be about her moving forward and having close friendships again despite that guilt. But at this point, I don't think could happen, as it would require more groundwork than the show can afford to give to it this late in the series. I just want her to end the series single, ready for uni and moving on from what happened. I want her to be free of Hawkins, in a way she cannot be if she's dating anyone involved with the Upside Down, especially when any of her three popular ships are all hung up on the town or the people in it in a way she doesn't seem to be.
#robin buckley#nancy wheeler#stranger things#stranger things meta#anti ronance#findaanswers#anonasaurus#finda's rambles
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How Soon Is Now?
Pairing: Steve Harrington/GN Reader
Wordcount: 8.2k
Summary: Over the course of eight months, Steve finds himself falling in love.
Category: Fluff
Warnings: language, implied AFAB!Reader, lightly implied nudity, some hurt/comfort, reader gets kissed on a date and isn’t entirely thrilled about it, light Stancy mentions, implied Neurodivergent!Reader
Notes: I’ve been writing this for three weeks now, it’s become much longer than I anticipated. Happy Volume 2 Eve, everyone.
----
Dustin Henderson’s instructions had been very specific. On December 15th, the night of the Snow Ball, Steve was to pick him up at eight-thirty. Not eight-twenty-nine, not eight-thirty-one, eight-thirty. Dustin wanted to arrive fashionably early to a party which started at nine, for which he had nothing in particular to be excited about.
Steve was to take him to the dance. Not like, take him-take him, like drop him there and then buzz off and make himself scarce until eleven-thirty, when the dance would be over. Then he had to pick Dustin up and deliver him back home in one piece.
It was a bit contrived and over complicated, but Steve knew his scheduled dates and his times all too well, even double checking that this would all take place during the p.m. and not the a.m. Dustin had stared incredulously at him for a full and very silent thirty seconds before blinking once and nodding.
When he gets Dustin’s frantic call on December 8th and can’t get Dustin to relax for the life of him, Steve nearly descends into cardiac arrest, especially when he can’t get the kid on the other end to calm the fuck down enough to explain a single word. After a solid two minutes of the both of them near hyperventilating, Dustin finally spits out, “I don’t have anything to wear.”
“What?”
“I said I don’t have anything to wear.”
“No. No, I heard you. I just don’t follow.”
“I need you to take me to Maureen’s. In downtown. It’s on South Main Street.” Steve knows Maureen’s. It’s practically the only place in Hawkins for formal attire, a tiny boutique run by Maureen Angelos, a shrunken and ancient woman who was, despite a sour appearance, extremely kind and just a hair shy of too helpful.
Steve had gone there for every single nice article of clothing he ever needed, including his suit for junior prom. He really didn’t want to think about junior prom because he went with Nancy and when he saw her standing there, in a satiny pink dress, huge eyes reflecting the tiny glass lights around the room, he’d decided he was going to marry her. That was all bullshit now. But he doesn’t tell any of that to Dustin.
Instead he says, “I know Maureen’s. Why do you need me to take you?”
“You’re gonna know what looks cool! If you don’t go, then it’s gonna be my mom and you know what she’s like!” Claudia Henderson, despite being one of the nicest women in town, was also one of the most dowdy and frilly. She would likely force Dustin into some awful but very fluffy sweater, printed all over with piss-yellow argyles and little pink cats. Steve can actually picture the sweater and he’s pretty sure it’s because he’s seen her wear it around town.
“Yeah, okay. What time?”
“Now’s good.” With an eye roll, Steve affirms, and then hangs up as he rolls off of his bed onto his feet. He’s mostly spent these past few weeks lounging around feeling bad for himself, drinking more alcohol than usual with melancholy fervor, and being harassed by Dustin. He doesn’t actually mind the last one. He really likes Henderson and all of his friends. Most of his friends.
He can’t look at Mike, he looks so damn much like Nancy that it hurts his chest and then he gets convinced that he’s having dysrhythmia and lays down to die only to discover that what hurts isn’t actually physical enough to kill him. And the bowl cut kid, the one who went missing a year ago, is so gentle that Steve’s hurt when he thinks about Jonathan Byers swallows itself by the tail, so while he does like Will, he doesn’t want to spend much time with him. Steve feels selfish for it but he wants to cling onto his pain. It’s really all he has right now.
Steve sort of zones out as he drives, passing places he used to haunt when he was really just a vapor of a person, held together by loutish ego and hairspray. Tommy Hagan’s worn down front door, surrounded by overgrown hedge, where the pair of them snuck beers and cigarettes back in the sixth grade. Carol Perkins’s front yard where the trio of them (Steve, Tommy, and Carol) used to practice using their best swear words. The parking lot of the local church, where he and Tommy used to do doughnuts every winter, which somehow never killed them. The park, where he and Tommy and Carol and whoever Steve was having sex with at the time and maybe Tina or Nicole or somebody used to loiter for hours until Chief Hopper would show up, half drunk and half wild and all delirious and yell at them to, “Go the fuck home!”
Dustin is waiting for him on his doorstep, practically vibrating from anticipation. Steve tries to bring himself to be annoyed that he’s been demanded out of his house on a Saturday afternoon when he’s actually maybe still a little hungover from his one-too-many pity beers last night, but he couldn’t possibly. Weirdly enough, Dustin Henderson is the closest thing Steve has to a real friend right now and it makes him happy to see him bounce his way into the car with the fervor of a puppy that’s been let off of its leash. He shuts the door a little too loudly for Steve’s beer-headache and if he notices Steve’s wince, he doesn’t say anything.
The drive to Maureen’s is chatty. Dustin likes to talk. Steve also likes to talk but when he’s with Dustin, he mostly listens, which he likes. He didn’t ever know he was a good listener until about a month ago, when he started hanging out with Dustin. Steve parallel parks just out front of Maureen’s, which Dustin is excited about, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make him feel a little more like his old self. Not the bad one, but the good one, the confident one.
In the store, Maureen hobbles over and borderline clings to Steve’s arm and rests her whole body weight against him as she hoarsely asks what they need help finding. Steve tells her truthfully that they don’t need any help and pulls Dustin along to look at the dress shirts, of which there are a surprising amount in a whole array of colors. Dustin’s first pick is brown and patterned with abstract purple paisley. When Steve grimaces, Dustin shoves it back.
Green and yellow is a no. So is the fuschia one. So is the plaid one. And the carmine and cornflower one. Steve eventually starts shifting through the shirts in Dustin’s size himself, finally settling on a turquoise blue one. He produces it and holds it up in front of the kid, who looks at him skeptically.
“You have blue eyes, yeah? This one will look good.”
After a few minutes, Dustin steps out of the tiny changing booth to show him. After Steve gives his approval, Dustin averts his eyes sheepishly and asks, “Can you tell me how to tie a tie?”
Steve pulls two ties off of a nearby rack, to which Dustin starts. “A bow tie.”
So Steve grabs two bow ties and drapes one over the back of his neck and hands the other to Dustin. Steve shows him, once slowly: cross over, wrap up and over, wrap down and under, loop around, pull out the sides to present a bow. Then he watches Dustin try it several times. He gets it right and then unties it to do it again.
The bells tied to the door jingle as it opens. Steve can hear Maureen slowly ambling over and in a harsh whisper, asking how she can help. And then, clear as day, the sound of you, laughing and your voice.
Steve’s stomach drops to his toes. His blood gets cold but his face is unbearably hot and suddenly he’s sweating all over, probably through his shirt, even though it’s December in goddamn Indiana. He glances over at the full length mirror, suddenly wishing he could check up on how he looks, but Dustin is in front of the mirror, retying his tie for the fifth time now. Steve remembers that he has a bow tie tied around his own neck and goes to take it off as fast as he can, but before he can even start—“Hey, Steve!”
“Hey,” Steve says, trying and failing to act cool. You beam at him and yeah, he gets why they call it that now, because your smile is so bright and warm it makes him want to melt. It actually makes his knees liquefy just a tad, so he shifts a little so you don’t notice how weak his legs have suddenly become.
“What are you doing here?” He asks, and he wishes it hadn’t come out sounding so accusatory and he semi winces, but you only smile wider, which he didn’t think was even possible.
“I’m getting shoes for the Winter Concert.” At his clear confusion, you add, “For choir. At school. I’m in the show choir.”
“Oh.” He laughs and it comes out more like letting out a heavy exhale. You look at him expectantly for a second and it doesn’t click until it does. “Oh! Yeah, I’m here with Dustin. Getting stuff for the Snow Ball.”
“I like your tie,” you say. He glows and he’s sure you can see it on his face, that he’s lit up like a glow worm.
He’s known you for a while. During that winter of ‘83, you were a force to be reckoned with, fierce and fiery. Only seventeen and a half hours after he watched you beat the shit out of whatever in God’s name that thing was, you showed up on his doorstep with an approximate fuckton of homemade chocolate chip cookies for him and Nance along with a promise that you were always ready to lend an ear and slash or be a friend. Steve hadn’t taken you up on it much and sometimes he regretted that.
This past month, he’s had his ass handed to him in front of you by Billy goddamn Hargrove, for whom you had many choice words (“He’s so fucking, he’s just, fuck!” So mad you were borderline shaking even hours later as the group bundled up after the gate’s closure). You also smashed several of the gross, weird dog creature things, pinning them down after whacking them with the biggest kitchen knife he had ever seen and stomping on their skulls with your chunky Doc Marten boots. He questioned your method of using a knife as a bludgeon but he couldn’t deny that it had worked. You’d beaten a dog thing half to death after kicking it off of him and then helped him up off his ass with a surprising amount of strength. And to cap it all off, you’d comforted him a bit about Nancy, providing solace for his bruised and beaten heart.
Because of your far from standard badassery, you know his biggest and worst secret: Steve is not cool. He’s so uncool that it hurts and you’re so fucking cool that he can’t stand it.
“Uh, when is this Winter Concert?”
“It’s on the fifteenth at 8:30. It goes until about 9:30 ish.” Your eyes are full of something that Steve can’t quite read. Excitement, maybe? Apprehension? He’s about to confirm that he will absolutely be there, front row, wielding a giant sign with your name and maybe whatever your jersey number is on it, when Dustin pipes up from the mirror.
“That’s when the Snow Ball is! It starts at 9:00. Steve’s my ride,” he says, almost absently, like he’s just been reminded of the upcoming event. It’s almost imperceptible, but Steve swears he sees your face fall before you remember not to let it.
“Well, you guys have fun, I’ve got to, uh, shoes. I’ll see you around!” You say, very hurriedly dashing off. Steve lifts his hand in a tiny wave that you don’t see but someone else does.
“So that’s what acting like you don’t care looks like.” Steve shoots Dustin a sharp look before ruffling the kid’s hair.
“Come on, smart guy, let’s get your shit and go home.”
A week later, Steve is exactly punctual. Dustin is not. Steve knocks on the Henderson’s door and is ushered inside where he waits for him next to the front door, with Claudia ambling around just generally trying to make herself seem busy. When Dustin dashes to the door, his hair is Farrah-Fawcett-fluffy and his bow tie is tied neatly at his throat.
Steve offers parting words of advice to his small child friend and waits to make sure he makes it into the building and catches a glimpse of Nancy. She’s as beautiful as she’s always been, as most people are. Seeing her makes his stomach hurt and that feeling doubles down when he glances at his dashboard clock. 9:01. On a sudden impulse, Steve puts it in reverse and floors it across the way towards Hawkins High.
9:12. Every goddamn person in town must be at this thing because Steve is struggling to find any open space. When he finally gets himself nestled into a spot that’s probably a hair too small, Steve shuts off his car and leaps out, almost slipping on the tar of the parking lot. He sees the gym doors, glowing light peeking out and races toward them. He opens the door and tiptoes into the building, somehow managing to avoid causing a distraction as the guy who must be the choir teacher yammers into the microphone. Steve isn’t really listening to him as he stands to the side of the bleachers, tucked out of the way.
You have a dress on. It’s deep green, school colors, and hangs past your knees but he can see the pair of black flats you must have gotten that day at Maureen’s. They're the pretty kind that have ties around your ankles. You fidget your feet uncomfortably like you’re still not used to them. As soon as the director stops speaking, your head snaps up like you’re worried someone caught you not paying attention. Probably nobody even noticed except for Steve.
When your group’s last song starts, Steve doesn’t recognize it even faintly. But it's pretty. He can’t even hear anybody but you.
----
If you’re under the age of sixteen, you have to be accompanied by someone over the age of sixteen to be allowed to rent roller skates, Max explains to him. That’s why Steve has to come with her and why she can’t just come by herself. Even if her friends were coming, which they’re not, since Fridays are their D&D night (whatever that means), they couldn’t get skates by themselves anyway. Besides, it wasn’t like he really had anything better to do, something that Max made a point to remind him of.
The new roller rink in Hawkins blares neon at all hours of the day, even after its 11:30 p.m. closing time, but now, at 8:45 on a Friday night in mid April, it’s crowded to its limits. Max bounces ahead of Steve, not waiting up for him as he wobbles his way clumsily towards the floor. He’d thought since he’d always been so athletic—assigned the prestigious role of co-captain of the Hawkins High swim team for two years running and captain of the basketball team, and though they didn’t win their championship, he was their star player—he would never have any trouble with any sort of athletic feat. He has since been proven wrong.
Steve feels like a confused baby deer, knees buckling and thighs wobbling and he clings to the railing as soon as he reaches it. Max finally spares him a backwards glance and does an obligatory and very Maxish eye roll before she skates back over to him seamlessly. She holds out her hand and the moment Steve takes it, she yanks him along at top speed. He flails wildly, off balance immediately, but she is completely unfazed. Max is not very big. Steve should be far more difficult for her to tow without even really breaking much of a sweat, but she is nonchalant while flinging him around like a ragdoll. .
With no warning, his left knee crumbles inward and Steve lets go of her hand to catch himself on his palms and his right knee, which jarrs his limbs incredibly painfully. He scrambles up to his feet, slipping and very nearly falling again before hoisting himself up to anchor to the rail. Max pauses.
“You need to balance your weight fully on the balls of your feet and bend your knees. You push off with your foot and then bring it back to the ground and glide.” She demonstrates, like it’s the easiest thing in the entire world. Steve lets go of the railing and immediately pitches forward again and in his attempt to not smash his face into the ground, he twists and lands harshly on his ass.
“Fuck!” Steve yelps, barely noticing the word coming out of his mouth as Max is overcome with sudden impish glee.
“Hey!” She shouts at someone behind him, behind the railing. She waves wildly, before poking Steve with her toe brake. He isn’t really all that enthused to look like an embarrassing doofus in front of one of Max’s kid friends, most of whom he actually knows pretty well. He’ll never hear the end of it from any of those kids, except maybe the little one with the bowlcut. Steve sulks a bit, not wanting to be noticed by whoever it is that Max is so excited to see. Max turns her attention back to him and snaps, “Are you gonna get up, Steve?”
Steve grabs back onto the safety rail and hauls himself upward and leans back cooly against the rail. Then and only then does he turn to see whoever Max’s friend is. When he realizes it’s you, Steve wants to retreat into himself as hard as he can, like a very embarrassed turtle. He hopes that you didn’t just see him fall and maybe you didn’t because you’re grinning like you're excited to see him and not like you just watched him make a complete and utter fool of himself. He’s about to let out a deep breath he’s been holding when Max pipes up right as you arrive next to him through garish yellow railing.
“Did you see Steve just eat absolute shit?”
You laugh as Steve kicks at her with no real force behind it.
“I did not. Maybe I’ll get an encore performance.” Your eyes are squinty and happy. You’re teasing him and Steve feels fire swallow him up from the pit of his belly to the tips of his ears. Max looks at him very pointedly, as if she’s trying to communicate something extra with just her eyes.
“Can you promise not to break any bones while I go race with those guys over there?” Steve gives her a thumbs up after assessing Max’s acquaintances and deciding she’ll be perfectly safe. She takes off immediately. Zoomer.
When he turns, you’re gone and he thinks for a horrible moment that you’ve left and now he’s going to huddle in the corner until he has to peel Max away at closing time. Then he sees you looping through one of the openings in the railing to head over to him and all is right again. Then he realizes you’re probably here with someone and his heart seizes up again. Steve tries to say something to you, but when he opens his mouth, absolutely nothing comes out. He probably looks like a gobsmacked goldfish. He closes his mouth.
“So you’re here with Max?” He’s glad that you can act like a person when he can’t.
“Yeah. What about you?” In his mind he crosses his fingers that it isn’t a date, please don’t let it be a date, please, seriously, he won’t ask for anything else if you aren’t on a date.
“Oh, I’m here with Kevin. You know Kevin, right?” Steve knows Kevin. Steve has known Kevin since the eighth grade, when he watched Kevin cut his gums while biting his toenail on a dare. Steve does not like Kevin and it is actually mostly unrelated to the whole toenail thing.
Almost as if on cue, Kevin comes hurtling over with one large paper cup full of something and a bag of popcorn. He flings the cup into your hands over the railing. From this angle, Steve can see it’s full of blue Slurpee, but also from his very close proximity, he can smell that there is a lot of alcohol mixed into it, which he assumes Kevin brought from home. You delicately hand it back to him, pointing at the “NO FOOD OR DRINKS PERMITTED ON SKATING FLOOR” sign. He accepts it back fairly graciously, which Steve finds a little surprising. The silence between you, the three of you, is incredibly tense and awkward until a voice booms over the loudspeaker, announcing the hourly couple’s skate. Steve’s eyes meet yours but he looks away before you say anything at all. Instead, Kevin shoves both the popcorn and the drink into Steve’s arms before leaping over the rail and somehow not killing himself in the process. As Kevin takes you to the center of the rink and Foreigner’s gentle love ballad (I Want to Know What Love Is) begins to play, you look back at him and give him the softest smile he’s ever seen.
Through the entirety of the song, which is maybe the longest four minutes and fifty-one seconds of Steve’s entire life, you keep glancing over at him. Every single time, he knows you find him already looking at you, but he can’t take his eyes off of you, not when he wants to catch your gaze every time. And it’s because he’s looking so insistently that he catches the end of the song, when Kevin pulls you into his chest tightly, caging you in his arms, and kisses you. You push away after only a few seconds and look a bit frazzled, and you skate off of the rink pretty frantically, not looking at him. Steve’s stomach drops like he’s on a roller coaster but in a bad way. Kevin very nonchalantly comes over to take back his contraband.
“What’s their problem?” He punctuates his sentence with a very loud slurp of his cocktail. Steve shakes his head and starts taking slow, careful roller skate steps in your direction, guiding himself with the rail. He can feel Kevin watching him the entire time, a look of incredulousness on his face. Steve doesn’t actually really care all. He’s focused on getting to where you are, now alone at a little table near the west side wall, which is one giant window. He almost makes it.
Letting go of the railing, he continues slow, small steps, but starts getting anxious to go faster, to get over to you and check on you. Steve hopes you aren’t crying. He doesn’t want you to cry. He’s so focused on hoping that you’re not crying that he missteps. He knows you see this time, as he careens directly into the ground. He hits his forearm pretty hard and his jaw knocks against something, causing his teeth to all clash together. For a second, he’s decided to just stay there forever so he never has to face you again, when he sees your feet, your roller skates, come into his field of vision. You kneel down next to him.
“Are you okay?” You’re genuinely concerned until he nods, and then you start laughing so hard that you’re shaking and then you do his favorite thing in the whole world, which is when you lose control of your giggle fits and you snort, which always makes you giggle even harder. He can’t help but laugh too as you help him shift into a sitting position. You’re laughing and it’s so not mean and you didn't even laugh at all until you made sure he wasn’t really hurt and that makes him laugh, because he’s fine and you’re not even put off by his extreme lack of grace.
“We have got to get these death traps off of you, Steve,” you say, pinching the toe of his skate and wiggling it. The intimacy of you untying his shoe and sliding it off is not lost on him. As soon as his skates are off, you take yours off too, swatting his hand when he tries to unlace them for you. Your date with Kevin is all but forgotten, but Steve has never been known for his tact, so he immediately brings it up.
“Are you okay?” You look almost confused for a second.
“I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?”
“You sort of flew over here, you know, after…” Steve trails off, looking at you expectantly. You shift into a sitting position on the floor next to him, wiggle your feet to get them to wake back up, God, your circulation is awful, and then you scrunch your nose.
“It wasn’t like, terrible or anything, you know. He just didn’t ask first. And he was holding me too tight, which I really,” you sigh. “You know how I feel about that.” Steve does. You told him one time that when you get hugged too tight, you feel like a teeny tiny little mouse getting suffocated by a boa constrictor, except inside your chest and lungs and around your heart.
“Plus, he really didn’t smell very good,” you say, frowning, which makes Steve bark out a laugh. You elbow him gently but pointedly in his side, reminding him to Be Nice.
“Sorry, sorry! I just wasn’t expecting you to say that,” he says, grinning. It drops a little when he asks, “But seriously. Are you okay? Did that, you know, hurt you?” He wants to kick himself. He knows it didn’t physically hurt you, obviously. But-
“No. I’m okay. I mostly just felt stuck, and that’s why I ran off so fast. Thanks for checking on me, though.”
“Any time.” Steve really wants to tell you that he thinks you look really pretty and that he thinks that Kevin is an idiot, especially for not listening to you, but he’s cut off by someone else plunking down on his other side. Thankfully, it’s just Max.
“What’s up?”
“It’s all just couples making out now. Can we go home?” Steve smiles and gets up on his sock feet. When he holds out his hand to help you up, he sees that you’re gazing off into space. Oh, actually you’re not though, you’ve just noticed that goddamn Kevin has found some other girl to skate with and is not at all bothered by your absence. You look a little bit hurt and he can’t stand seeing that look on your face so Steve nudges your cheek gently with his knuckles and you jump a little before grabbing hold of his hand and letting him help you up.
“Do you need a ride home?” Max asks you. “Steve can take you.”
And Steve takes you home. And then he takes Max home. If she’d noticed anything about you or your date or about Steve in the past few hours, she doesn’t let on. Once Max is safely inside her front door, Steve drives back through the other side of town, ready to collapse face first into his pillow.
And when he drives past the roller rink again, still neon and bright, he sees Kevin, now outside with that other girl. The two of them are sitting on the curb, sharing his popcorn and looking up at the stars and they’re smiling and some of Steve’s dislike of Kevin fades away a little, but he’s not entirely sure why. He just keeps driving home.
----
The pool has been under construction for months. Steve had been working there over summers since his freshman year of high school but a combination of reasons kept him from coming back for the upcoming months. For one, Hargrove got a job there and he can’t imagine trying to converse with him civilly after he tried to kill Steve and at least two of his young charges. For two, his father wanted him to work in the food service industry, something Richard Harrington considered to be far more demeaning than almost any other job. Steve didn’t particularly agree, but he’s really only one fight with his dad away from an eviction notice so he doesn’t point that out.
It’s the first Friday after the end of the 1985 school year. Steve’s young friends want him to take them to the pool now that it’s open again. It was the day before Henderson was supposed to go off to summer camp in the middle of nowhere. So Steve has agreed to take them, although he did make sure to mention it more than once to you so that he could make sure that you ended up there at the same time.
Steve ushers in the whole group, Mike and Will and Max and Lucas and Dustin and is immediately disappointed that the pool is A) incredibly crowded and B) there is absolutely no sign of you anywhere. He’s instantly huffy and mopes all the way over to a miraculously unoccupied pool chair, which he flings himself into with a dramatic sigh. At least from here he can keep an eye on his kids. Steve uncaps his sunscreen and covers his whole torso, his arms and his legs before realizing that he won’t be able to cover his own back. He pouts harder before pulling his t-shirt back on.
After about a half an hour, Dustin comes over to his chair, dripping with water and the smell of chlorine, and pokes Steve in his belly.
“Why are you so sulky? Is it ‘cause your lady friend isn’t here yet?” Steve shoots up from his theatrical recline (in case you walk in at any minute so you can see him from his best angle) to glare daggers at him.
“First off, I’m not sulking.” He absolutely is. “And even if I was sulking, which I am not, it wouldn’t be because my lady friend isn’t here.” It absolutely is. “I don’t even know who you’re talking about.” He absolutely does.
“Whatever, you don’t have to be such a weirdo about it,” Dustin scolds.
“I’m not,” Steve insists, punctuated with an eye roll. He stretches out, arms overhead, groaning quietly as his spine cracks in several spots. Dustin crinkles his nose at him with a frown.
“Staring isn’t gonna just make them appear out of nowhere.”
“You don’t know that,” Steve says, forgetting that he wasn’t supposed to know who Dustin was talking about. Dustin mimes jamming his index finger hard down his throat and exaggerated vomiting. The message is clear. Henderson finds his gooeyness utterly nauseating. Steve does too actually.
He watches the gate for hours, waiting for you to walk in, lower belly tied in knots and palms sweating profusely. Every passing minute makes it clearer that you aren’t coming this time but he keeps hoping and hoping and hoping. He gets dragged in the water for a bit and tries to turn his mind off and just enjoy himself. It doesn’t entirely work but he does manage to have some fun, even when Mike pushes him over in the deep end in a very clear assassination attempt that sends a fuckton of water up his nose.
Even as he’s ushering his crowd of kids who are still too wet to get in the car, he’s on his tiptoes craning his neck to search around the parking lot for any trace of you. The kids clamor as he shoves them unceremoniously back into the car, Dustin and Lucas spending a full minute arguing over who gets to ride shotgun until Max gives Lucas a dirty look that sends him scrambling to the backseat with her.
Steve is moodily quiet as he drives home and drops all of his kids off. He saves Dustin for last. The kid scowls at him as they pull up to his house.
“Do me a favor, Steve, and get this shit figured out before I come back. You have a month.” He doesn’t have to clarify what shit he’s referring to. Steve swats his friend on his shoulder affectionately, punctuated with an eye roll. Dustin takes the swat with grace, using it to propel himself out of the car door.
“Have fun! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Steve calls out through his unrolled window as Dustin walks toward his front door. Dustin responds with a thumbs up and his typical sugary toothless grin. Steve is really going to miss him, even if he is annoying sometimes and thinks he knows everything despite being fourteen. He’s still thinking about it as he pulls into his driveway which is how he misses you at first.
You’re sitting on Steve’s front step. Your knees are all tucked up into your chest and you’re picking at your fingernails. As much as Steve had spent the day looking for you everywhere, he had to do a double take to make sure it was really you and not his brain inventing visions of you where you weren’t.
When you hear the car you jolt and look up and when you realize that it is in fact, Steve, and not his parents, you shoot to your feet, fidgeting nervously. Steve rushes to park his car and unclip his seat belt and open the door, tripping over his feet on his way over to meet you. You launch at him, screeching to a halt before making contact sort of like you aren’t sure if you should touch him.
“I’m so sorry, Steve! I wanted to go, I promise I had a good reason not to!” It’s like Steve’s stomach melts all the way onto the sidewalk like bubblegum ice cream and he can’t help but smile at you as he lights up inside like the fourth of July.
“That’s cool,” Steve says, his voice cracking in the middle of it. “Um, I’m feeling pretty worn out after all the sun today. Did you wanna come grab a bite with me?”
He stumbles over his words, but it doesn't seem to matter because you bounce on your toes excitedly, scrunching your nose as you smile. He opens the passenger side door for you, letting you duck under his arm. When he hops in on his side, he glances at you. He expects to find you staring absently out the window, zoned out in that way you get but he finds you already looking at him. The sunset is practically assaulting your eyes, giving their color an almost orange hue, and you squint a little before pulling down the visor on your side.
“Where were you thinking?” Steve asks, forgetting briefly that he asked you to get food with him. You chew the inside of your cheek thoughtfully as you consider your options. Hawkins doesn’t have a lot of choices, especially now that Benny’s old place has been forcibly reformed into a party house. Steve’s already making his way toward the only other diner in town when you relax back into your seat.
“I dunno, probably Hawkins Roadside.” Hawkins Roadside is a reformed train car open 24/7 that offers a menu of the greasiest food in existence with the added bonus of minimal seating. It’s usually decently busy, but it usually gets crowded later in the evening when the party kid’s munchies catch up with them and the high schoolers head out on cheap first dates. It’s 8:00 p.m. or so on May 31 so the sun is descending, which means that the two of you would have at least two hours or so before Roadside gets busy but Steve has a heavy suspicion that their business is about to tank because of the new mall downtown. When he parks, he hops out quickly and does a dorky little half jog around to your side to open the door for you.
It’s empty except for the two of you. The girl behind the counter, probably just a couple years older than Steve, aggressively chews on her gum while she sizes you up, probably deciding how much trouble the two of you will cause for her. She decides the answer is none. Steve is too focused on reminding himself that this is not a date and this is just a casual friend thing. And you, for your part, are usually pretty disarming.
You aren’t exactly a picky eater but fatty food really isn’t your thing. You get a cobb salad and turn down Steve’s offer of fries or splitting a milkshake. He does keep sneaking fries onto your plate when you aren’t looking at him, though. He gets that opportunity a lot. You don’t like making eye contact very much and you zone out pretty frequently. During the middle of one of his covert operations, you turn your head back from the window that’s captured your attention and catch him red handed, hand over your plate, french fry in his fingers. At your raised eyebrow, Steve chuckles awkwardly.
“I didn’t want you to be hungry.”
“Thank you,” you say, eyes teasing as you duck your head a little to take the fry from him with your teeth. Steve leaves his hand outstretched for way too long afterwards, staring at you owlishly. That was totally normal of you so why does he feel so weird about the way your lips semi grazed his fingers? When he realizes he’s still holding his arm out like an idiot, he jerks it back like he’s been burned. You don’t seem to notice.
“So what kept you today?” Steve asks, trying to be nonchalant about his disappointment. You immediately make a face that reminds him of a guilty puppy.
“Sorry. I wanted to go, really. I just didn’t feel all that comfortable going to a public pool. I, uh, I can’t swim.” Steve perks up.
“I can swim!” You tilt your head to one side. “I mean, I can swim, so I could teach you.”
“Maybe.” You’re a little bit coy about it. “I don’t know how I feel about going to the public pool, to be completely honest with you.”
“I have a pool. We-we wouldn’t have to go to the public pool.” Steve hasn’t gotten in his pool since November of 1983. The night with Nancy and with Barbara. He hasn’t been able to stomach it, thinking about how selfish he had been at that time and how a girl had fucking died in his backyard while he was busy getting his rocks off with a pretty girl. He’s always blamed himself for what happened to Barbara and it didn’t ever help that Nancy started building a resentment for him over it, truly believing him to be responsible. He’s never said any of this to you.
Your eyes narrow at him like you know there’s something that he isn’t telling you and you reach out and take his hand in both of yours. You don’t push it though, just hold onto his hand. Steve’s palm starts to sweat and he hopes that you don’t notice. You run your thumbs over the back of his hand.
“Maybe we can do that sometime.” Sometime.
Sometime doesn’t actually come. Only about a month later, Dustin is bursting into Scoops Ahoy with a secret Russian transmission and a dictionary and then, well, the rest is pretty hazy. Something about getting trapped in an elevator for several hours and truth serum and Alex P. Keaton trying to bang his mom. Shit’s complicated.
Dustin talks about Steve finding his Suzie and Steve thought that maybe he did, but Robin is not that girl even if he wishes she was, if only because she isn’t as scary as you are.
Ambulances wail in the parking lot and Steve is half deaf for the sound of car alarms. As the pair of them sit side by side, finally losing the end of their truth serum highs, wrapped in thick shock blankets, Robin smiles softly. Its to herself, sort of like a secret.
“Harrington, you know what you were saying in the bathroom earlier?”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t need me to be your Suzie. You already have yours.” Robin bumps his shoulder with her own.
You’re across the way in his field of vision, hair plastered with blood and Upside Down critter goop, cuts along your face and arms, bruises swelling the side of your face. You’re still smiling as you talk to Officer Callahan, who seems to be exhausted by the evening. When you catch him staring at you, you wave at him. He waves back and then winces because his entire body feels like it went through a trash compactor.
“No,” Steve sighs, forgetting not to let his daydreams seep out of his head and into his voice. “I have better.”
----
Mid August has no right to be as hot as it is. Sweat crawls down Steve’s back even as the sun begins its slow descent over the West. Lucas stands on the opposite end of the outdoor basketball court, hunched over with his hands on his thighs trying to catch his breath. They’ve been playing for hours and the kid is good, absolutely good enough to make the team in a few weeks. Sinclair makes him feel old, like his back is ancient. It doesn’t help that his left eye has only just completely stopped hurting constantly. It woke him up pretty much every night, throbbing violently, for weeks after the Battle of Starcourt, long after the bruise had faded and the hyphema had healed. The concussion had been harder to shake.
When Steve tried to shower and scrub the caked-on dry blood a few hours after he got home, he’d had a repeat movie theater bathroom incident, where looking up at the ceiling had made him immediately nauseous and he’d slipped down to his knees as his stomach tried to evacuate its contents. It made him feel pathetic and stupid, having to call you and say, “I can’t take a shower.” He hadn’t even entertained the idea of asking anyone else to help him, even if it felt more embarrassing.
Steve hadn’t had to explain or ask for your help. You were over less than fifteen minutes later, dimming his bathroom lights and running the faucet, asking him how hot he likes the water. You’d tilted his chin up just enough to help him rinse his hair, creating a barrier between his hairline and his face with your hand to keep soap out of his eyes. And for weeks when he was up all night with violent headaches, you stayed up with him until the pain diminished enough for him to slip out of consciousness. He’d lay across your lap and you’d stroke his hair which would eventually relax him just enough to feel a dull ache.
Steve actually really hates that because it has to come to an end eventually. He’s kind of been able to trick his brain up until this point into thinking that this was enough for him and that he didn’t endlessly wish for more. That he didn’t endlessly wish that he could curl up asleep in your arms in a non platonic type of way that was because you really wanted to hold him and not because he was sick with pain.
Steve’s head is starting to hurt and his stomach is starting to swim up into his chest. He hopes that Sinclair calls this shit soon because he can’t admit that he suffers from as much pain as he does. He’s still supposed to be the protector.
They play a bit longer. Lucas is so excited about tryouts but so nervous that he’s practically vibrating over it. He keeps mentioning Max, like that maybe Max will come see his games and maybe she’ll let him back in. Steve has a suspicion that the second part has nothing to do with the basketball team at all.
“She’ll come around. She’s been through a hell of a lot. I mean, we all have, but she’s never fully understood the way that people are there for each other,” Sinclair says, dribbling the ball around Steve, heading up for a layup. Max will come around. She just needs to relearn trust and emotional intimacy.
When Steve gets home, he’s so exhausted that he falls asleep with his jeans still on, collapsing into his bed, ready for an intensive dreamless sleep. He’s wrong though, instead haunted by the fear of what happens the second he stops being alert enough to watch out for the others. His kids, his friends, his you, everyone in danger and nothing he can even do about it. As much as he wishes he could, Steve can’t make the Upside Down go away.
Steve jolts awake. His head starts throbbing the second he sits up, and he ends up just sort of sliding off of his bed and curling into a sad little ball on his bedroom floor, tucking his head underneath his bed because it's darker there. He’s sweating and hot but also clammy and shaky and he needs someone to come help him or to come and care about him. When he was little, he used to crawl into his mom’s bed and bury himself into the covers, regardless of if she was there but he’s grown out of that habit. Now he wiggles enough to reach the landline next to his bed and dial a number that has become endlessly familiar to him.
“Hello?” Just the sound of your voice makes him feel better, like he can breathe a little easier and like he has something to focus on other than his now spotty vision. .
“Hey.”
“What’s up, Steve? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he says and there’s a pause at the other end of the line. He pictures you twirling the cord around your finger
“Scale of one to ten?”
“Seven and a half.”
“I’ll be right there.” It’s only at the disconnected click that Steve checks the clock on the wall and finds that it's 1:34 in the morning. Twelve minutes later, there’s a soft tap on the front door. It's a formality. You know where the spare key is.
“Oh, sweetheart,” you say as you tiptoe into his room. Steve knows he looks a mess, still on the floor, rumpled and sad and scared. You help him off the floor and back into his bed and then reach out and stroke his hair. If it were anyone else, he’d tell them that hair is off limits, but you’re you and that makes you special. You tug on his arms and he lifts them up, allowing you to help him tug his shirt off and then his jeans. And then you go to his drawer and shift through his soft clothes, bringing him a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. After you help him put them on, you pause to look at his face, cupping his cheeks in your hands.
“Big or little?”
“Little,” Steve says, a little sheepishly, but you tuck him into your arms without complaint or hesitation. He hadn’t known that being the little spoon was an option for him until about a month ago and he now steadfastly refuses to give it up. You’re usually colder than he is but tonight you’re extra warm. His hand finds the back of your arm where it wraps across his waist and he grabs onto it with the tender resolve of a bulldog.
“What’s up?”
“Nothing.”
“Steve.”
“I don’t know, I just wish you wanted me, I guess.” He regrets the words as soon as they’re out of his mouth.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Steve backtracks.
“Who said I don’t want you?” His heart stops.
“What?”
“I said-”
“I heard what you said,” Steve says as he rolls over. You look apprehensive, incredibly nervous, like you’re worried that he’s pulling your leg.
“I’m sorry, I think I misinterpreted. Or you were thinking about someone different-”
“No. You didn’t.” Steve is staring at you now, headache fading with something else to focus on.
“Oh.”
“Can you tell me?”
“What?”
“That you want me?”
“Steve, I do want you. I have pretty much since the day I met you. I’m just not very good at showing it, I guess.” Steve wraps his arms around your middle, pulling you in closer to him, crushing you as he squeezes you like a boa constrictor. You squeak and he lets go.
“Sorry, I forgot-” You put your hand on his cheek, running your thumb along his cheekbone. Steve stares into your eyes as you stare at him, unblinking.
“I really want to kiss you,” Steve says, mouth dry.
“Kiss me in the morning,” you say.
“It’s morning now,” Steve says, before closing the gap between you.
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