#steve said he wants to be a mom but no not like that
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The Eye of the Hurricane [18] - Boundaries
A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️
Summary: Family dinner can get tense.
Word Count: 2500
Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Violence, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.
Series Masterlist
“Charm, how long are you going to keep this silent treatment going?” Bucky’s voice reached you and you kept your focus on Alpine, holding the toy as she smacked it with her paw. “I mean you were the one who went and met up with your ex—”
“A friendly lunch!” you said, lifting your gaze from Alpine to see him leaning against the door of his changing room, his arms crossed. Your heart skipped a beat but you pursed your lips, painfully aware of the petulant expression on your face.
“Does he know it was friendly?”
“What do you want me to do Bucky, make him sign a paper to acknowledge it?” you asked back and he rolled his eyes.
“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he said. “Why did you two break up?”
You frowned. “What?”
“I mean I know how good you are at holding grudges, so being friends with an ex doesn’t sound like you, to be honest.”
You shrugged your shoulders.
“Maybe he didn’t give me any reason to hold a grudge,” you said. “No wonder you wouldn’t get it.”
He gawked at you before running a hand over his face.
“I apologized like one thousand times—”
“You sent me a text couple of months later that said ‘you’re not still angry, are you’?” you corrected him. “Do you even know what an apology means?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Oh you do know,” you said. “I stand corrected.”
“No I mean, I’m sorry for that night.”
“Not accepted,” you deadpanned, scratching at Alpine’s head as she got bored of the feather and plopped down on the soft sheets. Bucky took a deep breath.
“Why did you break up?”
You lifted your head to roll your eyes at him. “Why is it important?”
“It’s important to me,” he said as he walked back into his dressing room, then came back with a pair of cufflinks. “Especially if he broke your heart.”
The idea of Bucky being angry at someone for breaking your heart was so absurd when he was the one who tore your heart out in the first place, but you chose not to comment on it.
“We just weren’t a good fit,” you said. “We were both idiots, to be honest.”
“You had him checked though?” Bucky asked, still busy with putting his cufflinks on and you shot him a glare.
“No Bucky, that was my first rodeo,” you deadpanned. “I just date civilians without making sure they can be trusted.”
“And now?”
“I had him checked when he moved into the city and first made contact with me,” you said. “He still can be trusted.”
“That’s where we disagree, Charm.”
“Have you trusted anyone in your life, Bucky?” you asked, exasperated. “Except Steve and Sam, that is.”
Bucky shrugged his shoulders.
“I trust you,” he pointed out, making your heart skip a beat and you stared at him for a couple of seconds, then forced out a scoff.
“Yet here you are, questioning me about that lunch and him in general?”
“That has more to do with him than you, you know that,” he replied and you leaned back on the pillows, Alpine jumping to curl up in your lap.
“Either way,” you muttered and stole a look at him as he got into his jacket. “We have dinner at 8 tonight with your mom and dad, don’t forget.”
Bucky threw his head back with a groan. “I still think we should skip that.”
“It’s the second time Winnifred asked,” you reminded him. “We’re going.”
“Fun,” he grumbled as he came closer to scratch at Alpine’s head, then pressed a kiss on top of your hair, making you bite back a smile. “I’ll see you tonight then?”
“Mm hm, try not to kill anyone until then.”
“I’ll try,” he said and walked out of the bedroom, making you heave a sigh as you looked down at Alpine who was purring.
“Dinner with George and Winnifred,” you muttered. “Yeah. Should be fun.”
*
It wasn’t that having dinner with George and Winnifred was something new for you. You had spent your entire childhood with Becca, not to mention your families had been close since you two were little, so tonight was supposed to be just relaxing.
In theory, that was.
Yet, a mere minute after stepping a foot into the house you realized that would not be the case. Bucky had texted you saying he would be a couple minutes late, and while the food was about to be ready, George was still in his office.
“You know how they get with business,” Winnifred told you as you sat next to Becca on the couch. “I’ll just check the kitchen, excuse me.”
“No problem,” you said as she walked away and you turned to Becca. “Do you know what’s happening?”
“Apparently my father and your father had a very long phone call,” Becca said without lifting her gaze from her phone, texting who you could only assume was Leila. “I have no idea why Bucky is late, but I know for a fact that daddy won’t like that.”
You bit inside your cheek, crossing your arms.
“Great,” you muttered. “I’m guessing Ian keeps dripping poison in my dad’s ear and now George is getting affected as well.”
Becca let out a small laugh.
“It’s not like daddy can do anything,” she murmured. “Bucky took over already.”
“No but he can make things quite difficult.”
“Bucky is used to that,” Becca said and you turned sideways to look at her better.
“So you didn’t bring Leila?” you asked as if trying to tease her and she scoffed.
“Are you kidding?” she asked. “I don’t want them to scare her off.”
“Give her some credit, will you?” you asked. “That car chase didn’t exactly scare her off.”
“If it came down to choosing between a car chase and my parents, I’d say the car chase is much safer,” she told you, making you bite down a grin.
“I get what you mean,” you said as Winnifred walked back into the living room again.
“The food is ready,” she said. “Come on, to the dining room.”
Becca threw her arm over your shoulder as you both followed her to the dining room and you were just about to take your seats when George walked into the room as well.
“Aw my dearest girls,” he said, first kissing Becca’s cheek and then yours. “I missed you two!”
“Hi George.”
“Hi daddy!” Becca gave him a bright smile and Winnifred motioned at the table.
“Sit down, sit down!” she said. “The chef spent the whole day working on this, I hope you’ll like it.”
“I’m sure I will, I’m starving,” you said as you sat down and George looked around the room.
“And where’s Bucky?”
“He’s going to be a couple of minutes late,” you said. “He texted me just now.”
George stole a look at Winnifred, then shook his head.
“That boy needs to work on his time management skills,” he said, making you pull your brows together and Winnifred waved a hand in the air.
“He’s just busy with work,” she said. “It’s understandable.”
You shot them a smile.
“He’s just giving me the time to talk about him without him present,” you joked, making George chuckle.
“And how is married life, Y/N?”
“It’s wonderful,” you said airily. “I have nothing to complain, really. Which, you know how unlike me that sounds.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Winnifred said. “You and Bucky…You two were explosive around each other until very recently.”
“Thin line between love and hate,” Becca said with a grin before sipping her drink and Winnifred shook her head.
“Bucky never hated you Y/N, you know that.”
You made yourself busy with your food and took your fork to your mouth, nodding.
“I know,” you said after swallowing your bite. “We just had um…history, in a way.”
“And isn’t it wonderful how it worked out?” George said. “As I’ve told Bucky before—”
“Hi everyone,” Bucky’s voice cut him off as he walked into the room and came straight to kiss you on top of your head before taking his seat beside you. “Sorry I’m late, something came up.”
George heaved a sigh of displeasure as if he was trying to contain himself, and Bucky raised his brows at him but Winnifred cleared her throat.
“Oh not a problem sweetheart, we’ve just started.”
“Thanks,” Bucky said as a maid filled his glass and turned to Becca. “You didn’t bring Leila?”
“I asked the same thing,” you said with a small grin and Becca made a face.
“No thank you,” she said. “I’d rather it if you guys didn’t scare her off.”
“Well—”
“Perhaps it’s better that Becca is taking her time,” Winnifred said. “To make sure she can be trusted. She is a civilian after all.”
Bucky tried to hide his smirk as he sipped his drink.
“You haven’t even met the girl yet mom,” he reminded her. “It’s a bit early for you to not approve.”
“It’s not that I don’t approve!” Winnifred said. “It’s just…perhaps it’d be better if Becca were dating someone in business, that’s all I’m saying.”
You tried not to roll your eyes but Becca shot her a look, then turned to Bucky.
“See? Exactly why my girlfriend is not here.”
“Nah, I agree that it was the best idea for this time,” George said. “Considering tonight’s topic at least. Bucky, we need to talk.”
Bucky frowned slightly and you sat up straighter, your stomach doing an unpleasant flip.
“About what?” Bucky asked and George licked his lips.
“What is this I hear about you letting Y/N get involved in the business?” he asked. “Arthur called me, he’s worried out of his mind.”
“Nobody is ‘letting’ me do anything,” you said, trying your hardest to control the defensive tone in your voice. “If my father talked to you, you can just tell me, George.”
Bucky vibranium hand covered yours on the table and you felt a fluttering in your stomach before you turned your attention to George who shook his head.
“Y/N honey, I get that you want to be a part of it,” he said with the same condescending tone your father tended to adapt whenever he talked about you becoming a part of the business and Bucky’s jaw clenched as you narrowed your eyes. “But it’s not the best idea. Bucky agrees, I’m sure.”
“I don’t,” Bucky pointed out without missing a beat. “And watch your tone while you’re talking to my wife.”
The warmth spread over your cheeks. “It’s fine, Buck.”
“No it’s not.”
Winnifred cleared her throat. “Perhaps we could talk about it later on.”
“Yeah, that’s not going to work,” Becca muttered, leaning back to sip her drink and George put his fork down.
“Bucky,” he said like a warning. “It’s wonderful that you two are happy and in love, don’t get me wrong. But when it comes to my business—”
“I think you mean my business,” Bucky deadpanned and a silence fell upon the table, nervousness filling your system. You rolled your shoulders back, trying to decide whether you should step in or not, but George beat you to it.
“I didn’t put you to the top just so that you can ruin the business, Bucky.”
Your eyes widened as your jaw dropped and Bucky let out a furious breath.
“You didn’t put me anywhere,” he said, his voice almost a growl. “I proved myself over and over.”
“Why don’t we all—”
“And where would you be without me?” George asked him and a furious breath left your lips.
“Alright, this is enough,” you said with a click of your tongue and stood up. “We’re leaving. Come on Buck.”
“Y/N—” Winnifred started as Bucky stood up, still holding your hand.
“See you later,” he told Becca and his mom, and you both walked out of the dining room and made your way through the foyer to step out of the house. He followed you to the car and you told the driver to drive you back to your place, then got in with Bucky.
Bucky didn’t speak a word all the way until you two got home, clearly lost in his own mind and you didn’t want to push him before he was ready. You picked up Alpine who rushed to greet you, then kissed her and put her down again. Bucky ran a hand over his face and flung himself on the couch in silence, biting inside his cheek while you filled two glasses of whiskey. You handed one to him and he took it, trying to offer you a small smile.
“Sorry about that,” he rasped out and you made a face.
“Your dad is an asshole, it has nothing to do with you,” you said. “It’s my therapist’s favorite topic to be honest with you, I could write a book about it.”
He huffed out a laugh. “Yeah well…”
“Speaking of, we’re going to the couple’s therapy,” you told him, making his head snap up.
“What?” he asked. “Why?”
“So that we can make sure this type of situation isn’t going to happen when you marry your second wife and have heirs,” you told him and he heaved a sigh.
“Y/N…” he muttered and rubbed at his eyes again. “Fuck, my head is killing me.”
You pursed your lips, then kicked at his shoe slightly before walking to the window.
“Can you come here?” you asked and he shot you a look, but did as you asked.
“What are we doing?” he asked and you turned to him.
“Tell me what you see.”
He fixed his gaze on the skyline and shrugged his shoulders.
“The city,” he said and you shook your head.
“No,” you said. “What you’re seeing is the part of the city under your rule. Not George’s, not anyone else’s. Yours.”
He huffed out a tense chuckle. “Mm hm, the part he gave to me.”
“The part you took rightfully,” you corrected him. “No one would let you have it if they thought you didn’t have what it takes, Bucky. We’re not letting Ian take over because he’s not the right choice, do you seriously believe you’d be where you are if it was just George handing you things?”
That made him think for a moment as he swallowed thickly, still keeping his gaze on the skyline and you bumped his shoulder with yours.
“You’re frustratingly good at what you do,” you told him. “Which is going to be a problem when I take over my dad’s business and eventually will have to do business with you, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, it’s fine.”
That managed to coax a chuckle out of him and he turned to look at you better, that fond light playing in his bright blue eyes.
“Thanks Charm.”
Your heart skipped a happy beat and you smiled back at him, then cleared your throat.
“No problem,” you said and walked away from him to grab your phone off the kitchen island.
“I’m ordering pizza by the way,” you called out, your stomach still filled with butterflies for some reason. “We stormed out in style but I’m still hungry. Want some?”
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#mob!bucky barnes#mob!bucky#mob!bucky x reader#mob! bucky#mafia!bucky barnes x reader#mafia!bucky barnes#mafia!bucky#mafia bucky barnes#mafia bucky x reader#mob bucky barnes x reader#mob bucky barnes#mob bucky x reader#mob bucky#mob boss!bucky#mob boss bucky barnes#mob au#mob!au#bucky barnes x you
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TICK // 5.1 - how soon is now?
Rating: mature (homophobia, angst, language, sexual content)
Word Count: 2700
☾
I am the son
And the heir
Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar
I am the son and heir
Of nothing in particular
☾
December 1983 - junior year
Stepping off of the school bus with Robin close behind you, you immediately began scanning the Hawkins High parking lot for Eddie and his beat up van.
And there he was.
Leaning casually against the side of his van, one leg propped up on the tire. It was hard to miss the unusual creature that called himself Eddie Munson.
You tugged on Robin's backpack strap. "See you later, yeah? Cover for me with Mom and Dad if I'm not back by dinner," thinking for a moment, you laughed. "Actually, maybe consider calling Hopper if I mysteriously disappear after this."
Robin chuckled, "He does have a legitimate kidnapper's van. But hey, maybe he'll try to lure you in with free candy or puppies."
Sticking out her pinky finger to you, your sister hooked it around yours before saying goodbye.
Normally, you would exit the school bus each morning and look around for Nancy, or maybe Chrissy Cunningham, who you were friends with briefly in middle school. You used to look for Barb, too, with her glowing red hair and kind smile.
You assumed Nancy was with Steve Harrington and their group. Lately, the popular crowd had been irking you, making the base of your skull ache with apprehension. The idea of them not being quality friends and judging you behind your back made you think of your parents.
You did a lot of thinking in your spare time - about your family, school, stuff like that. You were naturally an overthinker. That's why you picked at your fingers so much.
Most of your thoughts that week were more focused on your social life, though, including the crazy-haired boy that stumbled into your line of attention by simply giving you a tattoo and being genuine.
You wanted that for yourself. You wanted to feel comfortable in your own skin. You wanted Robin to feel comfortable in her own skin, too. How long had they been conforming to the mold your parents put them in, for fear of chastisement? Or, in Robin's case, conversion therapy.
Shaking your head and vowing to start a new day, you meandered over to Eddie. You wondered if he would ever not look slightly shocked when you talked to him in public.
"Good morning, sunshine. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
He sipped on a paper cup of what looked like black coffee, eyeing you through the steam that was coming off the hot liquid. You tried not to stare at his lips as he licked them.
"Wanna ditch school with me today?" you said quickly.
☾
You shut your mouth
How can you say
I go about things the wrong way?
☾
Ten minutes into driving and you were already bickering with each other.
Eddie couldn't keep his mouth shut. And you couldn't stop your fiery temper from taking the bait.
"...all I'm saying is, I don't understand why you're friends with those jocks."
You huffed for what felt like the millionth time, looking out the window of his van. "And I told you already, I'm not really friends with them. Nancy, yeah, but not the guys."
"And why not?"
Eyes wide, you snapped a little. "You just asked me why I'm friends with them. Now you're asking me why I'm not?"
The grin on Eddie's face was contagious, apparently, almost making you smile back. His outrageous, carefree attitude reminded you of why you wanted to skip school with him to begin with.
"Fine, fine. New question."
"Great," you replied with heavy sarcasm.
"What about me?" Eddie kept his eyes on the road, but glanced your way for a split second. "Why the hell are we suddenly hanging out with each other?"
"Because I asked you to ditch school with me today," you replied simply.
"Thanks, Captain Obvious, but you know what I meant."
The girl in his passenger seat thought for a minute or two, trying to find the right words. You knew he deserved some kind of explanation. Especially after kissing him out of nowhere at the party. Hell, he probably thought you were a typical popular kid playing a prank on him.
You picked absentmindedly at the stray fibers sticking out of the woven seat cover.
"I dunno, I feel like I can trust you, in a way. Like you're not going to run off and tell the whole school all the juicy details."
"I don't kiss and tell, Buckley."
You waved in his direction. "Exactly. Thanks for not telling anyone about the tattoo, either."
Eddie seemed unusually serious for a moment. "No problem."
"You know, I'm sure it would take less than a day for Carol Perkins to spread rumors about me if she had the right ammo for it. She's always had it out for me. And I never did shit to her!"
The boy beside you chuckled. "It's because you're prettier than her. And a lot less annoying," he paused before adding one last comment. "Not to mention her boyfriend Tommy drools over you every chance he gets."
"Seriously?"
"Seriously. You never noticed?"
"Well… no. He's a douchebag."
The van was at a stoplight in the middle of downtown. Though the weather was bitterly cold, you could still see shoppers walking along the storefronts.
"So, I've recently come into some money," Eddie began. "Ten whole dollars to be exact. What do you think about grabbing some hot chocolate?"
The corners of your lips lifted into a smile. "Sure."
He rounded the corner, pulling up to the nearly empty small diner.
Over two cups of hot chocolate, with extra whipped cream for you, the two teenagers chatted happily.
It felt natural for you. For the first time since you could remember, you felt comfortable. Your sharp edges softened. The wall you had built up to shield your heart was still standing strong, but there was a tiny window on it that you allowed Eddie Munson to peer through.
You learned about the love he had for his guitar, the dreams he had for his future in the music business. You learned, sadly, that he didn't get along with his dad and that his mother left when Eddie was just a kid.
And most importantly, he made you laugh. Usually, Robin was the only one who could do that. But the difference between Eddie and Robin was that you had the natural urge to protect your little sister. You didn't burden Robin with any more stress than she already had to deal with.
With Eddie, you looked at him as an equal, and maybe you didn't have to hide your deep, dark thoughts.
A few hours later, you both made your way back to Eddie's van.
"You know, I've never driven a car before."
The leather-clad boy stopped dead in his tracks, one pale hand resting on the hood of the van.
"Come again?"
"I can't drive. No one's ever taught me," you tugged on the passenger side door handle. "Pick your jaw up off the floor and unlock the van! I'm freezing, dingus."
Finally inside with the heat blasting through the old vents, Eddie turned to you as you rubbed your hands together furiously.
"Well, there's only one thing left to do now."
For a second, seeing the look on his mischievous face, you were scared that he was going to kiss you. Well, scared was the wrong word.
You definitely wanted to kiss him again. A part of you wanted to re-do the first kiss. It shouldn't have been a quick peck on the lips in the dark, only for you to run away afterwards. You figured it was a necessity to get the first kiss over with, though. Now, you wanted another one, but maybe with a bit more... romance?
Ugh, you thought inwardly. Romantic wasn't a word to describe you or Eddie fucking Munson.
But he didn't kiss you. He reached a calloused finger towards you and booped you on the nose like a little kid.
"I'm gonna teach you how to drive, Buckley."
☾
I am human and I need to be loved
Just like everybody else does
☾
"Slow down! Pump the brakes."
"I'm trying!"
"The hell you're not!"
"Stop being an ass! We're fine."
Eddie spoke deliberately, face calm. "Put your foot on the brakes before you kill the both of us."
He was just giving you shit, because in reality, you were just fine. He took you to a large abandoned factory that had an expansive parking lot to practice driving in. There was nothing even slightly close for you to crash into.
If Eddie was being totally honest, the sight of a woman, specifically you, behind the wheel of his beloved van was enough to drive him wild. After spending nearly an entire day with the spunky Buckley girl, his spank bank was overflowing.
He never even let Gareth or any of his friends drive the van. Besides his guitar, it was his most prized possession.
He couldn't possibly pass up the opportunity to teach you how to drive. It was like taking someone’s virginity - it can only be done to a person once. Eddie felt honored to be the first to teach you, even if he never ended up being any other firsts for you. But he had to slap those thoughts into oblivion as his jeans suddenly felt tight, causing him to sigh and fog up the window beside him.
What better than a day of hooky, hot chocolate, and reckless driving?
After a while of cruising at an insane speed of five miles per hour, you seemed to get more comfortable with pressing gently on the gas pedal and then alternating to the brakes. You were pretty good with the steering but your lead foot needed Jesus.
You slowed to a complete stop, shifting into park. "See? I told you we were fine."
"Hey, I just gotta look out for my precious… Brenda here," Eddie replied, rubbing his hand on the sun-bleached dashboard.
You stared at the boy, a smile tickling your lips. "Did you just make up that name?"
He tried to keep a straight face, but busted out laughing. "Yeah, I don't know. It was the first one I could think of. The van doesn't really have a name."
Eddie couldn't remember the last time he was in such a good mood.
"Well, she has a name now. Brenda."
You looked around, both of your hands still on the wheel. Your wandering eyes inspected the radio, then drifted towards Eddie. The look in your eyes was mysterious to him.
"What are you thinking?" he asked.
You chewed on your lip, staring out the window towards the decrepit factory in front of you. "Nothing, really. Just a lot of firsts for me lately."
A knot formed in his stomach as your words mirrored his earlier thoughts. Curiosity taking hold of him, he couldn’t help but pry. "Like…?"
You had a neurotic habit of picking at things when you tried to explain serious business. He watched patiently as you scratched at the peeling paint on the driver's side door.
"Driving, obviously. Skipping school. That was kinda my first… kiss the other day, too."
If you were ever planning to tell him this information without him asking, Eddie would never know. But he was shocked. He let out a quick, unintentional laugh. He didn't mean for it to sound rude... but the words were already spilling out.
"You're fucking with me, right?"
He sounded very rude.
You looked suddenly defensive. "Yes, Eddie, I'm lying to your face." Your voice dripped with sarcasm and your eyes turned cold.
"Back it up, sunshine. I'm not making fun of you," he rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "But, like, why? Why me? If it's 'cause you were drinking, I totally understand if it was a mistak-"
"No," you interrupted firmly, "Not a mistake." And then you went silent.
Looking again at the clock on the radio, you unbuckled your seatbelt and climbed out.
"I've got to get home soon. I don't want my parents to know I ditched."
"Won't the school call them since you didn't show up?"
"Probably, but they've been at work all day. They don't usually get home until after my sister and I get off the bus."
Trading seats with you in the van, Eddie followed your directions and drove you home. He felt a little insecure at the sight of your nice, perfectly maintained middle class home. He worried that you would have a conniption fit at the sight of the house he shared with his father.
"Thanks for everything today, Eddie Munson."
He stared at you, wondering what was going through your mind. But instead of inquiring, he let you go. You waved a quick goodbye at the brown-eyed boy before disappearing into the house.
☾
I am the son
And the heir
Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar
I am the son and heir
Of nothing in particular
☾
"Bless us, oh Lord, and these gifts which we are about to receive from your bounty. Through Christ our Lord we pray, Amen."
Dinnertime in the Buckley household was underway. From what you could tell, your parents had no clue that you skipped school that day. Shoveling mashed potatoes onto her plate, your mother looked at you and Robin.
"So, girls, tell us about your day."
You both exchanged identical looks before your parents could notice something was off. The eldest Buckley daughter responded with haste.
"My day was good. Not much homework with winter break coming up."
Your mother smiled at you. "I'm so excited for Father Humphrey's service on Christmas Eve. Aren't you, Richard?"
Grumbling something about being up late on a holiday, her father shrugged. "How about you, Robin? Did anything interesting happen at school today?"
You could see the internal battle in Robin's head, trying to think of a proper thing to say.
"Oh, yeah. I was selected to do a new song in band. So I practiced that a lot today."
Melissa Buckley giggled. "That's great news, Robin. A solo? You're so talented, sweetie."
"No, not a solo. More of a… duet."
"And who is the lucky boy, dear?"
You knew that the duet was with a girl, which is the main reason why Robin was so excited about it to begin with. But Robin knew the protocol.
"Uh, Kevin… Kevin Brown." Totally made up name.
Your father finally spoke, his mouth full of food. "See, Y/N, why aren't you more like your sister? If you keep avoiding boys, the whole town is going to think you're one of those… homosexuals."
"Richard!" your mother scolded, straightening up in her chair.
"What? You know I'm right. The girl is seventeen. Prom is coming up. I've never heard a single boy's name come out of her mouth. She spends too much time with that Wheeler girl, and you know they're a bunch of sinners."
Resisting the urge to flip the entire fucking table, you remained stone-faced as you responded. You could feel Robin kicking your leg underneath the table.
"Actually, father, I have plans with a boy this week."
He snorted. "Is that so?"
You politely dabbed your mouth with the expensive cotton napkin, face red with silent anger, then stood up from your chair.
"Yes, and he agreed to teach me how to drive. So maybe I can get my license in the spring."
Your mother set down her silverware. "Darling, is that really necessary? What's this boy's name?"
"Eddie Munson."
Slam.
Richard Buckley pounded a fist on the table, then pointed at you. "I forbid this. You know what kind of reputation that family has. His father is a drunk and a heathen."
"Please…" Robin pulled on the edge of your shirt. Not worth it, she mouthed at you.
You looked your father directly into his eyes, the color so much like your own. But he didn't back down.
"I forbid this, Y/N," he repeated coolly. "If I see you with that Munson boy, you'll be spending your entire senior year in a private school, where you can focus on your studies and repent."
☾
When you say it's gonna happen now
When exactly do you mean?
See I've already waited too long
And all my hope is gone
☾
(song lyrics credit: "How Soon Is Now?" by The Smiths)
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okay so after that video was posted of the screams at the radio station, i remembered i wanted to look up info on what these episode titles mean and i think it gives some insight as to what the hell is going on at that radio station. so yeah let’s get into it 👇
first things first: the episode titles of the first 6 episodes has been released via jeff sneider. apparently sneider is an award-winning film critic so idk i imagine this would be legit considering he wouldn’t want to lose his credibility considering his status?? but who knows
episode 1: the crawl ( i wrote about this episode when they first announced the title)
episode 2: the vanishing of ***** wheeler (personally i think it’s karen going missing. it just makes so much sense to me. she had her own poster for s4. she has had contact with the mindflayer when she tried to have an affair with billy when he was a host. there’s interesting parallels between karen and the creel family. like karen is going missing i just know it. and nancy also said in s4 that something happened to her mom in one of the visions vecna showed her!)
episode 3: the turbow trap (ok so apparently a turbo trap is an acoustic tool?? so my assumption after reading up on it, is that a turbo trap basically absorbs the bass through the tube of it because there is a hole on the top of it and depending on the size of hole, dictates the air flow which then puts out a certain frequency. basically, the more air a turbo trap can “trap”, the lower the frequency it can reach. i imagine they are going to be creating a big turbo trap involving music and/or sound since that is a deterrent for vecna and it also attracts the demo bats?? and they’re also filming at the radio station a lot and radio stations are frequencies (think FM and AM radio stations you go to to listen to music or the news or whatever))
episode 4: the sorcerer (i mean my immediate thoughts went to el, but then after reading some D&D lore about the connection a sorcerer has with dragons (imagery/mentions of dragons throughout the seasons and the painting was of the party up against a dragon), a possible touch of a demon (vecna/mindflayer), and the mention of how they’re competitive to the usefulness of wizards (will the wise) in a party… i’m like holy shit is the sorcerer potentially WILL????? like will finally evolves to becoming a sorcerer in s5?? or the sorcerer is el and will remains the wizard and we get the super duo willel???)
episode 5: shock jock (this is the definition of a shock jock. i’m thinking which character would fit this description and i say it’s murray. that would also make sense as to why he’s filmed there at the radio station. remember murray’s character was introduced as someone who was investigating the russians and the lab and all that, so for him to start a radio station being the “humorous, controversial guy” in all this mess makes 100% of sense to me lmao)
episode 6: escape from camazotz (i feel like this title gives some insight as to what the hell was going on in the new footage of screaming at the radio station. a camazotz is basically a death bat. i assume it’s the demo bats making a comeback from s4. but here’s the thing: a camazotz is described in one description from some computer game to have a very specific screech. if this screech, hits an enemy god then the sound wave will echo. just think back to the explanation of the turbo trap and what that does. so yeah, i think camazotz are at the radio station and the screeching was THEM. the screams sounded so chilling thinking it was steve or someone else, but i don’t think it was human screams! i think they were demo bat screeches 😎 also, steve was attacked by one of these things so idk does he have some connection with them now and that’s why they’re after him???)
#so much was happening while trying to write this post#i feel overstimulated and i have a headache lmao#byler#<- target audience#karen wheeler#vecna#el hopper#el byers#will byers#murray bauman#steve harrington#stranger things#stranger things spoilers#st5 spoilers#st5 leaks#st5 speculation#stranger things analysis#stranger things theory#stranger things theories#stranger things 5#stranger things s5#stranger things season 5#st5
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Jump then fall | Steve Harrington x reader
Chapter one - everything has changed
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Summary - after 7 years of being split apart from your childhood friend Steve you return to hawkins after your younger sisters tragic death, and parents messy divorce. But the Steve you came back to isn’t the same Steve you left behind.
"Steve!" Steve was surrounded by two of his new friends, Tommy and his girlfriend Carol, as I skipped up to him. They were both in 8th grade like Steve. carol looked me up and down as I stood in front of the trio. Steve had an annoyed look on his face from the moment I opened my mouth. Ever since he became friends with Tommy and Carol, it seemed as if I was just another inconvenience for Steve. "What?" the words are harsh as they come out of his mouth, almost like he was stabbing me right in the heart. But despite the achy feeling in my chest, I continued to talk. "wanna come over after school? My dad is working, so he won-"
"God, you are so annoying," Steve scoffs, which makes my brow furrow together in confusion. Steve has been a sweet boy ever since the moment I met him in kindergarten, but the moment he entered the 8th grade it was like a switch flipped inside of him. He no longer cared about his mother or his real friends he only care about popularity, girls, and being an absolute asshole to everyone around him. "Wh-what?" the words come out quiet and meek, the confusion still setting in as my eyes flicked from him to Tommy and then to Carol. Both his friends chuckled, probably because of the tears pooling in my eyes. "I said, you are fucking annoying! can't you go find someone else to cling onto?"
It seemed like time had stopped. Everyone around us stared, some laughed, and some whispered. Was I sent into a parallel universe because this wasn't the Steve I had grown to know? My chest heaved as I blinked back tears. "I-I'm sorry I thought-I thought-" I couldn't get the words out fast enough because Steve was shouting again before I could finish my sentence. "What that I was, your friend? I only hung out with you 'cause I felt bad that your sister died" This wasn't about Sara. He didn't need to bring her up. He knew it was a sore subject. The wound was still fresh. He knew it was still fresh. This felt like he was sticking a knife into that barely healed wound.
I want to punch him; I want to tackle him down to the ground and kill him just because he brought up my sister. "Your mom didn't even like you, so why should I? She dodged a bullet, leaving you." Maybe it was my mind making it up, but it felt like everyone around me was cackling at his words, at my tears, at my fists clenching and unclenching themselves. it hurt, it hurt so bad because I trusted him. I thought he was my best friend, but he wasn't. he was an evil lying bitch.
Before he can say anything else, I'm running away. I ran out of the school and to the group of telephones that stood outside against the school. I immediately punched in my father's work number as heavy sobs racked through my body. The phone rang a good three times before the secretary, Flo, answered the call.
"Hello, this is Hawkins police station. My name is Flo. How may I help you?" Flo was an older lady with dark hair and big, round glasses that sat on the brim of her nose. I sniffled before wiping my eyes. "He-hey Flo, can I talk to my dad?" I asked. Flo must've not noticed I was crying because she instantly transferred me to my father. The phone rang once before my dad answered, "Yeah what ya need?" Dad asks, "Da-daddy can you-you come get me?" I asked through sobs. I could almost hear the confusion in his voice as he asked, "What's wrong? What happened?" I don't answer due to the sobs that continue to erupt from my body. My brain was asking the same question repeatedly. Why would he do that to me? I thought we were friends. "I-I-please Dad," he grumbles quietly, "alright I'll be there in a few minutes."
I stood on the sidewalk with my arms wrapped around my body, waiting. Tears were still streaming down my cheeks when my dad's blazer pulled up beside me. I quickly get into the car, throwing my backpack in the back seat, and slamming the door shut before curling up in a ball, leaning my head against the glass. My father didn't immediately begin driving, instead deciding to interrogate me. "What happened? Did someone say something to you?"
"Steve," I whispered as more tears fell down my cheek. "Wh-what'd he do?" he asked, brows curling into a furrow. Dad knew Steve as a sweet boy, not someone who could ever hurt me. "He-he said...said I was annoying a-a-and that I was clingy." I said through sobs "And he-he said he was only my friend because he fe-felt bad because Sara die-died, that, m-mom didn't like me so why should he, a-and that she do-dodged a bullet leaving." His blood was boiling, I could tell. His face turned red, and he clenched his fists. Before I could even ask him what he was doing, he was already out of the car and halfway towards the front door.
-
I wasn't a total nerd or loser. I was just normal, but I wasn't a Heather or a Carol. I was just me. I wasn't even the attractive type of normal person like Nancy Wheeler. I was just average. I was standing at my locker waiting for my friend Stephanie. We always met up at my locker before walking to English. Steph was popular. Sometimes I ask myself how I scored a friend like her. She was beautiful and kind. Everybody liked her and everybody had a reason why. The boys liked her because she was pretty, and the girls liked her because she was kinder than the other popular girls. Her curly hair bounced as she sauntered up to me. Her lips formed in a sweet smile as her hands pressed against her hips.
Her hair was pulled into a ponytail and a green bow was placed in her hair to match her green cheerleading uniform. "You coming to the game tonight?" she asked as she leaned her body against the locker next to me. "Maybe I Dunno. I have a lot of homework tonight," I whisper. I'm momentarily distracted by Steve walking by with his arm around his new plaything, Lisa Franklin, a cheerleader like Steph, but unlike Steph, Lisa was an absolute bitch. Despite the hurtful things Steve Harrington said to me, my crush on him never completely disappeared. Sometimes it felt like it was hidden away, but it was always there, simmering beneath the surface.
Whenever I saw him walk by or heard him speak in any of our shared classes, my heart would skip a beat and my feelings for him would come flooding back. It was frustrating and confusing, but I couldn't help the way I felt. I feel two arms wrapping around my body, drawing my attention away from Steve. I glance over and see that it's Shawn Peterson. My relationship with Shawn is a bit complicated. We do things that most people in a romantic relationship do, but we don't use labels because he 'doesn't like labels'.
Shawn's a football player who's popular enough to be kind of friends with Steve. His hair is a dark, chocolate brown that falls in natural waves, framing a face that is both masculine and handsome. But it's his stunning brown eyes that steal the show, sparkling with an intensity that could make any girl weak in the knees. "So, you coming tonight?" he asks as he presses a kiss to my neck. I shrug my shoulders. "Maybe still Dunno though," I whisper. He groans as he presses a kiss just below my ear. "c'mon my parents aren't home tonight; we can go to mine afterward," I hum as I turn so I'm facing him. If I go, I have to tell my dad I'm at Steph's house and if I do that, I have the risk of him calling her parents to verify.
despite the risks, I smile up at him and whisper, "yeah okay sure."
-
I sat on the bleachers watching as Steph cheered. my hands were buried deep into my pockets as I zoned out. No matter how much I loved Steph and Shawn, I'll always find high school football games a little boring. I didn't understand football and no matter how many times Shawn tried explaining it to me, I always left the conversation a little more confused than I was before. I feel someone sit down beside me, but I don't care enough to look to see who it is.
"hey," an all too familiar voice whispers. That makes me look up because I haven't heard that voice talking to me in years. Steve Harrington sat next to me, dressed in the same outfit he had been wearing at school earlier that day. I couldn't stop my heart from beating a mile a minute, and my hands beginning to shake. I can't tell if I'm nervous because I'm scared or because I have feelings for him. "What?" I mutter back, my voice a little harsher than I expected. Despite the fact he had been so mean to me back in 7th grade, I never wanted to be mean back. I couldn't get myself to do it.
"You here for Shawn?" Steve asks, his left hand tapping away at the metal bench. I nod replying "Yup" he hums as he nods awkwardly "Sooo...is he your y'know boyfriend?" I shrug "It's complicated..." he nods, a quiet hum coming from his lips. Why did he want to talk now? He hasn't talked to me in 3 years, but now randomly he wants to talk like nothing ever happened, like he never whispered to his friends when I walked by or spread rumors about me. "Why are you talking to me?" I ask brows curling in confusion as I stare up at him.
"wh-oh I-I just wanted to talk," he mutters back. he didn't want to talk for years before this, so why'd he want to talk now? After everything he's done to me, why now? I'm silent as I search his face for any signs that he's messing with me. But there's nothing, not a smirk, or some type of glint in his eyes, just brows furrowed together in confusion. I decided to look around to see if any of his friends were nearby snickering to themselves, but still, I didn't see any of them.
"wh-what are you looking for?" he asks. I quickly pivot my body towards him again. "Are you fucking with me again Steve?" he lets out a shocked little gasp before hurling into saying "No, no I'm not I just thought we could talk y'know since we haven't in a while" That infuriates me because he knows damn well why we aren't talking. "You know why we haven't talked in a while," I mutter as I scoot away from him. "c'mon y/n that was so long ago," he says, elongating the 'o' at the end of ago. I scoff rolling my eyes. "Yeah fuck you," I say as I scoot away from him a little more. He sighs defeated before asking, "How's your dad?" I shrug, muttering a quiet "fine," he nods awkwardly "You still live in the same house?" I shake my head. "No, moved a few years back."
We sit awkwardly, both of us not speaking as the football team comes running out on the field. Most of the people around us roar in applause and shouts of excitement, including Steve. he stands to his feet clapping before cupping his hands together in front of his mouth and shouting "Yeahhh Shawn!!" I cringe a little inside. Steve, like every other popular guy and athlete at the school, were filled with so much school spirit it made me physically cringe. he sat back down looking at me, as I stared at my feet trying to hold back laughter. "What?" a smile cracks to his lips as I let out a few quiet giggles. "Nothing...nothing" he laughs, and for a few quick minutes our old dynamic came back.
"Seriously? C'mon, what?" cover my mouth with my hand as I continue to laugh. I shake my head, refusing to say anything as our laughter dies down. And just like that, we were back to two estranged friends who hadn't held a conversation for more than 2 minutes for the past 3 years, almost. "y'know your dad punched me that day?" I look up at him, brows furrowing as I whisper a quiet "What?"
"He punched me when I was in eighth grade. " It all comes back, my father storming into the school after admitting to him what Steve had said to me. "good" I wouldn't normally expect my father, a grown man, to punch a 13-year-old, but in that instance, I don't blame him. If I was him and a guy like Steve had told my daughter the things Steve had told to me, I would've done more than just punched him. Steve laughs almost as if he was agreeing with me "Yeah...I was an asshole" I roll my eyes, was? Steve Harrington was still an asshole. "still" I say correcting him. Now it's his turn to ask "What?" I roll my eyes yet again as I say, "You're still an asshole", he frowns as he nods slowly "Yeah...I guess" At least he could admit it.
-
Once the game ended, I bid Steve a quiet goodbye and went to the parking lot. I wait by Shawn's car for about 10 minutes until I see Shawn walking towards it, duffle bag swung over his shoulder, and hair damp. Steve walked next to him, both chatting about who knows what. Shawn drops his bag onto the hood of his car before scooping me up into a kiss.
Returning his kiss, I wrap my arms around his neck. I try to enjoy the kiss, but unfortunately, I can't because I can practically feel Steve's glare. I pull away, eyes meeting with Steve's. His brows are knitted together in an angry, or jealous type of furrow, and his arms are crossed over his chest. "You did so good out there," I say, pretending like I wasn't zoning out every 10 seconds. "mhm" Shawn hums before pressing his lips back against mine.
Steve clears his throat, making Shawn and I pull apart yet again. "well I'm gonna go. "See ya later, dude... um, nice talking to you again, y/n," Steve says before he starts walking towards his BMW, that was parked a few cars down.
The drive to Shawn's house is short and quiet. The only noise present is the low hum of the radio, and our breathing. When we get into his room, his hands are almost immediately all over my body. His lips touch mine, and his hands slide up and down the sides of my body before deciding to rest comfortably against my hips. The room is already somehow hot, and we're both out of breath when the sound of the phone (which sat on his nightstand) begins to ring.
BRINGGGG, BRINGGGG, BRINGGGG.
The sound of the phones rings is shrill and cuts through the quiet house like a knife. Shawn groans before pulling away from me. He crawls up his bed before answering the phone. Leaning against the headboard, he says, "Hello?"" in a very annoyed tone. "Oh, hey dude...no you weren't interrupting anything." the last bit drips in sarcasm as he says it.
"Yeah...yeah she's here, what'dya need?" I know he's talking about me because no one else is here, but I don't have a clue about who he's talking to. His brows furrow in confusion as the muffled sound of the other person talking comes out of the receiver. Then he scoffs as he shakes his head. "No, I'm not gonna do that sorry Steve." Steve? Why would Steve be asking about me? "Dude, you can't just ask me to do that" Shawn's eyes flick over to me before he whispers "I've gotta go alright? yeah, yeah, see you later." Shawn says before hanging up the phone.
"What was that about?" I ask. He hums quietly before hesitantly saying "Um...he just wanted to ask me if he could copy my homework" My brows furrow. There's no way Shawn would have made a big deal out of copying homework. They always copied each other work, so there was no way that's what Steve had asked. There was no world in which Shawn would have answered like that to needing to copy his homework.
As I press my hands into the soft cushion of Shawn's mattress, I sigh and whisper, "I should go... my dad's gonna be pissed if he finds out I stayed out late." Shawn nods before asking "Need a ride?" I nod, pushing myself up off the mattress and to my feet. "Yeah, but drop me off a few miles out. Don't need my dad knowing you're there."
A few years back, after my father's divorce was settled, and I was adjusted in school, my father sold our old family house. Claiming there were too many bad memories there, then he promptly moved us out to a cabin in the woods, much to 12-year-old Me's dismay. The cabin had supposedly been my grandfather's. his father, aka my grandfather, skipped out on the 'wondrous' opportunity to live in the shithole, so it had been abandoned for years since my great-grandfather died. It's a shitty log cabin, two beds and one bath that sat in the middle of the woods.
I hate being at that place alone. The doors creek, and the trees around it whistle with every gust of wind. I swear I'm going to be murdered one day in it and it'll be all Dad's fault for moving us out there. I didn't know why he couldn't have just moved us into some moderately shitty apartment or even keep us at the old house.
-
Shawn's car slowly drives down a dirt road in the middle of the woods. His high beams shining ahead of us to make sure there wasn't some animal (or person) in our way. About halfway towards my house, Shawn stops the car. From there, it would be about a 10-minute walk up to the house. "I can walk you up there if you want me to," he says, his voice quiet as if he thought my father would somehow hear him all the way out here. "No, I'm fine...but thanks anyway. See you on Monday," I say as I push open the car door. I sling my bag over my shoulder as I begin the walk towards my house. Shawn waits until I'm out of sight from his car to turn around and it's the 5-minute drive back to the main road.
I arrive at my bedroom window. I don't even notice my dad stood leaned up against the door frame until I'm fully inside my room. I'm left staring at my father, who has his arms crossed over his chest, angrily glaring at me. "WHERE THE HELL WHERE YOU?" my mouth gaped open as I began to say something but decided it was better not to. "GO ON TELL ME WHERE THE FUCK YOU WHERE" I let out a groan as I matched my father cross my arms over my chest "I was at the football game," I say with an eye-roll as I toss my backpack on my bed.
He scoffs "THE FOOTBALL GAME ENDED AT 8:30 SO TELL ME WHERE THE FUCK YOU'VE BEEN FOR THE LAST 2 HOURS!" his voice echoes through my room as I begin to talk, "God you're being so dramatic. A few friends and I went to Shawn's to celebrate after the game." his face is red, and his fists clench and unclench before he begins to shout again. "YEAH, WE'LL SINCE YOU DONT KNOW HOW TO FUCKING PICK UP A PHONE AND TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE I DON'T WANT YOU OUT OF THIS HOUSE FOR THE NEXT TWO DAYS!" my eyes widen as I shout "What! that's not fair! I'm babysitting this weekend!"
"well, you're going to call whoever you're babysitting for this weekend and tell them that you can't make it anymore, and I don't want you using this phone this weekend either," he says as he goes to unplug the phone from the wall. I let out a loud dramatic "ugh!" which is then followed by me shouting "I hate you!"
As he walks out of the room he says, "Yeah well I fucking hate you too" I dramatically sit down on my bed before shouting again "You're such a fucking asshole!" he turns brows furrowing as he says, "What did you just call me", I'm not scared of him, I never have. He thinks I am, but I never will. "I said you're a fucking asshole," I repeat as my arms cross over my chest. He scoffs as he says, "I'll show you how much of an asshole I can be" before slamming my bedroom door behind him.
I sit on my bed, arms crossed like a bratty toddler as tears pricked in my eyes. it wasn't fair. I've gotten home late a handful of times and he never gotten angry any of those times, why did he always pick and choose when he wanted to blow up? I wonder what it would be like right now if I was still in New York with my mother. would she be blowing up on me right now too? would she be cool about things like this? or was she strict? but I guess I'll never know because she gave up on me and our family.
I feel bad after fighting with him, I always feel bad. I know deep down he loves me; he just doesn't really know how to show it anymore. I crave that fatherly love that gets rationed out from time to time. I think that's why we fight so much; I crave the affection; he doesn't know how to show it. when he's not working, he sits on his chair, or in his bedroom practically in a catatonic state staring at the tv or a wall, we eat dinner in our separate rooms we don't talk unless we're screaming at each other, or I've got my head laid in his lap as I profusely apologize for what had happened. we're both traumatized i know that we both lost so much, but he should at least try. he knows I don't have any other parental figures in my life, and he still chooses to be distant and cold.
I sigh arms falling to my sides, pressing against my soft mattress. sometimes in the spur of the moment I wish he had died, and I know he thinks the same about me. I always feel bad afterwards though. even though I live with him, I don't know my father at all, he's a stranger to me. the only time we feel like father and daughter is when he's bossing me around. it's absolutely bazar that I feel the same way about my father that I do my absent mother. it's actually like they're both absent in their own ways, dad emotionally, and mom physically. he totally gave up after sara died, I mourn my father in the same way i mourn my dead sister. I just want the old him back, the dad who chased us around the park, and took us out for ice cream, the dad who never even thought to yell at me even if i had stollen a car.
I just want him back.
-
Taglist
@sheisjoeschateau @nothankyou138 @gleefulleve @luluw-20 @skrzydlak @halflifejess @natalie-flo @castleallherown
#fanfics#x reader#stranger things#steve harrington x reader#fem!reader#joe keery#steve harrington#steve harrington x female!reader#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington fanfiction#stranger things x reader#stranger things season one
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thinking about being double trans in omegaverse
Like, transmasc Steve Harrington who presented as an alpha, but went ‘hmm that’s still not quite right’. So now he’s got two transitions going on that just confuse people who Don’t Get It, but he’s personally having a blast
#steve: I want birthing hips and enough chest hair they’ll start bringing back werewolf rumors in Hawkins#what’s difficult to understand here?#steve said he wants to be a mom but no not like that#steve harrington#stranger things omegaverse#pyreposting#steddie omegaverse
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tholomule family portrait 💛🤎 (full tholomule parent designs under the cut!)
the posthoot friday night inspired me to finish my mom and dad tholomule designs - their names are Atticus and Fiona 💛
Atticus is both boys’ bio dad, but Fiona is Matt’s biological mother and adopted Steve when she married Atticus. They both work in the Construction Coven which takes them away from home a lot, which is why Steve had to help raise Matt 💛 they attended Hexside, but worked in Latissa for many years before moving back to Bonesborough sometime during Season 1 (in order to put Matt into Hexside after Steve brought it to their attention he was being bullied at school).
(I also worked on designs for Atticus’s siblings, one of whom is Boscha’s three-eyed-mom - I’ll post those hopefully soon but yeah the matt and boscha cousins HC is so personal and real to me)
#steve is like 17 here and matt is 5#the owl house#toh fanart#steve tholomule#matt tholomule#toh steve#toh ocs#atticus tholomule#fiona tholomule#i have. SO many thoughts about this family bouncing around in my head#zach marcus was right when he said if we got tholomule family stuff we wouldnt care about the ships /j#i HC steve studied in the potions track bc his teachers suggested it for students wanting to join the EC someday#inspired partially by a fanfic i read#i also have many thoughts about his bio mom i named her opal but i will probably never design her cause she walked out on steve and atticus#so like fuck her! but shes part demon aka where steve got his horn from (and also his blue eyes)#i have never drawn the glandus uniform before it was kinda fun tbh#eartucks hair cutely @ fiona. please just one chance (yes i know its my own goddamn character LMAO)#steph draws#x
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Steve not having physically abusive absent parents, but an absent dad and an overbearing emotionally abusive mom
#stranger things#steve harrington#sad steve post#Steve’s mom has tried to have kids multiple times but has miscarriages#Steve found her after one when he was 10 and since then she has made him help her bury the unborn children#when he graduated his dad finally said “enough was enough and got her to stop having kids by leaving all the time and taking her with him#Steve often wonders what his life would be like if those kids survived#he was the only child she was able to have#his mom considers him to be a miracle and doesn’t ever want to leave him for fear of losing him#it took a long time to convince her to leave#whenever he wanted to leave or not bury the children or help her she would accuse him of not loving her and have a meltdown
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Another reason for why I hate the return of stancy in season 4 is that it completely undermines how in season 3 steve wasn't really into her anymore and, per his words, and a lovely love declaration, had another girl in mind. Yes robin told him she was lesbian and he completely accepted it and they become best friends and I LOVE that, I wouldn't want him to still be into robin. But it happened! Why would he suddenly be into nancy again with everyone telling him 'it's obvious you're both still into each other why wouldn't you try again' my boy actually got over it ok.
yeah, it was completely stupid. and honestly? they both deserve better than each other. I don't think Nancy should end up with anyone, I think my girl needs to be single and shooting people it's what she deserves and Steve, too, needs to learn that being in a relationship isn't everything and he has love all around him and he can just be without a romantic partner. so yeah, fuck whatever that was
#they seem to forget Nancy's whole problem with ending up like her mom too and how against it she was????#like yeah steve changed and he's better but he wants the life Nancy said she didn't want#i hate how they keep erasing characters growth it's lazy and it's so white straight man!!!hfjfk#there's so much that can be done for both characters like i know there's so many others and you can't give them all amazing plot lines#but come on#I'd rather steve die tbh lol there i said it
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I SHOULD HATE YOU
steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: [22.3k]
warnings: warnings: no use of y/n, enemies to lovers, reader and steve use foul language towards each other (bitch, asshole, ect). blood (one of them gets hurt...but not bcs of each other), eventual smut (oral: both m and f receiving, fingering, piv, multiple o's,) minors gtfo before i superkick you!!!
summary: You and Steve Harrington hate each other’s guts…or at least you should, that is until a camp outing reveals everything that you both have been trying to hide.
You desperately wanted to see what everyone else saw in Steve Harrington that you didn’t. All those words of how he changed so much and had this entire redemption arc when he decided to finally stop giving shit about stupid high school social orders and commit his life to be the esteemed and reliable babysitter.
Hell, even Robin Buckley, the one girl who really couldn’t stand him a few years ago, was now his best friend, and Nancy Wheeler, his ex-girlfriend, could actually stand to be in his presence without wanting to cringe and vomit because she actually dated him.
You just couldn’t see it in him no matter how hard you tried, not even the kids could convince you that Steve wasn’t all that bad anymore. If anything they gushed about how much they admired him. How he was the cool older brother figure that they all wanted and had wrapped around their fingers ready at their beck and call.
Everyone loved Steve, but to you it was just bullshit.
“Why the sad face, doll?”
Steve pouted feignedly, causing you to roll your eyes, slapping the flies away from your skin as you watched him pitch his stupid tent.
“I’m not sad. I’m more so annoyed.” You grunted out with a glare.
“I told you to bring bug spray.” He reminded shaking his head, clearly amused seeing you get angry at the innocent flies.
“I did, but it doesn’t fucking work and for your information, I’m annoyed because you’re here.” You said through gritted teeth, slapping your neck as another one landed but flew away before you could kill it.
Steve snapped the poles into place, engrossed with his task.
“Well if it makes you feel any better,” he chimed in, standing with a straight smirk across his face, “I’m not particularly happy with your presence either seeing as though you’re not doing shit besides standing there being a bitch.”
Your eyes widened, arms crossing over your chest as you stared at him in disbelief. But by this point it shouldn’t have been so surprising granted that you and Steve never stopped bickering, even when you both should have known to ignore each other.
“Oh, go fuck yourself, Harrington!” You shouted, turning on your heel and flipping him the bird as you walked away.
“Tell that to my right hand, sweet cheeks!” He called out with a whistle, reveling in the art of getting under your skin.
Nance and Jonathan exchanged amused glances, painfully familiar with how much you and Steve despised each other yet somehow got here alive without slitting each other's throats. But that didn’t seem like it was going to be lasting long seeing as though this was now the beginning to a very long night.
You plopped down onto the foldable chair, still wearing a scowl that didn’t seem to want to cease even with the distance you created between you and him.
“We barely got here and you’re already at each other's throats.”
Nancy shook her head not understanding why you both couldn’t be adults about this whole thing.
“He started it!” You insisted, pointing your finger in his direction.
Jonathan couldn’t help but jump in with a chuckle, feeling as if this was payback for all those times he and his brother Will gave his mom a hard time. Seriously, dealing with you both was identical to watching two toddlers tattle tale on each other for every little thing before toys and fists were thrown.
“So now you’re playing the blame game?” He suspected.
You clicked your tongue, sitting up straighter, shoulders pulled back as you crossed your legs and placed your hands on top of your knees, ready to mock Steve and his privileged life that he just had to leave behind for the day.
“Why couldn’t he just have stayed home in his stupid mansion, driving around in his stupid Beemer, where he could be stupid all by himself and leave us out of his stupid stupidity.”
You seriously looked like you could end him with your bare hands — and if they didn’t know better they’d let you have a go at it just to see how far you would get. Surely Steve would put up a good fight too, probably make it quick and easy so he didn’t have to hear your voice anymore, but you would definitely be taking your time with him.
“He’s the only one who’s ever been camping and if something happens then he’ll know what to do.”
Nancy attempted to reason with you, hoping you could see it through just this once, for just a couple hours.
You shrugged your shoulders, watching him in your peripheral vision.
“Whatever, as long as he stays away from me then I can make it through the next 24 hours.” You waved off.
But Jonathan lugged up a box, plopping it before your feet with a loud clatter coming from inside of it, staring at you with a smile.
“If you want to make it to at least tonight, I’d suggest you start getting to work.”
Cursing under your breath, you were beginning to rethink your choices of saying ‘yes’ to trip when you had not one outdoorsy bone in your body and surely no bone, not even a cell that could stand Steve Harrington.
But getting it pitched up yourself wasn’t all that bad considering the fact that the instructions were self explanatory and had images to make it easy to follow. It was that nagging, infuriating voice that belonged to Steve that was getting on your last nerve. Like a mosquito in your ear, he kept buzzing and buzzing and—
“Try again, you’re holding the pole backwards, smarty pants!” He called out, smirking to himself when you tried to ignore him by shutting him out and doing it at your own pace.
But ignoring him only fueled his determination to keep going, poking and prodding at your patience that was withering away by the second. Every snarky smartass remark was like nails on a chalkboard, causing your eye to twitch, teeth to grind, and self-restraint to grow weaker.
“Your tent is gonna fly away in the middle of the night if you don’t make use of those stakes!”
“You shoulda listened to me, I told you that pole was in the wrong slot!”
“How about you put a little elbow grease into it and stop trying to put it together like you’re the goddamn princess of the camp ground!”
Your blood was damn nearly boiling, knuckles going white as you shoved the stupid pole into the other side, trying to get the frame to stay together. But your anger and rushing only made it worse, the wobbling frame threatening to give out on itself if you tried to force it in anymore than you already had. His whiny voice and every taunt that came with it just made you want to take the pole and use it for something else — silencing him.
Nancy and Robin had scolded Steve multiple times, knowing that your fuse with him was ridiculously short. Eddie and Jonathan, well-acquainted with your dynamic, kept their distance, observing from the sidelines not wanting to be caught in the impending storm between you two.
Eddie watched you carefully, your jaw clenching, air pushing out of your nostrils and he was sure that if it was humanly possible there would be a hot steam coming from the top of your head.
“Knock it off, man, she’s getting pissed.” He warned his friend, taking a swig of his beer, while he darted between you both.
Steve however, wasn’t threatened in the slightest, continuing to provoke you with another snide comment.
“She won’t be pissed for long if a bear comes and mauls her in the middle of the night because she doesn’t know how to pitch a damn—”
That was the last straw.
“I’m gonna fucking kill you!” You screamed, ripping off the pole and storming towards Steve not caring how insane you looked.
Eddie quickly got on his feet, dropping his beverage and intervening just in time.
“Not so fast!” He lifted you off the ground holding you back as Jonathan managed to wrangle the pole out of your hands.
Steve was having a fit of laughter, hunching over himself and grabbing at his midsection.
“You’re so easy to piss off.” He cackled, shaking his head at you and giving himself an imaginary point for already getting under your skin in the first hour of being there.
“You’re such an asshole!” You fumed, continuing to struggle in Eddie's grasp.
He kept his hold tight knowing if there was any room left for you to get away, it would most likely end with warfare. And while he and your friends never liked to come in between your tumultuous relationship, they knew letting you both rip each other apart wouldn't do anyone good – even if it gave them some peace.
Nancy had had enough — the trip was supposed to be peaceful, getting to be one with nature and finally getting away from the kids for once, but of course, that wouldn’t happen seeing as though you and Steve acted like children possessed.
“Enough!” She shouted, bringing temporary silence as you both could feel the seriousness in her voice.
“You’re right, Steve is an asshole and because he feels so sorry, what he’s gonna do is finish pitching up your tent while we go to the lake to cool off. Got it?”
She turned towards him, her eyes widening, signaling Steve to comply for the sake of peace just this once.
But instead, he protested, standing up defiantly, “Hell no! I wouldn’t even pitch her tent if—”
“I’m not asking you, I’m telling you.” Nancy interrupted, not leaving any room for negotiation because at this point it was futile.
Robin gestured to the partially completed frame with a small shrug.
“It’s the least you can do, half of it is already done.” She said, hoping to lighten his mood about it.
Reluctantly Steve huffed, glaring as he made his way over to you, faces only inches apart as everyone began to sigh, seeing as though you’d both be starting again. Eddie gripped you tight, not even giving you any wiggle room to try anything.
“You’re lucky Robin’s staying in your tent because if she wasn’t, I wouldn’t even think about finishing it.” Steve rasped begrudgingly smirking because you were a prisoner in shackles.
But you jutted your neck forward as if you were about to headbutt him which caused him to flinch back, holding his arm out front of his body. That alone made you cackle, just a taste of what you could have done to get him to shut up.
“Get to work, boy scout.” You sneered.
Throwing Eddie’s arms off your midsection, you brushed right past him going towards your bag to get out a bikini to change into while the rest of them whispered their scoldings, particularly punctuating the importance of Steve not messing with you anymore because they couldn’t stand it.
Jonathan nudged Steve’s shoulder, a pleading expression on his face.
“Would it kill you to not be such a dickhead to her for one whole day?”
Steve dramatically gasped, wrapping his arms around his own neck pretending to suffocate, “Y-yes… I-I can’t breathe, no oxygen!”
His best friend rolled her eyes, unimpressed with his childish behavior “You’re such a dweeb, I swear.” she said, smacking the top of his head as she walked past him and followed you to the bathrooms.
“You heard her, get to work.”
Nance snapped her fingers, pointing sharply at the tent hoping that for once he’d listen.
Jonathan and Eddie decided to serve as watch guards knowing that if no one was here to watch him and make sure he did what he was told, he would probably let you sleep with a half assed tent while Robin stayed with him and Eddie.
Maybe all you needed was to get as far away as possible from him… for as long as you could.
Stepping into the lake, the water felt nice against your skin, cooling down the sizzling blood still rushing in your veins and easing your body to a state of relaxation. If you closed your eyes hard enough and let the sun bask down on your face, you could pretend as if he wasn’t just a few feet away from you, grumbling like a whiny child forced into time out to write a hundred sentences.
You honestly should’ve known better than to agree to come along the trip knowing Steve was going to infect it with his existence, but your friends had convinced you otherwise, selling it as an opportunity to get out of Hawkins for a weekend and just enjoy each other’s company.
If you had known that Steve was going to be even more of a pain in the ass than usual, you would have never even thought about getting into Eddie van and driving all the way here with no other means to leave.
“I just don’t understand how he’s nice to everyone but you.” Robin pondered aloud, trying to understand the mystery between your relationship.
“It’s because he wants me dead, Robin, simple as that.” You deadpanned, seeing no other explanation to it other than pure hatred.
“Don’t be ridiculous, he doesn’t want you dead.” Nancy laughed, brushing off your comment knowing that Steve didn’t hate you that much.
“Oh my bad, I meant that he wants me to suffer a long excruciating death by letting his ego take up all the space in the room.”
Your voice leaked of sarcasm, eliciting laughs from the girls who found humor in what you saw as the truth.
Robin and Nancy knew there was no way the both of you could really hate each other as much as you both liked to think you did. If you really did hate each other for real, then you wouldn’t even dare to tolerate each other's presence but you both did — and while sure most times it was for the sake of your friends, by now one of you should’ve been fed up enough to leave.
Their laughter faded, Robin staring at you with a mischievous smirk as you waded in the water, enjoying the temporary peace. Perhaps she could be out of line with the thoughts brewing up in her head, but it was just a theory — a possible reasoning for you and Steve’s differences.
“Did you ever stop and think that maybe you two might get along better if you liked each other in a different way?” She wiggled her brows before biting her lip.
And like that, the peace was gone.
“Absolutely fucking not!” You shouted, rejecting it with clear disgust as you began splashing her in retaliation.
She giggled some more, trying to shield herself from the large splashes as Nancy swam off to the side, happy that at least you were having some fun now, even if the conversation still revolved around Steve. Robin swam through the splashes, wrapping her hands around yours to make them stop before you both began laughing, letting her hug you as an apology for her words.
“You’re so lucky I love you.” You grumbled, leaning closer to her to rest your cheek against her shoulder.
“Opposites attract, you know.” She continued to tease and you poked at her side, glaring half jokingly.
“Not him and I.” You declared sternly, gaze moving back up to the shore where the men still gathered near your tent.
It was nice not having to watch you stick your nose up and complain about the flies as if it was the end of the world. Without you in his ear and sights, he could finally enjoy just a smidge of the day, even if it was pitching his mortal enemy’s tent. If he didn’t think about it too much, he’d forget that it would be keeping you safe and you’d wake up the next morning, living another day to make his life miserable.
Tugging the tarp into place, he zipped it up and down making sure it slid smoothly before dusting off his hands and taking a step back to examine your his work. He tilted his head, shrugging his shoulders not in the mood to fix the lousy frame.
“Besides the crooked roof, it’s not that bad.” He announced, more so glad that his punishment was over.
Jonathan grinned, patting him on the back with a hopeful look as if this was the turning point.
“Well you should tell her she didn’t do a bad job then! Say something nice to her for once.”
Steive chortled looking over to him in disbelief before wagging his finger mockingly.
“Over my dead body.”
Jonathan sighed, sliding away from him and going to grab another beer for himself. Slowly but surely he was giving up on the idea of trying to get you and Steve to get along for the weekend. At this point, he and Nance’s plan was failing terribly, seeing as though neither of you said one good thing to each other all day and it probably would never happen.
Eddie rolled his eyes, resting his back against the tree as he watched you and the girls spinning in the water enjoying yourselves.
“Why can’t you both just put your differences aside and get along?” He wondered, seeing as though you were both capable of being happy, just why not with each other.
Steve darted his eyes up to his obviously, “She’s had it out for me since day one. Never liked me and never even tried to.”
Walking over to your bags, he picked them up along with Robin’s placing them in the tent, but he more so threw yours in, not giving a damn if the tent shook with it.
Eddie sighed, going over to fix it nicely into a corner when Steve turned away.
“To be fair, you haven’t tried to like her either so the odds were never going to be in your favor to begin with.” Jonathan pointed out truthfully.
How were the both of you ever going to get along if you held so much against each other without trying to see it through?
“You sure you don’t have a thing for her deep down? They always say that people who hate each other really just have to settle their differences in bed so they can see eye to eye.” Eddie snickered, patting his back stiffly.
The thought alone made Steve sick. Kissing you? Hugging you? Actually enjoying your existence? That sounded like a nightmare from hell if he’d ever dreamt one. Eddie and Jonathan found it a bit comical, even taking notice of their friends silence, his mind thinking up all the dirty and—
A hard smack landed on Eddie’s arm.
“I don’t know where the hell you heard that from, but I wouldn’t even sleep with her if we were the last two people on Earth.” Steve sneered, nose sticking up with disgust.
Edide rubbed at the skin, he and Jonathan watched as Steve walked away, tugging his shirt off and beginning to make his way into the lake without another word. They knew it was inevitable, the hatred that was brewing in his bones for you, was just a ploy for something else — something you and him didn’t see quite but everyone else did.
“Twenty they finally kiss?” Jonathan challenged, turning to him with an open hand.
Eddie cackled, smirking smugly.
“Twenty-five they end up hooking up tonight,” he added to the wager and to the lines that you and him would cross.
“Deal.”
You rolled your eyes, detaching yourself from Robin catching the sight of Steve inching his way into the lake. Soon after Jonathan and Eddie followed suit, running in like chickens with their heads cut off and splashing all of you with their boy-ness.
It frustrated you more than the way it should have made you angry — the way all your friends could seamlessly get along with him as if he wasn't the worst person you ever met. He even embraced Jonathan in a bromance hug as if at one point in their lives they didn’t despise each other for the girl they both liked.
It was so… confusing?
You let them bask in the presence of Steve, knowing that while you didn’t enjoy time with him, you would never try to rob the rest of your friends from it. Instead you went off on your own, going in just a bit deeper for some privacy as they lingered a few feet behind you.
“Don’t go too far out!” Nancy called out to you knowing you weren’t the best swimmer.
“I know, mom!” You singsonged, looking up at the sky and taking it all in — random cloud shapes and the birds that flocked above.
The camp ground was two hours out from Hawkins, tucked away in a nicer part of town, of course, Steve was the one who suggested the place. Nevertheless it was actually breathtaking, a nice contrast to the small town that you all came from which didn’t have a lake that compared to this, just good ole’ Lover’s Lake and Sattler Quarry.
This would probably be your first and last time camping, so you were trying to make the most of it, not letting the little scuffle totally ruin your experience. You had wished you brought your polaroid along, wanting to snap photos of the view to remember it by but in hindsight it was better to live in the moment.
“Let’s play sharks and minnows!” Robin announced cheerfully, wanting to seize the moment and do something fun she remembered from childhood.
You didn’t pay them any mind, your silence serving as an answer that you’d be sitting that game out and enjoying watching them instead.
Steve cupped his hands around his mouth, shouting loudly, “I call shark!”
They erupted in shrieks, splashing their way farthest from Steve, getting a head start since he was a skilled swimmer.
Eddie, who was a distance away yelled out, “Ready, set, go!”
Steve didn’t even bother mapping out everyone else, they weren’t his prey, you were.
“Better get moving, princess!”
Steve wore an irritatingly smug look, catching your eyes before he dove under the water and made his way towards you.
Your eyes widened, flaring your arms back as you attempted to doggy paddle away from him but it was obvious that he had the upper hand with his skill set. The tips of your toes started to slip from the ground, water pushed up to your collarbones as you still tried to get away from him without drowning.
It was futile trying to lose him, you didn’t even dare to inch further back knowing by then the water would submerge you fully. Instead you opted to sweep the water against him the closer he got to you, though he was unaffected by it still swimming with ease.
“Steve, stop! Go away!” You shouted, kicking your legs trying to get him back.
“Gotcha!” He grinned, popping his head out of the water to stand up straight and wrap his arms around your midsection
You pushed at his chest, trying to get away. “You dickwad! I wasn’t even playing!”
“Too bad!” He stuck his tongue out at you, gripping your skin just a tad tighter and hoisting your legs around his hips.
“Steve put me down, I swear to fucking…oh my god!” You exclaimed, quickly moving your arms around his neck when you felt the woosh of water against your back when he moved you both deeper into the water.
You watched your friends over his shoulder become smaller and smaller, until they were little specks on the shore waving with shit eating grins on their faces knowing that Steve wouldn’t actually do anything to hurt you.
Despite how disgusted you were being so close to him, you had no choice but to hang on for dear life. Steve gave you a bit of height with you over his hips, and had it not been for that, you’d be drowning by now.
“S-Steve, please I can’t swim!” You begged, eyes finally daring to meet him and for once you weren’t looking at him with such disgust but with desperation.
His face contorted with surprise, eyebrows raised and mouth held wide open before tugging up into a lopsided smirk.
“Never thought I’d ever hear that word come out of your mouth… let me hear it one more time?”
His grip barely went slack as you whimpered, using your legs to jerk him back to you before you slapped his chest, fingers gripping his biceps under the water and letting your nails dig painfully into his skin.
“Get me back to the shallow! Right now!” You growled, watching as he winced a bit hissing in a sharp breath feeling the sting.
Seriously, if you were a better swimmer, you’d be out of his grasp by now and holding his head underwater until he floated like dead weight. He had the advantage over you, but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least put up a fight.
“What’s the magic word?” He teased, exhaling as your nails eased out of his skin yet somehow you still held on to him not wanting to take a risk no matter how revolting he was.
“I. hate. you!” You screamed, starting to thrash around in his arms hoping that your struggle would annoy him so much that he’d bring you back to the shallow just so he wouldn’t have to deal with you.
But instead, he loosened his grip again, using it against you because just as he suspected, you seized your movements immediately, looped your hands around his neck, clinging to him like a koala.
“Still waiting on that magic word.” He singsoned, not being too cruel this time around, wrapping his arms securely around your frame, not actually thinking he’d ever let you go.
You hoped your friends couldn’t read your lips from there or else you wouldn’t hear the end of it.
“Please.” You gave in, whispering it against his neck.
The hair on the back of his neck stood tall, shivers creeping up his spine feeling a twinge of sympathy for you, but not too much to spare, when you cursed his name right after the fact. Satisfied, he spun around, guiding the two of you back to the bank where you were more comfortable.
Letting out a breath of relief, you relaxed your arms and slightly loosened your legs from around his waist, a little surprised at yourself for being able to stand his skin sticking to yours for so long. This was the most contact you and Steve had ever endured with each other. All of the previous encounters consisted of you smacking him and him chasing you with something gross like a dead roach.
“You didn’t think I’d actually let you drown, did you?” Steve asked, looking down at you.
You rolled your eyes, staring up at him past your lashes. “I don’t know, you’re quite the asshole so I thought so.”
He ran his tongue over the inside of his cheek, tsking disapprovingly.
“Such a shame you think so lowly of me,” he said acting hurt as rolled your eyes yet again, “here’s payback for earlier.”
His arms abruptly left your body, letting you actually slip out of his hold watching as you went down with a screech that quickly died. You shut your eyes tightly, arms pushing yourself up to the surface where you coughed roughly, his stupid laughter filling your ears when you came to.
“I still hate you!”
You huffed, splashing him once more before trudging towards your friends who watched with glee, thankful for the five minutes of free entertainment that didn’t involve them.
Steve stood where he was, arms crossed, face dripping with lake water, but still wearing a wide smile, more than happy with his little stunt and the fact that he got your blood pressure rising. Something about riling you up, filled him up with a sort of satisfaction, yet he wouldn’t ever admit that you were the only person who could get under his skin the same way he did you.
Surprisingly enough, he stayed away from you during the rest of the time in the lake. Instead, he bothered Eddie and Robin with his stupid ideas to race across the lake and find the biggest pebble to see who could skip it the farthest.
Thankfully for you, you got the bathe in the sunlight, enjoying conversation with Jonathan and Nancy who at first bothered you about the whole you in his arms thing, but eventually gave up when you gave them the death stare. You obviously were holding back something considering you never missed a beat to berate Steve, but this time around, you didn’t even want to get into it — they wondered why?
As the sun slowly began to tumble, casting oranges and pinks in the sky, you felt your fingertips becoming overly pruney, cueing your desire to get out and get freshened up for the evening.
“I’m gonna go wash up.” You announced raising a hand over your forehead to block the light as you stared out at them in the water.
“We’ll be out in a bit!” Robin called through her laughter, continuing her fun in chasing Eddie and Jonathan around in the water with a stick she had found.
You carefully tiptoed through the rocks, making your way up to the camp ground. The tent wasn’t half bad, and to your surprise Steve had actually followed through on his task of finishing it. You’d guess that if he wasn’t so intimidated by Nancy and her threats, he wouldn’t even think about doing it, nevertheless at least now you could say Steve did something useful for you for once, even if it was against his will.
Your bag was already conveniently placed in your tent, so you grabbed your toiletries, a clean towel, and your change of clothes before you walked over to the communal bathrooms where the showers were also located. Thankfully it was just you and your friends on the grounds, so it was fairly clean and had more privacy than usual which was always nice.
You pulled the curtains to one of the stalls back, assessing the area before putting your things down on the shelf and hanging your towel on the railing, stepping in and pulling the curtains closed. Stripping off your swimwear, you wringed out the excess water and hung them on the adjacent wall letting them air dry for the time being.
Cranking the lever, the shower head spritzed alive, letting semi-warm water sprinkle across your skin, rinsing you free of the lake water. You hummed to yourself, raking your fingers through the knots and tangles of your hair, doing your best to get them out before rubbing the skin over your neck and chest.
“You really should have picked the stall away from the sunlight.”
Steve’s voice echoed, halting his footsteps in the doorway as he stared at the figure behind the curtain, the only other person in here was you and he could definitely tell by your pedicured toes peeking under the gap of the shower.
Clenching your jaw, your hands stopped its movements over your body, turning your head over your shoulder as you were met with Steve’s shadow staring right on the other side. If you squinted hard enough you could make out the smirking features on his face, but to your obvious surprise all you could do was shriek.
“Oh my god!” You shielded yourself with your arms as if that would help, seeing as though the curtain alone wasn’t doing its job of saving you your dignity.
He held his hands up, gesturing his arm up and down at the curtain.
“Relax, I can only see your shadow because of the sun.” He explained nonchalantly, walking into the stall beside yours and switching the water on.
You swallowed, still not trusting him completely as you stepped forward, peeling back the curtain a bit to see if anyone else was coming that way.
“Are the rest of them coming? I need to save myself the embarrassment and move to another stall if they are.” You asked rapidly, really hoping that neither of your friends or any visitors would be greeted with your naked silhouette the second they stepped in there.
“They’re playing chicken in the lake so no, they won’t be coming any time soon.” He responded, sounding actually sincere for once, because while he enjoyed messing with you, he still respected your privacy enough to know setting you up like that wasn’t cool.
See… there were boundaries between your hatred, probably ones so low the bar was on the floor...but they were boundaries.
“Thank god.” You sighed, tugging the portion of the curtain closed and walking back into the stream of the water, squeezing some shampoo into your hands as you began lathering it through your scalp.
“By the way, are your tits pierced or were you just excited to see me?”
Your eyes widened, a gasp leaving your mouth while your fingers stopped. His incessant laughter bounced off the walls and rang in your ears like the worst kind of pain, wishing you had taken your chances earlier and at least tried to drown him.
“You’re such a pig!” You said, banging your hands on his side of the wall until his laughter died down scoffing.
He grunted, tapping your wall back harder. “Learn how to take a joke and stop getting your panties in a twist.”
“What’s a joke is that rumor about you being so largely endowed.” You began pretending to gag.
“I heard Stacy Burnham asked you if it was even in and when you said yes she was so disappointed.” You sassed sharply, hoping it would embarrass him enough to shut up.
“I didn’t even hook up with Stacy Burnham!” He retorted ridiculously, knowing that rumor was so absurd and untrue.
You rolled your eyes and wished he could see you, “Not surprised, it probably didn’t feel like much for you either when you’re packing less than three inches.”
Steve scoffed loudly, knowing that was definitely not true and it wasn’t just his ego talking.
“Oh trust me, you wouldn’t even be able to take half of what I’m packing.”
“A half inch? Yeah, cause I’d be too busy crying with disappointment.” You faked sobbed, flipping him off though he couldn’t even see you.
He didn’t have a comeback, clearly not in the mood to argue about what he was packing because truly you’d only believe him if you saw it for yourself. And trust him, he’d burn himself alive before ever thinking about seeing you naked or letting you see him naked.
That was just totally out of the question… and like he told Eddie, it would never happen even if you both were the last people on Earth.
“Let me borrow some soap.” Steve muttered knocking on your wall, hand dangling above your stall waiting for you to pass it over.
“No.” You chuckled, smacking his hand before you grabbed your body wash and rubbed it against your palms to create bubbles.
“Why not?” He coaxed, not putting his hand back down into his stall as you sighed and went on about washing your body.
“You tried to kill me earlier and let me drown.” You reminded him.
“And what would you call that little stunt back there when you tried to stab me to death?” He retorted.
You were quiet, rolling your eyes knowing that he wouldn’t let this go any time soon, so in order to save both of your energies, you simply picked up the bottle of shampoo, thrusting it up into his hand as he chuckled to himself and grabbed it.
“See! Sharing is caring, now, if you need to borrow some brains you know where to find me.”
“Shut the fuck up.” You snapped, trying to enjoy the rest of your shower despite knowing that the only thing that separated you both was a wall.
You showered in complete silence, only Steve knocking on your wall to give you back the products, fingers tapping against his palm to silently ask you for the next. After a few minutes you had finished, finally shutting the water off as you dried down.
You slipped your legs through a fresh pair of underwear, letting it snap against your skin as you worked the fitted cami over your torso and then slipped on the shorts that you rolled over your hips to stop them from falling.
Whipping the curtain back, you didn’t wait for Steve to finish, simply leaving him as you went back towards the tents to hang your still wet swimsuit over a tree branch and stuffing your things back into your bag.
After a few minutes he came out, walking over with his towel around his neck, sporting a loose t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants.
“Well you’re definitely getting eaten alive by mosquitoes tonight.” He shook his head at your rookie mistake, laughing along with it.
You looked down at yourself, much of your skin left exposed for the same flies that badgered you earlier to feast upon.
“Give me a break, I didn’t know there would be so many flies.”
He walked over to his stuff, plucking out the aerosol can and tossing it over to you, “Here.”
You caught it, looking over the bottle label as he spoke, “It’s the only brand of bug spray that actually works.”
“Thanks.” You mumbled, twisting the bottle open and misting it over your arms and legs, letting the product coat every inch with a light sheen.
You tossed it back, working it into your skin as Steve took his turn to spray it on his exposed arms and neck knowing from experience that waking up to a hundred fly bites was the most uncomfortable itchy pain to be in.
“How were the showers?” Eddie huffed, water dripped off his body as he made his way up to you both, the rest of them following behind.
“Fine, just don’t pick the stall directly at the entrance. Wouldn’t want anyone getting an eye full.”
Steve smirked as you turned beet red, tucking your face into your chest and walking to your bag to pretend to search for something.
Nancy wrapped her arms around herself, biting back the cool air that was coming in from the day winding down.
“Why don’t you guys get started on the fire so that way we can have dinner soon.”
Sunset was just nearly finishing up, only about a half hour of sunlight left before darkness would set in. Steve knew from experience that keeping the fire overnight would be the best bet at having means to some light and warmth.
He nodded, looking around for the items to get it going, “Yeah, sure, where’s the charcoal?”
“Charcoal?” Jonthan asked, confused, scratching the temple of his head, not remembering seeing it when you were all loading Eddie’s van that morning.
Steve nodded his head obviously, looking around at the group. “For the fire? I told you guys to pick it up.”
You sighed, standing up to face them with your hands on your hips. “Don’t tell me you guys forgot it.”
“Are we doomed if we say we did?” Eddie spoke, a guilty inflection in his voice, because he was totally in charge of that but it had slipped his mind.
Steve shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “Just means that now we have to find some sticks and leaves. Do it the old fashioned way.”
Robin the ever so considerate one, starting snapping her fingers, pointing between you and Steve biting back her sneaky smile.
“So stop standing around and start searching! We don’t want to lose daylight before then.”
Taking a deep breath in you held back your comments of how you didn’t want to go anywhere alone with Steve since he obviously had a death wish for you. However it was obvious that this was going to be a group effort, and if you wanted to make it out of here alive, you would just have to suck it up and follow Steve’s lead.
He stared down at your bare feet, pointing at your tent.
“Put some shoes on and let’s go.” He said, before the others smiled contently, running off to the showers and leaving you both alone again.
“This is the last time I’m ever camping.” You grumbled sliding on a fresh pair of socks and slipping your shoes on, bending to tie them up.
Steve tapped his foot against the grass, shaking his head at you and your ability to nit-pick every little thing.
“You know, it would be more enjoyable if you’d stop making every minor inconvenience a big deal.”
You finished off the ties with a tug, walking over to him and glaring at his hypocrisy with an instance you were all too familiar with.
“Are you really one to be talking Mr. I got mad at Dustin Henderson for using up all my hairspray even when my date flaked on me?”
He hated that you remembered that even when it had been months ago since it happened. Neither you nor Dustin let him live it down because it was the first time he let a girl get in between his extraordinary ability to be the charming babysitter he made himself out to be. Dustin, so annoyed with his attitude, didn’t ask Steve for any rides to the arcade nor did he visit him at Scoops for a whole two weeks.
Instead, you took on the babysitting role, driving him to the arcade, dropping him off to school, and even picking the kid up at Star Court when all his friends caught a ride with Steve to be dropped off back at their place. Steve thought Dustin was being ridiculous about the whole thing until you pulled up in your car, wearing the biggest smile as you rolled down your window and sent him a cold smirk.
“Not such a great babysitter anymore, huh?” You laughed, watching as his face fell and Dustin got into the passenger of your car, waving goodbye to his friends while you sped off.
Safe to say, Steve apologized to the kid, terribly sorry and embarrassed by his behavior and even throwing in a bottle of hairspray and a free banana split every time he came into Scoops as an apology gift.
The two of you followed the trail a few feet out from the campground, trucking through an uneven rocky path and outgrown bushes. He was clearly more familiar with the area given his experience, knowing exactly where to go, taking a shortcut that passed cut through the bumpy trail and led you to a small area of dirt and trees.
“We’re looking for sticks about this size, but really any twig or stick will do.” He spoke, reaching down to pick up a large stick and show it to you.
You looked around, eyes peeled out for the sticks that were scattered in the area.
“And what about leaves?” you asked.
“Those too, but they’ve gotta be dry, almost crumbly.” He specified, walking off to start the collection process.
“Got it.”
You and Steve worked the best when there was no talking involved, perhaps that's why your friends always suggested going out to see a movie at the theaters instead of at each other's homes where you both would clearly not give a damn about causing a disturbance. But despite that, right then you both were going a whole ten minutes without insulting one another or making threats to see the other dead.
When you picked up the wrong stick of a leaf that wasn’t crumbly enough, he just grunted, shaking his head until you dropped it and found another that would suffice. That system was working well so far, so maybe that was the key: limited talking.
“Go drop that pile off and come back for more, we’re gonna need a whole bunch to last until morning.” Steve instructed, noticing that you had already gathered quite a bit in your arms.
You peered into his arms, his pile about the same size as yours, maybe a little smaller.
“Want me to take some of yours?” You suggested, wanting to save you both a few more trips up there.
He nodded, carefully stacking them on top of what you already had, steadying the pile and removing the bigger ones to ensure it didn’t tumble over while you were walking down. When you got all that you could carry, Steve gave you a cautious look.
“Be careful and walk slowly, the path gets rocky when you get closer to the camp. If you fall, just scream and I’ll hear you.” He was so serious about it, like a true camp counselor, or as you liked to call him...
“Heard you loud and clear, boy scout.” You hummed, turning around and making your way carefully down the trail.
For once you actually listened to what he said, taking your time and not rushing your way down knowing it wouldn’t do you or him any good if you ended up taking a spill and losing all the fire starter then scratching yourself up in the process. You remembered the shortcut he took, a right turn that he conveniently marked with a X in the dirt. Just a little more walking before the campsite came back into view and still no signs of your friends being done yet.
You dumped the sticks and leaves near the outside of the fire pit that was in the center of the camp. Dusting your hands off and taking a deep breath, you looked back up the hilly trail where Steve was somewhere up there waiting for you to come back.
“C’mon, princess.” You muttered to yourself, feet taking you back there with fast steps trying to beat the sunlight.
Clearly the outdoors just wasn’t your thing, easily becoming winded despite the fact that the trail wasn’t that steep. But you were trying to cut yourself some slack because for a rookie, you kinda got the hang of keeping your balance and not getting lost through the unknown woods.
“H-how many more piles do we need? I can’t do this five more times.” You huffed, hands on your hips as you caught your breath watching Steve dump a few more sticks in a pile on the ground.
He peered over at you, wiping the sweat that beaded on his forehead with the back of his hand.
“Probably one more, will do.” He answered, strolling further up, just to grab a bit more in case.
You honestly didn’t know how a small town city boy like him was so good at things like this — usually he was only good at picking up girls and making a doofus out of himself when he didn’t know how to talk about anything else beside him.
Maybe it was those annual Harrington trips he took when he was a little boy or maybe he really was secretly a boy scout and been hiding it all along, either way, thank god it was him doing most of the dirty work and not you.
“Should I bring these down or do you want me to wait?” You shouted loud enough for him to hear glancing over at the piles he made while you picked a few more sticks up.
“You can— fuck!” He winced, clutching his palm in his other hand, starting to feel a sharp pain shoot in around the area.
Hastily you dropped the sticks, abandoning the pile and racing to where he was while trying not to fall so that you could see what exactly was going on. There was a pained look on his face, teeth biting into his bottom lip as he turned away and tried to shake it off. But alas you reached for his wrist, bringing his hand towards you to access.
“Shit, you’re bleeding.” You whispered, bringing the injured hand closer to see if the gash was deep or not, but you couldn’t quite tell with the small pooling of blood in the way.
Steve jutted his chin downwards, showing you the jagged stone responsible.
“I didn’t see it when I went for the stick.” He explained.
You nodded, releasing his wrist gently. “C’mon, we need to get it cleaned and bandaged before it gets infected.”
“I gotta grab the—”
“No!” You yelped, pulling him up by the collar of his shirt when he attempted to bend down for more sticks despite his injury.
He stopped, visibly stunned at your sudden attentiveness that was usually never present when it came to him.
“I’ll carry those, but you don’t pick up or hold anything else. If a splinter gets in there I’ll be the one needing to dig it out and it'll only hurt more.” You said sternly, shaking your head at him like he should have known better.
“I thought you liked seeing me in pain.” Steve smirked somehow still able to be a little shit even with a fucked up hand.
“I do,” You tilted your head, but sighed, “But I really don’t need the one person who actually knows what they’re doing to be the first one dead.”
“Fine by me.” Steve shrugged, forced to watch you pick up all the sticks and leaves by yourself, he followed behind you as you occasionally looked behind your shoulder to see if he was okay.
When you both finally made it back to the tents, you dropped the pile, pointing at the foldable chairs a few feet from the pit.
“Go over there.” You instructed, brushing past him with vigor as you went to your tent to retrieve the first aid kit you packed for emergencies like this, though you were really hoping you didn’t have to use it.
You flipped the case open, taking a look at all the materials it contained while you walked over to him, kneeling in front of him and deciding what you were going to do. Grabbing an alcohol wipe, you disinfected your hands before you tapped his knee.
“Show me.” You demanded, holding your hand out, until he reluctantly placed it in yours giving you a closer look at the gash.
The blood had stopped so you knew it wasn’t that deep of a cut that would require stitches or staples, but it most definitely needed to be wrapped up to prevent an infection and trip to the emergency room.
You reached into the kit for a fresh alcohol pad, ripping it open with your teeth as you steadied his hand in yours.
“Just get it over with already.” He muttered, head turning away anticipating the sting that was going to be worse than your nails digging into him.
“Don’t be a wimp.” You joked, swiping it gently over the area to get it clear from the drying blood and any outside contaminants. He didn’t pull back, only sucking in a deep breath from the mild burn but after a few seconds the worst part was done.
“See, not so bad, right, big boy?” You laughed, patting his knee again before throwing aside the bloodied napkin as he swallowed thickly, waiting for your next steps.
He watched you carefully, grabbing some sort of ointment, squeezing a small dollop onto your finger before you dabbed it over the cut making sure to coat it evenly. Then you placed two pieces of gauze over the top to keep it extra clean and enclosed.
You repositioned his arm, letting his elbow rest upright on his knee.
“I’m gonna tape you up now, so try not to get it wet, but if you do I can always rewrap it.” You told him, getting the tape ready.
Steve was surprised by your skill, expertly maneuvering the tape through his fingers, across his palm and over his wrist, repeating it a few times to ensure that the gauze wouldn’t budge and would keep the cut sealed tight.
“Where’d you learn how to do this?” He asked curiously, watching as you smoothed out the creases as you went.
You shrugged, doing one last wrap around for good measure, “I had a phase where I thought I wanted to be a nurse.” You grinned, teeth wrapping around the excess tape to rip it off before you flattened the remainder over his wrist.
He nodded slowly, stammering out,“T-thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.” You brushed it off, cleaning up the bloody wipes and putting the first aid kit back in your bag after disinfecting your hands once more.
The sun was nearly covered by the clouds, painting the sky a darker orange shade as nightfall threatened to spill over soon. At this point, the fire needed to be started, now — no more distractions and no more arguing.
“So?” You shot Steve a look, then back down at the fire pit, “Wanna tell me what I need to do to get this thing started or what?”
Steve was more than capable of getting it done himself with one good hand, but seeing as though you were pretty stern in his efforts to not carry a single stick, not even a paper light leaf, he knew this would be no different. Instead he moved to stay beside you, acting as supervisor just so he could make sure you were doing the right thing.
“You’re gonna wanna start by making a bed with the leaves.” He instructed, watching as you dropped down on your hands and knees to get low enough into the pit as you threw them in, trying your best to make it as leveled as possible.
“It looks good,” He praised, giving you a tight smile when you looked up at him waiting for the next steps.
“You want to do it the old fashioned way or do you want to use Eddie’s lighter?” He chuckled, knowing he’d pick the easy way just like you were going to.
“Fuck that, I’m not a cave woman, where the hell is the lighter?” You strided towards his and Eddie’s tent, rummaging through the metal heads duffle bag until you felt the familiar body of the lighter.
You went back into place, flicked it on and looked at Steve cautiously until he nodded, granting you permission to set the bed of leaves on fire. Blindlessly you passed the lighter up to him, watching as the flames slowly engulfed the leaves and began to crackle.
“Now start adding a few sticks. We’re gonna need to add more throughout the night to feed the fire.” He said watching as you carefully threw some in, doing your best to cover the bed beneath it until only a little of the fire was exposed.
“Alright, that’s good enough.” He bent down patting your shoulder and feeling the warmth of the fire starting to get hotter.
“Well that wasn’t so hard.” You grinned to yourself dusting off your hands and knees, happy with your outdoor accomplishments thus far.
“Technically the lighter made the fire.” He shot back, flicking it between you both as you rolled your eyes and blew the flame out.
“Oh shut it.” You muttered, going to busy yourself with something else while Steve put the lighter back where it came from.
You propped open the rest of the chairs, randomly placing them around everyones tents and two extra ones right in front of the fire pit. Steve was watching the fire, making sure it didn’t get too big or burned too slowly — so far the bed of leaves you built were holding up and it didn’t seem like it’d be going out until morning tomorrow.
After a few minutes the voices of your friends came tumbling out of the bathrooms, seeing them all dressed in their PJ’s that somehow showed they were more prepared than you. All of them decked out in long sleeves, hoodies, and sweatpants — god, you wished you got the memo.
“Damn this is cool! I’ve only ever seen a campfire in movies!” Eddie enthusiastically ran closer, peering into the bright orange pit.
You looked over at all of them, dramatically holding your arms wide open.
“Were you guys having a foursome or something?! Steve and I did all the work and he even got banged up in the process.” You said, walking over to him to lift and show them his injured hand.
Robin gasped, running up to his side to check up on him, obviously worried for her best friend, “What the heck happened.”
Steve shrugged looking over at you with a somewhat grateful look, “Grazed a sharp rock, but it’s fine. She wrapped it up and we’re all good to go now.”
“Well shit, sorry we took so long,” Jonathan apologized half-heartedly, while his mind was celebrating that you both actually seemed to work well together when it was needed.
“Eddie and Robin thought they saw a spider in the showers so we all had to take turns using one stall.” Nancy rolled her eyes, giving you an apologetic look, the both of you knowing Robin and Eddie were a tad bit dramatic at times.
“It’s fine, but you can make it up to us by cooking.” You grinned, you and Steve giving each other a sly look before you pointed at the icebox of food waiting to be cooked.
So you and Steve finally got to kick back… in silence of course.
You both sat in the foldable chairs, watching as the four worked diligently over the fire — Nancy holding skewers of hot dogs over the flame, Robin prodding at the potatoes wrapped in foil with a pair of tongs, Jonathan toasting the hot dog buns one by one, and Eddie feeding the fire with a few more smaller sticks.
He peered over at your silent figure, watching the way you zoned off into your own world, somehow right beside him yet a world away. You were probably thinking about something else, either all the remarks you wanted to snap his way yet were held back or maybe you were making a list of new ones to call him tomorrow.
But he cleared his throat, attempting to get you back here with him, “Do you uhh, want a drink?” Steve asked, breaking the silence.
You blinked, turning to watch him flip open the cooler to grab himself a beer while he looked back at you waiting for your request.
“Water, please.” You said, watching as he dug his non injured hand into the ice box to pull you out an ice cold water bottle, shutting the box closed.
“Thank you.” You said softly twisting it open to take a sip.
While doing so, you furrowed your brows, noticing the way that Steve struggled with the twist off since he was using his non-dominant hand. He almost went to put the bottle in his mouth to use his pearly whites as an opener before you quickly capped off your drink and stepped in.
“Give it here.” You said, taking the glass from his hand, and tucking the lid under your shirt to stop it from pinching your skin as you effortlessly twisted it open.
“Thank you.” Steve nodded with a small smile, taking it from you as you shook your head with a grin and went back to watching your friends.
Steve couldn’t wrap his head around how you could be so selfless but at the same time so selfish. You’d do anything your friends asked of you at the drop of a hat, maybe even without them asking to begin with — you’d just jump in and do it. But when it came to him, half the time you didn’t give a damn, ignoring every warning or piece of unwarranted advice he’d thrown your way.
It was utterly confusing, considering that you were the most selfless person to him today than you’d ever been before. You could’ve left him to deal with the cut by himself seeing as though he still had one good hand left, and honestly you could’ve left him to do the stick and leaf collecting all by himself… but you didn’t.
On a regular day if he even dared to ask for your help, the answer would be “no,” with no explanation other than the fact that you just didn’t want to have anything to do with him. So it struck a chord in his mind, wondering why now? It couldn’t just be because you both were in the middle of nowhere, he knew that much.
Why all of a sudden was there this shift, the one where you helped him without receiving anything back?
“How is the food coming along?” You whistled towards your friends.
Nancy smiled widely, holding one of the skewers up, “It’s almost done! Maybe two more minutes!”
Robin pouted, snapping the metal tongs to get your attention, “The potatoes need a bit more time, they’re still hard as rocks.” she huffed, resting her chin on her knees.
“Did you poke them with holes?” You wondered as she frowned and shook her head.
“Was I supposed to? I didn’t know, I’m sorry.” She apologized ridiculously for something that wasn’t a big deal.
You shook your head shooting her a reassuring smile.
“S’okay! They’re gonna cook through, but sometimes poking holes just speeds it up a bit… It's okay! If anything, we can have them for breakfast.”
“Okie dokie!” She smiled, happy that she didn’t entirely sit there for nothing.
He hated himself for watching you so carefully, taking notice of the bright smile you flashed against the moonlight and how your voice was so syrupy sweet. He never took notice of it before, but you had a radiance about you, something that everyone seemed to catch except him.
Maybe it was because half the time you were shooting daggers through him and screaming your lungs off, but now, for the first time, he felt like he was seeing a different side of you — the one he tried to fight off knowing for so long.
“Are you okay?” You furrowed your brows, waving your hand in front of Steve’s face.
He shook his head, snapping out of it and nodding awkwardly, “Y-yeah, I’m fine… you?”
“I’m okay.” You told him, turning your attention back to your friends.
Maybe it was your tiredness that was preventing you from being the bitch that you usually were to him or maybe you felt a little bad for him because of his injuries, but whatever it was filled the air with some sort of calmness that usually wasn’t around when he was in your vicinity.
Really, on most days, if you’d caught Steve staring at you, which most times he wasn’t unless it was full of revulsion, you would have snapped and told him to take a lap, but it was almost as if you could feel what his eyes were doing.
His gaze drinking you in slowly like the beer in his hands and trying to understand your craft. He didn’t stare through you, nor at you, but to you… trying to get under your skin in a way he hadn’t done before.
It felt…weird, so awkwardly weird. On a regular day the both of you could barely go two minutes without cursing each other out the second either of you spoke a word to each other. Now all of a sudden you both had your P’s and Q’s ready for each other along with genuine concerns about the other’s wellbeing?
God, you both couldn’t wait for it to go back to normal.
“Food’s ready!” Eddie called out, slicing through the unspoken tension.
You and Steve stood up, heading towards the food knowing you were both dying to have something in your systems after a long day. Beating him to it, you plated him a hot dog swiftly moving on as if the little gesture meant nothing.
“Condiments?” You asked, picking up the ketchup bottle, giving it a good shake before squeezing a dollop on your plate.
“Huh?” He asked confused, too wound up about your niceness.
“Do you want any condiments on your hot dog?” You clarified once more, raising your brow up at him.
He needed to stop reading into things so much.
“Oh, y-yeah” He nodded, watching as you squeezed some for him, “and mustard please,” he said, and you nodded, reaching for the yellow bottle and doing the same before you capped it off and left him in the dust when you went to sit with the girls.
Eddie snuck up from behind him, just nearly whispering into his ear lowly, “Aren’t you two being friendly for once?”
He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows when Steve looked back at him a bit startled. He rolled his eyes, walking over to the chairs near their tent and plopping down.
“She’s pitying me because of my hand.”
“Or she just genuinely wants to help you out?” Jonathan chimed in taking a seat beside him.
Steve shook his head, picking up his food, “I doubt that. She’s probably gonna use this against me for the rest of eternity.” He replied before taking a bite.
“I don’t think so man, I think she actually cares, and I think you like that she cares.” Eddie waved his finger in the air before poking at his cheek.
Steve snapped his teeth, pretending to bite the finger that Eddie quickly pulled away. Jonathan laughed at the banter because of course Eddie had to be the one to stir the pot when things were staring to cool and settle.
“She doesn’t give a damn about me….”
Steve started, trailing his eyes to where you were, watching you share whispers to the girls before you met his eyes for a split second.
“She still hates my guts.” He said as you snapped your eyes back to Nancy and Robin.
“Did we miss something while you guys were gone?” Nancy raised her brows, glancing back at Steve and the boys who were engrossed in their own conversations whilst they ate.
You shook your head towards her, swallowing your food before speaking.
“Nope, why do you say that?” You buzzed, wondering why all of a sudden she thought something had happened.
Robin chimed in swiftly, nudging your arm with a weak punch, shooting you a more than obvious look.
“Cause you guys haven’t tried to kill each other for the past hour and a half and you actually could stand to sit beside him without arguing.”
You tilted your head at her incredulously.
“I thought you guys wanted us to get along?”
“Oh, we do…” Nancy nodded enthusiastically, “we’re just wondering what made it happen considering you both tried to kill each other a few hours ago.”
Letting out a deep breath, you tried to give your best irritated look under your tiredness.
“We’re just tired that’s all. We’ve run out of insults and to be quite honest, I need to recharge my battery with some sleep before attempting to murder him tomorrow. Before you know it we’ll be at each other’s throats again.” You explained hoping they would drop it.
But of course they didn’t.
“Would it kill you to, I don’t know, be a little more positive on the outlook of you and Steve’s relationship.” Robin beamed hopefully.
You rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you glanced over at Steve’s figure.
“He still hates me,” you said, meeting his orbs split, “I know it,” you muttered, tearing your eyes away.
Neither Nancy, nor Eddie, or Jonathan, and Robin didn’t believe a goddamn word that came out of your mouths when it came to each other. Clearly things were starting to unfold and whatever it was that happened when they weren’t around to see it was obviously just the catalyst.
So many things that went unspoken for way too long were lingering in the air and they all knew you needed the space to confront it.After a while of eating, Nancy dramatically yawned, gesturing her boyfriend over to her with wide eyes silently telling him to go along with what she was doing, without you or Steve taking notice.
“We’re gonna head to bed now.” She announced, tiredly clinging to her boyfriend's side.
Jonathan nodded, wrapping his arms over her shoulders.
“Yeah, we’ll see you guys in the morning.” He said, the two of them beginning to get into their tents while calling out their goodnights to you all.
“Wake us up if you need anything.” You called out as they both hummed and zipped up their tarp for the night.
You were going to turn in too, really you were more than tired, just needing a good night's rest so that you’d be ready to go in the morning. Throwing out your plate, you walked over to your tent to grab your toothbrush and other nighttime necessities.
“I’m gonna go brush my teeth.” You said, walking towards the bathrooms.
“Wait up,” Steve called out, grabbing his own brush and jogging towards where you waited so you guys could go together.
Robin tilted her head towards your tent, as Eddie nodded, swiftly grabbing his lighter and pre rolls from his duffle bag and joining Robin inside the structure. That honestly wasn’t a part of the plan, seeing as though he was going to keep the blunt to himself, but now it was just convenient and would make the perfect excuse.
Steve didn’t bother to settle to the empty sink beside yours, instead he switched the water on letting you run your brush under the faucet first before he did his. You squeezed a strip of toothpaste over your bristles before doing the same to his guessing he forgot to pack his own which he totally did.
The both of you stood in front of the mirror, brushing in silence with the water trickling weakly. Your eyes drifted from his face to his hand that rested at his side stiffly. You knew it was probably still a little sore, but by tomorrow morning the pain should subside enough for him to move it a little more freely.
“Do you want me to rewrap your hand?” You offered, mouth still full of toothpaste as you spoke mumbly.
He met your eyes in the mirror, lifting his hand towards you, trusting your opinion rather than his own.
“What do you think?”
You stopped your brushing for just a second, leaving the brush between your cheek and teeth as you picked up his hand and gave it a good look to see if there was any oozing blood or loose tape — which there was neither.
Putting his arm down gently, you shook your head. “Looks fine, I’ll just clean it and change the gauze in the morning.”
“Okay.” He mumbled, smiling softly.
Steve let you rinse first, leaning up against the wall as he watched you spit out the residue and wipe your mouth clean. You stepped away, letting him have his go while you reached into your small toiletry bag, placing your brush back inside and twisting open your lip balm to smooth over your lips.
“Want some?” You raised your brow, seeing him watch you while he swigged some water in his mouth.
He spat, turning off the water and looking at the tube, “Birthday cake?” He questioned the flavor on the label.
“Tastes like vanilla and strawberries.” You said as he shrugged, puckering his lips towards you as you applied a thin layer before capping it off and throwing it back into your bag.
He smacked his lips together, a bit of his tongue coming out to lick at it, “I can’t taste it?”
“You’re not actually supposed to eat it, Steve.” You chided, shaking your head as you both walked to the tents.
“Then why would they advertise it as birthday cake if I can’t taste the cake?” He retorted, still trying to lick at his slimy lips to taste it.
You didn’t want to get into with him over some stupid lip balm flavor so instead you held back, listening to his lips smacking, persistent on getting to try the artificial taste while you tried not to laugh. As you got closer to the tents, a different smell lingered in the air along with the smokey aroma of the fire.
“Do you smell that?” You sniffed the air, turning to Steve seeing him do the same.
He sniffled in a few times, deciphering the smell and after a few seconds, he knew exactly what it was, an unmistakable likeness to the back of Eddie’s van.
“It’s weed.”
You looked around, realizing the absence of Eddie and Robin who were just sitting near the campfire before you went to the bathroom. Now, you noticed your tent that was half unzipped was completely sealed and if you listened close enough you could hear the whispers being spoken from inside.
You stomped over to them, unzipping the tarp, pulling it roughly.
“Are you guys insane?” You hissed, tossing in your toiletry bag while staring at them in annoyance.
“Insanely hiiiigh.” Robin hiccuped with a giggle joined by Eddie’s snorts while he took another hit.
Steve peered in from behind you, his expression stern.
“You’re not even supposed to bring that stuff onto the camp ground, you’re gonna get us kicked out, dumbass.” Steve scolded, ripping the joint from Eddie and putting it out against the ground.
“Hey! That was a special strain!” Eddie argued, attempting to reach for it but Steve pulled it behind his back, not letting up.
“I don’t care.” You said dryly, “you need to get out and go to your tent so I can sleep.”
You attempted to pull him out by the arm but he didn’t budge as easily as you thought he would.
“No, wait! Ten more minutes!” Robin whined, smacking your arm away from her friend, “You guys are letting all the good stuff out!”
Zipping up the tent, you and Steve backed away defeatedly. You ran your hands through your hair, closing your eyes briefly trying not to let their little antics tick you off despite your exhaustion.
“Ten minutes and I’m counting!” You warned, thumping the top of the tent before you flopped down onto the chairs hoping time would fly faster.
Steve looked at you apologetically, holding back his joking comment about how it didn’t matter that he built your tent, seeing as though you were locked out, but he didn’t want to make you more irritated than you already were… surprising right?
“Night?” He said, shooting you a remorseful smile when he stopped in front of your chair.
“Goodnight, Steve.” You yawned, waving him off as you hugged yourself to bear the cold clad in nothing but your tank and shorts.
He nodded walking to his tent a few feet away, toeing off his shoes before giving you one last look until he zipped his tent closed. He reached for the small flashlight he packed, putting it on its lowest setting so that Eddie could see when he came in. Giving his pillow a pat, he laid back pulling his blanket over himself and attempting to close his eyes and rest.
Sleep should have come easy seeing as though he had been up since seven in the morning, yet he still couldn’t fall into slumber no matter how hard he tried. He knew it wasn’t the fact that he wasn’t in his bedroom because he’d been camping times before and sleep naturally came easy but tonight it just wasn’t budging.
He shifted uncomfortably, aware of the passing minutes that stretched beyond ten, and Eddie still hadn't joined him. He was totally sure he didn’t even hear you give them another warning from the outside, meaning that you were definitely asleep on that chair.
Sitting up to peek through the small gap he left open, there you were — head tilted back, eyes closed, arms hugging your body, seemingly oblivious to the bitter cold that was going to leave you with hypothermia. If he was really feeling like being an asshole to you, he would’ve left you out there to suffer the consequences of your actions, but he couldn’t.
Quietly stepping outside, Steve approached, bending down to gently nudge you awake.
“Psttt, wake up," he whispered, cautious not to disturb Nancy and Jonathan nearby who were dead asleep by now.
You responded with a sleepy mumble, lips curling up as you somehow shifted deeper into the chair that was not designed to sleep in like that no matter how tired someone could be.
He tried again, this time more rigid in his efforts by grabbing your hand and squeezing it, “Wake up.”
Feeling his toasty hand in yours, you groggily opened your eyes, dazed orbs looking into his.
“What?” You grumbled, eyes opening to be met with Steve’s filled with confusion.
Without much explaining, he squeezed your hand again, pulling you up, “You’re crashing in my tent tonight.”
You had no choice but to let him pull you along, stumbling behind him as sleep still clouded your senses.
“Why?” You groaned, rubbing at your eyes while he guided you to his tent where he widened the tarp, gesturing for you to enter.
“Because that special strain Eddie was talking about was for sleep. Neither of them are gonna budge till morning.” He informed you, resting a gentle hand on the small of your back to keep you up right as you lazily toed your shoes off.
“Well fuck me.” You muttered under your breath crouching when you stepped into the small space.
He snorted behind you, “In your dreams.” He said before zipping it up.
“Shut up,” you groaned, crawling towards the empty space beside him.
Now it was starting to feel like things were going back to normal.
You settled into what would have been Eddie’s side, a half fluffed pillow under your head and nothing else. Though their overall set up was way more comfortable than what you and Robin had going on in yours. Steve had layered a sleeping mat beneath the comforter, making the surface a little more plush that way no rocks or gravel could be felt under the tarp — plus it added an extra layer of warmth, something you desperately needed right now.
Laying on your back, you left a good distance between you both, wrapping your arms around yourself once again hoping that now you’d be able to sleep comfortably even if it was beside Steve. Closing your eyes, you focused on breathing trying to not think so hard about the shivers in your bones knowing you wouldn’t be able to feel them once you fell asleep.
“I can hear your teeth clattering.” Steve sighed, casting a glance towards you where you laid beside him, starting to rub your hands up and down your arms in an attempt to generate warmth.
“I obviously wasn’t prepared for this, and my blanket is in my tent.” You muttered, eyes still closed and tucking your knees into yourself to find some semblance of comfort.
He made a thoughtful noise, lifting up his blanket and turning his body towards you. You could feel the space tighten, the fuzzy material of his blanket skimming your bare skin.
“Get under here.” He whispered, nodding his head when you finally opened your eyes looking at him with uncertainty and confusion.
You didn’t know what to make of it, if this was some kind of cruel joke he was playing on you, where he was actually going to hog it for himself and let you spend the rest of the night with your teeth clattering.
But deep down he wasn’t all that bad, sure he poked fun at you and made your blood boil like no other, but when it came down to morals, he had some saved for you… at least for now it seemed like.
Steve raised his brow at your hesitance, lifting the blanket up higher.
“What’re you waiting for? Do you want to freeze to death because by all means let me know.” He challenged pretending as if he wouldn’t care.
You swallowed thickly, turning your back towards him as you cautiously scooted under the blanket, feeling its comforting weight draped over your body. His fingers funneled you over more of the material, letting you have most of it as you quietly thanked him, tucking the throw under your neck where your fingers held it tight.
This was totally out of character coming from Steve knowing it would’ve hurt his ego a lot less if he’d just given you the blanket for yourself and spent the night with no covering. But for some reason you couldn’t place the gesture, not knowing why he would go out of his way for you or if this was some ulterior motive to hold against you in the future.
“I thought you wouldn’t mind me dead.” You said, trying to find a way to ease the awkwardness that you felt in your mind when he was just inches behind you.
“I don’t,” he laughed, his breath grazing the back of your neck. “But I don’t want to haul your frozen body in the back of Eddie’s van.” He added with a playful glint.
There was your old Steve, back.
“C-can we just go to bed?” You stuttered, clearing your throat as you rested your head deeper into the pillow just wanting to dream off somewhere, anywhere but right there in reality.
“Sure.” He agreed, shifting slightly before settling down and closing his eyes.
Silence enveloped you both, just the sounds of crickets from the outside and gentle crackling of the fire that burned slow in the air.
Part of you wished he maybe would have left you out there to fend for yourself or maybe just threw his blanket over you for good measure, but somehow, being in here with him, tucked away from the rest of the world made you feel even more awake than before. It was obvious, neither of you were going to be falling asleep so easily, the tension so thick you could barely breathe through it.
Steve at least tried to fall asleep, focusing on something to dream about but you were overwhelming his senses making his nerves go into overdrive. Sure he already reeked of all of your products that he had borrowed in the shower, but now it was a combination of their scents attached to your skin and hair that was filling his nostrils. It didn’t help that you unconsciously let out those soft noises, as your body shook, not fully taking in the warmth just yet.
Shifting slightly, your back unintentionally met his forearms that rested behind you. His eyes snapped open, feeling the coolness against his skin, shifting up slightly just enough to see your face.
“How are you still freezing?” Steve yelped, pulling his arm back from your frosty skin.
You sighed heavily, repositioning your body to face him with a grunt, throwing all caution to the wind and not caring about how intimate this was. Both of you had already crossed so many lines that defined your hate fueled relationship… one more thing couldn’t hurt.
“I’m a-always cold.” You whispered, jaw wobbling through the shivers taking deep breaths to try to relax yourself.
Steve raised his eyebrows and stared at you worriedly, “So you dying is just inevitable tonight, that’s what you’re saying?”
It came out a bit too sarcastic than he meant it to be since he was just genuinely curious to know if you were going to make it out alive tonight or if you needed to get into Eddie’s van and crank up the heater.
You rolled your eyes, whispering in frustration.
“I can’t help it alright! Had I been in my tent, I’d be fine!”
Steve brushed your irritation off, instead moving his arms under the blanket, hovering his hands over your waist.
“Well you’re not, so I’m gonna swallow my pride and do something about it alright?” He said slowly letting his hands slide over your cold skin, watching as your face twisted with confusion.
“What are you… oh god.” You groaned realizing exactly where this was going – a mirror to earlier in the lake, but this time you weren’t so disgusted.
He was practically a human furnace, pulling you closer into him barely leaving inches while the warmth from his body cascaded onto yours. You tried not to tense or move abruptly, aware that his bad hand was weakly grasping your back and the last thing you wanted was to make it worse.
Instead you froze, breathing stopped for a second as you searched his face trying to see how he was feeling about this whole thing. He didn’t look displeased or annoyed that he was doing this for you, instead he was calm, cool, and collected as if he wasn’t holding the girl who tried to stab him a few hours ago.
“Do you have a better idea?” Steve suggested, looking down at you awaiting to see your next moves: either telling him to fuck off or staying silent for the rest of the night.
To his surprise, you eased into his hold, hooking your own arms under his and closing the rest of the space between you. Your chest was pressed up against his, one of your legs fastened over his hip, while the other knocked against his thigh. It was a definite contrast to the hours earlier where he practically lugged you through the lake, if only you knew things would be so different now.
“We are not to speak about this after tonight. Not even a peep.” You warned, squirming impossibly closer to him before shooting him a serious look.
He nodded, eyes shutting tightly like he was trying to dream it away.
“I’m erasing this from my memory as we speak.”
“Goodnight.” You whispered, closing your eyes, hoping that would be the end of it.
“Night.” He muttered back.
Third times a charm… or maybe not.
In this position you could feel everything and there was no way to escape it.
His warm breath fanning over your face, his chest rising and falling against yours, the soft thumpthump of his heart echoing beneath your ear, and the hair on his arms delicately brushing against your exposed skin — everything was him wrapped up in your arms. Literally.
Steve could feel it, the way you tried to control your breathing by taking a breath in when he breathed out. But you were trying too hard to time it perfectly, overthinking and making sure he didn’t notice when it’s all he could really do, your back heaving against his hands was all it took for him to speak up.
“Relax,” Steve murmured gingerly digging his fingertips into your skin with his eyes still closed
“H-huh?” You opened your eyes watching his serene features that showed he wasn’t as edgy as you.
“I can feel you…” He started, voice low and silky as he spoke, “you’re nervous.”
You shook your head as if he could see you, swallowing the lump in your throat.
“I…I’m not nervous, it’s just—this is different, we don’t do this.” You explained only partially truthfully considering you were more than just nervous.
“It’s just for tonight.” He said trying to iron out your worries the best that he could.
“No, I know, it’s just that—”
“I can feel your eyes on me, you know?”
Steve chuckled, peeking one of his eyes open, catching you in the act of trying to pinch them closed before he noticed.
You crumbled, letting out a weak laugh as you just opened them, finding him doing the same. The two of you staring at each other, the only sliver of light from the small beam in the corner of the tent, accompanied with the moonlight seeping weakly past the tarp.
Steve lifted his head just a bit, gesturing back to his bag just a few feet away from where you both were in the middle of the area.
“Do you just want to take the blanket? I have a hoodie I can use in my—” His arms ever so slightly loosed and you stopped him.
Your fingertips squeezed tenderly into back, your leg pushing down on his hip to stop him from moving any further.
“No, its fine, this is fine. I don’t mind sharing.”
“You sure?” He laughed quietly, resting his head back down on the pillow.
“Cause you don’t have to pretend you want to share? We hate each other so I’m very familiar with our dislike when we’re forced to be around one another.” He reminded you, his tone light hearted not exuding any malice this time around.
You swallowed, nodding your head reassuringly as you let up your tense hold on him.
“I know…I-I still hate you, but I can deal with this for one night.”
“And you’re okay with this? Us… cuddling?” He asked, just wanting to be extra sure because cuddling didn’t have to be a part of it if you didn’t want it.
“Positive.” You hummed, giving him one last look before you fluttered your eyes closed.
“Okay… good, good.” He hushed, nodding more so to himself content that you seemed to relax a bit more.
He should’ve closed eyes and went off to sleep, but now it seemed like all he wanted to do was watch you. Make sure that you were comfortable enough in his arms and warm enough to brave the night until morning and then you’d never have to be this close to him again.
He never took his eyes off your face, taking all of you in at once — long lashes kissing the skin under your eyes, cheek cozily pressed into the fluff of the pillow, lips relaxing in a straight smile and under his touch your breathing was stable, synchronized with his. He couldn’t believe he was holding you right now, getting the chance to see you like this — it was his biggest privilege.
You could feel his eyes, he obviously sucked at taking his own advice and he was clearly proving your point that he was a hypocrite… but you already knew that.
You knew a lot of things about Steve, mostly all of the bad and annoying parts about him, but you also knew the good parts. The ones you blocked off and stored way back in your head because you never wanted to associate them with him.
The fact that he wasn’t all that bad under those preppy button ups and head of hair.
He loved your friends, just as much as you did, treated them with kindness and savored every moment he spent with them. He knew how to take care of six rascals all by himself while also being the one they ran to when it came to all their teenage problems. He never showed up empty handed to any hangouts, always doing his best to bring anything whether it was a plain bag of chips or the camping equipment he had hidden in his garage.
Steve knew how to push your buttons, and perhaps that was the very thing that frustrated you the most — the realization that he had an undeniable effect on you. And at the same time, it was the very thing you were terrified of knowing — that if things would have been different, maybe the irritation you both had felt for each other could have just been affection from the get go.
The thick and imposing walls of animosity you’d built up for each other, was just a defensive mechanism. A weak hollow barrier that tried to disguise what you really felt, something so strong that only now broke through the bounds and unleashed a flood of emotions.
What was one more line crossed, when you both already jumped bridges?
“Steve?” You called out to him, hoping he wasn’t pretending to be asleep.
“Yeah?” His reply came swiftly, and his eyes flickered to watch your lips form the next set of words.
“You still hate me right?” You suspected, running your tongue over the bottom of your lip as you waited.
He nodded his head obviously though you couldn’t see him.
“Y-yeah. Why?” He furrowed his brows puzzled by the sudden question.
“What do you hate about me?” You pressed on.
A deep breath fanned across your face, followed by the tsking of his tongue, “I don’t think we should—”
“Tell me, Steve… please?” Your hands pressed firmly against his back, a silent plea echoing through the touch, not because you wanted to hear the words coming from him, but because you needed them.
He swallowed thickly, watching as you waited with your brows raised up yet eyes still closed. He didn’t understand why you wanted this from him all of the sudden. Why now when all his mind could do was fill up with the parts of you that he wanted to forget? The parts of you he silently spent hyperfixating on because you thought more about the people around you rather than yourself and he wished he could be half the person you were.
He liked to joke that you were his competition, his rival of sorts, but in actuality, he could never measure up to your level of compassion and he was more than fine with that. Settling for watching on the sidelines with a convincing snarkiness on his face, while on the inside his bones weakened and his brain went haywire wondering how you could ever exist in the same lifetime as him.
There was nothing he truly hated about you, he didn’t think there ever could be.
Mindlessly his fingers moved along your back, rubbing small circles and sweeping across your soft skin before he cleared his throat from the roughness and finally spoke into the millimeters between you.
“I umm, I hate the way you never forget about something I did.” He started, mind wandering to the afternoon where you reminded him of such instances with Dustin.
“Hmmm.” You hummed, nodding your head along and relaxing your features now that he was working with you.
“I hate the way you always remind me to slow down when I’m driving around with the kids.” He admitted, guiltily confessing to his occasional speeding when they were running late and so was he.
You grunted, snickering weakly, “I need them all in one piece.”
He agreed, a faint smile tugging at his lips, acknowledging your concern.
His fingers stalled against your back, taking a sharp breath in, letting the words rest on the tip of his tongue whilst he gave himself a moment. A moment to take you in, to see you as such, to give himself a little longer with the mystery hanging in the air wondering if you could feel what he felt and understand what he was about to say.
“And I hate the way you look at everyone except me.” He said it so quietly that if you weren’t listening close enough you would have missed it.
But how could you ever let something like that float away so easily?
You flickered your eyes open, looking up at him past your lashes, staring into his orbs for all he was worth. Like he was the only thing to ever exist before your eyes and all you wanted to do was memorize him.
“Like what?” You whispered, never breaking eye contact.
“Like this…” He proclaimed, pulling his injured hand away from your back and bringing it forward to cradle your face ever so gently.
His thumb traced your cheek, your breath catching in your throat, letting him gaze at you in a way he never had before. It was concerning how quickly you established that from this moment on, Steve was the only person who would ever have the privilege of seeing like this. Stripped down in the confines of a stupid tent, that somehow felt like its own little oasis away from the rest of the scary world right outside.
It was just you and him and your own world.
“You look at everyone with these eyes, so eager and happy.” He said, trailing down to the corner of your lips, brushing his thumb across delicate skin.
“You smile at them like they’re everything to you.” he said, nearly letting his hand slip away as if he was unworthy of such a feeling.
But before he could, you brought your hands up, wrapping gently around his wrists to keep him there like your life depended on it. Wanting nothing more than to show him that he could — he was willing and able, and had all the permission from you to stay here, as long as you could get him to.
“I hate that you don’t look at me like that.” He swallowed, shaking his head more so himself, because all he ever wanted was this and for so long he pushed it away.
“I am right now.” You finally spoke, almost breathlessly, trying to reassure his anxieties about the past, the same ones you were feeling.
“Hate that it took this long.” He confessed with a weak laugh.
You smiled half apologetically. “Me too.”
It was all the confirmation you both needed.
No more lines.
No more bridges burnt.
Nothing keeping you both from the truth.
He had bit the bullet and you had jumped into the deep end and there was no going back from here. Time wasn’t stopping for either of you despite the intensity of the moment. There was clearly a beginning, you and him having a rough one, but that didn’t mean that your ending had to be so treacherous.
The gentle gesture of him pushing the strands of hair that fell over your face, sent shivers down your spine, a sort of electric touch that should have had you running away but all you felt was the need for more. He didn’t miss the way your eyes shot down to his lips, staring at them wondering his next moves before you met his again.
“I’m gonna kiss you now, if that’s okay.” He whispered the words ever so quietly, leaving them to linger in the space as a delicate invitation hoping it was one you’d accept.
“More than okay.” You nodded, closing your eyes, feeling his face inch closer to yours.
The first touch of his lips upon yours felt like sparks flying, holy ground beneath you both as you took your time, exploring everything in between — what you imagined it would be like and the unexpected that had you both going down the twists and turns just trying to familiarize yourself with each other.
His lips moved against yours unhurried, gentle but deliberate, not daring to miss even an inch of you. You felt as if he was taking your breath away, leaving you to succumb to a sort of poise that usually never came this easily. With every press and swipe across your lips, you were jumping and falling into somewhere you never wanted to leave.
You nearly wanted to cry when he pulled away, leaving you only to catch your breath, his chest moving up and down deeply, while you were ready to go again and again and–
“W-was that okay?” He asked, fighting the urge to kiss you again and make you go dizzy.
You smiled like an idiot, lips blushing with a pink as bright as your cheeks.
“Perfect. Can we do it again.”
“Yeah.” He beamed, moving to hover up on his elbows with his face above yours, giving you the access to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into you.
The second kiss was filled with hunger, the both of you trying to make up for the lost time you had spent at each other's throats when you could've been glued to each other's mouths. But you were positive you would both be able to make up for it eventually, and tonight felt like it was going to be the first of many.
His teeth barely grazed over your bottom lip, prompting a moan to rip through your throat before you pulled away breathlessly.
“I—I want you.” You spoke, voice full teetering between desperation and confidence.
Steve wasn’t expecting it at all despite the circumstances that just took place with the kiss. He’d be fine if all you wanted to do was spend the rest of the night making out like depraved teenagers or if you wanted to cuddle until you fell asleep.
He swallowed, looking into your eyes searching for any hesitancy on your features but you were positive that there wasn’t anything you wanted more than Steve.
“Are you sure?” He implored, desperately wanting to hear the words fall from your lips.
“With everything inside of me.” You nodded with a smile bringing your lips back to his once more, not being able to help yourself.
You could feel his grin against yours, a self indulgent one that still couldn't wrap his head around the fact that he was kissing you with every fiber of his being hoping that with each press and slide it would compensate for how much of an asshole he’d been to you.
He moved his lips, creating a trail of kisses over your jaw and down your neck, gently sucking the skin to pepper you in love bites.
“P-please, Steve,” You moaned, moving your head to give him more access to the sweet spot on your neck, “Need more.”
He licked over the hickey, pressing a quick kiss to the developing bruise before he unwrapped your arms from his neck, placing them on your sides. Nudging your shoulder a bit, you laid fully on your back while he moved onto his knees, staring at you with a look so promising and true.
“You don’t have to beg, at least not for tonight. I swear.”
His fingers smoothed over your sides feeling the warmth coming to you quicker now.
“I want you…so so bad.” You pouted, reaching for his hands to intertwine in yours.
“You have me.”
He brought yours up, placing a chaste kiss on the back of your hand before he let go and hovered above the waistband of your shorts.
“Can I?”
You nodded, lifting your hips slightly as he glided them off your legs, stripping away one layer of clothing yet revealing another — a black, lacy, number that definitely wasn’t planned for tonight, but he wasn’t complaining, in fact he found it a little humorous taking into the account the occasion.
“You packed a thong for camping?”
Steve snorted lightly, kissing the inside of your thigh as you blushed, tucking your cheek into your shoulder.
“I…I was rushing and packed it accidentally.” You told him, silently thanking the universe and your horrible planning that somehow got this perfectly.
“Lucky me.” He rasped, toying with the lace around your hip bone, peppering kisses across your thighs, not making any move to strip you free of them yet as he wanted to worship all of you first.
You sat up slightly, running your hand over his covered shoulder blade.
“C-could you take your shirt off?”
“Course I can.” He nodded quickly, sitting up just enough to work his arms through the shirt.
The garment was quickly pulled off his body, thrown off the side wherever he had flung your shorts.
“I can take mine off, too—” You started, moving up a bit more as you pulled at the bottom of your cami but before you could get any farther, he stopped you, squeezing your wrist gently.
“Only if you want to, s’okay if you don’t.” He assured you, wanting to know this was all about you being comfortable.
You smiled warmly and shook your head at his politeness, still trying to take all of him in, not just for the body before you, but for how attentive he had been towards you.
“No, I do… I just—just wanted to feel more of you, that’s why I asked.” You explained with a light laugh.
“You’re cute.” He chuckled, rubbing his hands up and down your thighs as you pulled the material over your head discarding it.
Absentmindedly your arms wrapped around yourself, bashfully trying to hide away as if that would make Steve forget that you were topless in front of him. Finally he got to see what the slivers of skin that was hidden away beneath clothing or in this case, made an appearance just hours ago.
“Don’t hide. You’re so beautiful.” Steve spoke softly, reassuring you of whatever nervousness you were feeling, slowly lowering your arms down letting him see you completely.
You could see and hear it in the way his breath hitched in his throat, eyes stuck on your chest before a smirk played on his features and he finally trailed them back up to your eyes.
“So you’re always excited to see me, then?” He teased, reaching up to run his hands along your ribcage, feeling your laughter rumble beneath his skin.
“Shut up.” You chided, pushing playfully at his shoulder.
“You got just the thing for me to do just that.” He tilted his head down and you nodded, giving him the green light to do what he pleased.
His lips wrapped around your sensitive skin, peak hardening in this mouth while the other was met with the flick and roll of his fingers. You were sure by the end of it, your chest would be littered with love bites of all shapes and sizes. Steve made the extra effort to glide across your chest, showing both breasts the attention they so rightfully deserved with his mark left behind.
“Mmm, S-steve.” You moaned, arching up into him and nails grazing at the nape of his neck.
“Gotta make up for lost time.” He mumbled against your, sucking another hickey but this time right above your sternum, completing the other half to make a lopsided heart that you’d see in the morning.
“I want more.” You begged, finally getting the courage to pull him away, eyes peering down at him.
He smacked his lips, nodding as he leaned up and pecked your lips, murmuring against them.
“I got you, princess.”
His kisses trailed down your body, taking his sweet time leaving your skin with a plethora of hickies, some small and subtle, and others that would settle darker by morning. Something about it, the possessiveness of it all added to the longing, knowing he was marking you as his — and he was the only person you wanted to belong to right now… forever even.
Placing a final kiss above the waistband of your intimates, he looked up at you, toying with the fabric.
“Let me get these off you, yeah?”
You hummed, letting your feet sit flat on the comforter, slightly lifting your hips up to help him. His fingers slipped under the lace, tugging them away from your core and off your legs, putting them off to the side.
“So fucking pretty.” He murmured, gently pulling your knees wider apart enough for him to slot himself between them and lay on his stomach.
His eyes were fixated on your core, taking you in with such hunger but at the same time awe, as if he was admiring the most beautiful work of art just before he would dig his claws into it. No ones had ever looked at you like that, taking their time and drinking you in, it almost made you want to shoo him away with all the attention he was giving you.
“Steveeee.” You whined, laughing behind your hands that covered your face.
“Why’re you hiding?” He puffed out a short laugh, splaying his hands over your stomach rubbing gently.
You pulled fingers apart, staring at him timidly. “I—I don’t know, I just never thought that we’d… you know.”
Stop pretending like we hated each other and confessed our feeling then deciding to fuck in a dingy tent in the middle of nowhere? Yeah he totally knew what you meant.
“I know what you mean,” He placed a reassuring kiss on the inside of your knee.
“We can stop whenever you want okay? No questions asked, you say the word and I’ll stop and we’ll put our clothes back on and—”
“I don’t want to stop. Promise, just a little nervous.” You assured him, sitting up slightly to bring your hand to his cheek, thumbing the freckles peppering his skin.
“Don’t be, I’m gonna make you feel so good. I promise.” He smiled, leaning into your touch and kissing the pulse point on your wrist.
Steve nodded, silently telling you to lie back and let him fulfill his promise which you were sure he was going to over deliver on. And god were you right.
His tongue swiped between your folds, shuddering beneath him you couldn’t help pinch your eyes closed trying to bottle up the feeling and keep it in your memory forever.
“F-fuck,” You moaned, relished in the feeling of each pass and kiss, “Feels so good, Steve.”
His thumb swiped over your clit, breath fanning over your skin as he watched your back arch with a smirk on his face.
“Told you so, princess.”
He dove back in, tongue flicking over your sensitive button while he worked two fingers into you slowly. The stretch of his thick digits and the mixture of his warm tongue sent your hands flying, in search of something to grab and immediately you went for Steve’s hand.
Somehow through the pleasure you didn’t feel the tape on his hand, that is until you squeezed and felt the layer blocking the contact of skin on his. The tape slightly crumpled in your hold causing your eyes to fly open, staring down at him.
“S-shit, I’m so sorry!” You whispered, quickly letting go of his hand nearly backing away from Steve thinking that you hurt him.
His fingers abruptly left your core, quickly slinging his arm over your hips stopping you from moving away from him. The bad hand immediately reached out for yours, intertwining your fingers together despite your uncertainty that didn’t want to immediately hook between his.
“S’okay, I’m okay, promise.” He assured you, kissing your mound before shooting you a wink as he squeezed yours.
“You can grab my hand, squeeze as tight as you want. The nurse who wrapped it up did a hell of a job, thing isn’t gonna hurt me.”
It made you giggle, kissing his knuckles, murmuring against them, “Hmm, still, I’m sorry.”
He shook his head, lips brushing against your center as he got back to work.
“Shhh it’s okay.”
Steve was always more of a giver, something he usually bragged about and you thought was absolute bullshit, but now you understood seeing as though he was definitely giving you something to come back for, in more ways than one.
His tongue dipped lower, dragged up from your aching hole to your sensitive clit.
“You like that?” his voice vibrated across your sensitive skin, sending your body into squirms.
“Yes…p-please, right there,” You moaned, gripping his hand tightly as he repeated the action. “Just like that, baby.”
“Say it again.” He demanded though it more so came out as a desperate plea.
“Baby?”
He let out a groan, nipping at the inside of your thigh, “I love hearing it from you…c’mon, let me get you there, baby.”
It was the end of the beginning from then on out with one goal in his head. Feasting on you like you were his last meal trying to savor your sweetness and all at once engrain the image of your blissful face in his mind and those addicting moans that dared to get louder with every second that passed.
“I’m so close.” You whispered, trying to keep your voice down, “I—I, Steve, baby, please.”
Your thighs began shaking around his head, stomach heaving in deeper and twisting tightly, teeth digging into your lip trying to muffle the sounds of pleasure that wanted to escape, and your hand clutching onto his for dear life – the only thing grounding you while his mouth sent you into ecstasy.
“Cum for me.” He vibrated against you, lips wrapped around your bud as he sucked and watched you explode.
“Baby, f-fuck.” You gasped, looking down to meet his eyes before it was too much for you to handle.
Euphoria washed over you, similarly to the colors of the sunset. Bright oranges and pinks flashed across your vision, painting your skin with the feverish warmth before it fizzled out into darkness, specks of white making their appearance as your body buzzed.
Steve didn’t pull away until you stopped moving your hips into and away from him, trying to chase and escape the pleasure all at once until you came down. Even then he didn’t dare to leave you just yet, taking his time to wait until you came down from your high. He pressed gentle kisses over your inner thighs, making his way up to your midsection, resting his chin there, your chest moving beneath him as you caught your breath.
“Hey pretty.” He murmured, your eyes peeking open to see him — lips and chin coated with a sheen of you in the best way possible.
You swallowed, giving his hand three squeezes and you cleared your throat from the hoarseness, “H-hi Stevie.”
Stevie. It was a stupid nickname you used against him all the time because he hated it, but right now it seemed to have the same effect on him as you calling him baby just a little while ago.
Using his elbows as leverage, he scooted up to you chuckling as you pulled him down bringing his lips to yours as you tasted your essences on him. Your legs hiked up around his hips, bringing his clothed crotch down to your core, just a piece of fabric separating you both, but even then the tent in his pants wasn’t hard to pick up on.
“Lay down for me, please.” You mumbled against his lips, poorly attempting to roll him on his back despite his sheer strength.
He pulled away only slightly, furrowing his brows at you. “Baby, baby, we don’t have to if you—”
“I want to, so bad,” You pressed your hips up into him, inducing a moan to rip from his mouth, though still he didn’t roll over just yet.
You frowned, loosening your legs, hoping you didn’t cross the line, “Do you not want to?”
Quickly he shook his head, moving to hold your face in his hands. “I do, sweetheart, you don’t know how badly I want to have you. But I kinda feel horrible here,” He grimaced, face twisting with embarrassment.
“W-was hoping to have our first time together in a bed, preferably mine but yours could work too, but–”
“Wait!” You cut him off with surprise, lips curling up.
“You thought about this?” You suspected with a grin, teasing him with a poke on the cheek.
He tried to play it off with an unconvincing scoff that didn’t cover the croak in his voice, “M-maybe?”
You beamed, running your thumb along his bottom lip, batting your eyes up at him. “Well if you’re okay with it, we can totally use your bed the next time, and the next, and then the—”
“Of course.” He agreed quickly, making you laugh as you pushed his chest away
“Lay down for me, baby.”
He did as you said, taking your spot as you sat up on your knees pulling at the waistband of his sweats, working them off his ankles. His cock sprung up, the tip blushing with a bright read, aching and throbbing to be inside of you.
“Commando? And you want to call me naughty?” You teased, licking the palm of your hand and wrapping it around his length, pumping slowly.
He let out a shaky laugh, cursing at himself, “Kinda was regretting it earlier.”
“Why’s that?” You began shifting to lay flat on your stomach.
“Was worried you’d notice.” He mumbled.
His hands reach out to run up and down your back, soothing your skin desperately wanting to touch you despite the closeness already.
“Notice what?” You hummed gazing up at him.
“How hard I got when y-you wrapped me up.” He admitted, shuddering when you licked a stripe from the base to his glistening tip.
“Me serving you do it for you?” You half-joked, pepping kisses back down.
“Fuck no, that wasn’t it…” He shook his head, sitting up slightly to watch you.
“You just—f-fuck, you knew what you were doing and you took control and you…you fucking called me big boy and t-the way you bit the tape off.”
Clearly you wounded him up so much, something you never thought was capable, but alas the hate you both supposedly shared for each other had no bounds when it came to this sort of tension.
“Make a mess for me big boy, and I’ll clean it up, yeah?” You winked, finally giving him what he wanted, wrapping your mouth around him.
“S-shit, baby.” He hissed moving your hair towards one side to see you clearly.
“Making me feel so good, princess.” His hips resisted the want to thrust up into your mouth, controlling himself knowing that good things always took time and you were already making him feel great.
“So big.” You murmured, messily kissing the tip of his cock, giggling at the way his hips stuttered up knocking closer to your lips.
“Just right for you though right? Only yours baby.” He groaned, throwing his head back onto the pillows.
“Mhmm,” you hummed, wrapping your lips around the tip, sending vibrations up his sensitive length.
“Pretty too.” You whispered, pulling away teasingly.
He let out a hoarse laugh, shaking his head ridiculously. “Can’t be when I’ve got the prettiest sight right here.”
The compliment went straight to your core, the need to make him feel good was the motivation in your movements. Your wrist moved over the part that you couldn’t quite fit in your mouth.
“That's it baby, taking me so well,” He praised lowly trying to keep his voice quiet enough for just you to hear.
His fingers threaded through the roots of your hair, neither pulling or pushing, just holding you there and letting you go at your own pace.
“Shit, babe, y’gotta stop.” He hissed, tugging you off his length as you moaned, pouting up at him.
“Want to taste you…please Stevie?” You begged, mouth trailing down to his heavy sack, taking one of them in your mouth, before popping off only to mumble against them, “Let me taste you, please baby.”
How was he going to deny you, then?
“F-fucking shit, yeah, okay doll, I’ll give it to you.” He moaned, nodding more so at himself, trying to starve off the orgasm as long as he could knowing he was going to burst any second now.
You grinned, releasing his balls with a pop, quickly taking him into your mouth again.
“I’m c-cumming, fuck—”
He let the rest die in his throat, knowing that if he went any longer he’d wake up your friends and cause an even bigger mess that he nor you wanted to clean up right now.
“How was that?” You grinned, swiping your thumbs over the inner corners of your mouth, sucking off the remnants of him.
The act alone made his cock twitch, somehow springing back up ready for you.
“C’mere, you minx.” He whispered with a smirk, threading his hands towards the back of your head to gently tug you up to his face.
“Hmmm, Steve.” You giggled, letting it get cut short with his lips pressing deeply onto yours.
“You’re making it very hard for me to hate you.” He accused, pulling away from you with a playful smirk.
“You or your dick?” You wiggled your brows, eyes lowering between the both of you where his hardness rested against his thigh.
“I’m kidding… about the me hating you thing, not you making me hard.” He clarified, holding your chin between his forefingers.
It was clear that the both of you couldn’t really hate each other.
“You wanna be on top? I think it’ll be easier for you to control it at your pace.” He suggested, giving your hips a squeeze before letting his hands roam across your bottom.
“Okay.” You whispered, forehead resting against his as he snuck a hand between you both, pumping his length one, two, three times before slowly lowering yourself on him.
Taking in a deep breath, your eyes pinched closed, a gasp leaving your mouth feeling his breach your walls.
“S’okay, baby, take your time.” He murmured, kissing the tip of your noses while his hands rubbed comforting circles over your hip.
“Y-you’re so deep already.” You whined, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath, overwhelmed by the stretch.
His bottom lip jutted out, pouting at you with his eyes so soft, though his mouth spoke a tune so condescending and downright filthy.
“Aww baby, I know, but you’re taking it so well right?” He went a step further, resting his palm over your cheek, prompting you to look him in the eyes as you nodded quickly, wanting nothing more than to feel all of him.
Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, pulling it away from your cheek, “Touch me, please? I-I just need a little—”
He understood immediately, dropping the cocky facade for just a moment to make you feel the most comfortable knowing the first time was always the most intense.
“Shhh, I got you, I’m right here.” He swiped his tongue over two digits, working them between your bodies until he found your clit, rubbing gentle circles over the bud, just enough to help distract you from the initial stretch.
“O-oh, fuck, Steve.” You keened, focusing on the pleasure and stretch jumbled all in one.
“That’s a good girl.” He praised lowly.
You tightened around his girth, eyes shutting blissfully at the overwhelming feeling and the praise that spilled past his lips. He noticed it right away, chuckling more so at himself because all of the times he had called you pet names for fun, perhaps you liked it more than you let on.
“You like being called a good girl?” He challenged, his free hand tightening around your hips to stop you from rocking against him.
You whined through a nod, opening your eyes and pleading for him to let you keep up the movements.
“Words.” He urged, still not giving into you until he heard what he needed to hear.
You swallowed thickly, lips parting as you whispered softly. “Y–yeah, like when you call me that.”
He smirked, leaning up just enough to peck your lips, mumbling against them as his arm loosened from your hips and he settled comfortably on his back. Slowly but surely your hips proceeded where they left off, moving experimentally taking the time to adjust to his sheer size.
“Atta girl, gotta tell me what you like so I can make you feel good baby.”
“L-like it when you talk to me.”
“You do?’
You hummed quickly, nodding your head, “So much.”
Growing needier you lifted your hips up slightly before fucking yourself back down onto him. Your lips parted with a pleasurable moan while he growled, throwing his head back against the pillows.
“Oh, there you go sweet girl. Fuck, already taking me so good.” He said, digging his fingertips into your hip bone.
“F-full, m’so full of you.” You sighed, slowly repeating your movements trying to make it last as long as you could.
“But you love it right?” He murmured, words soothing and arousing at the same time.
You nodded admittingly, “Please don’t stop…S-steve please,”
The shake of your thighs and the uneven grinding told him all he needed to know, and he was more than happy to let you sit back and give you your second fix of the night.
He pressed himself off his back, arms wrapping around your body and hugging you close. Your limbs enveloping his neck while you rested your forehead against his, breathy moans leaving your lips as the new position pushed him deeper within you if that was even possible.
Steve’s lips brushed yours, an oath tumbling past them, “I won’t baby, promise. Just wanna make you feel good okay? Be a good girl.”
It was all you needed to hear before the waves of pleasure came crashing down with no breaks. You were practically putty in his hands, your hips moving against him the way he wanted you to. He set the pace and found the rhythm that had you nearly slumping against him.
“So fucking tight, your pussy’s squeezing me baby,” He muttered, lifting your hips higher as his own thrusted deeper from below.
“Making me feel so good, princess. Does it feel good for you too? Just what you need right?”
If you weren’t so blissed out with pleasure, perhaps you would have the ability to actually give him the words he wanted to hear, but you felt an entire universe away, so caught up in Steve and everything he was making you feel. His words were only taking you higher, adding to pleasure and bringing you closer to the end.
You managed to take a sharp breath in, jaw shaking as your teary eyes blinked at him, “J-just need you now…only want you.”
He moaned darkly, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he tried to starve off his own orgasm that was teetering the edge. The only thing keeping him from letting go was making sure that you got there first, just so he could watch you unravel and hear the sweet sounds that could never be erased from his memory.
“C’mere, sweetheart,”
His thrusts slowed just enough for one of his hands to snake up towards the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss before guiding your head into the juncture of his neck.
“It’ll go deeper this way,” He murmured, placing a quick peck to your cheek before continuing the onslaught of ecstasy.
“Oh God…Steve….” You whimpered, nails digging into his skin.
“You’re mine now.” He said through gritted teeth, fingertips practically bruising your back, “no one’s gonna get you like this except me, got that?”
All you could do was nod against him, humming out an agreement as you tried to keep your voice down, finally aware that your friends would be able to hear you both if you didn’t try to get a semblance of control.
“Fuck, shit babe, so perfect, just taking all of me inside you huh? You’re the only one who ever made me feel this— shit, so good.”
He was just making it harder for you to keep quiet at that point.
“O–only want you…I–I only want you like this.” You murmured, pulling your face away from his neck just enough for his eyes to catch yours.
Steve couldn’t help himself, thrusting up into you with a slow yet deep vigor, bringing his lips to yours and stealing your breath away. He never quite imagined that this was the way you both would be confessing your feelings and begging to finally be each others’ but he wasn’t complaining — he just wanted to seal the deal and show you how real it was to him.
“Cum for me, baby. Be a good girl and do it for me…just me.” He mumbled against you, feeling the tightening around his shaft, the convulsing of your walls signaling your release.
“F-fuck! Oh my god, Steve.”
Your body shook, eyes shutting tightly as your hips rutted against his stilled ones letting you ride out your orgasm as he held your tight and shushed your moans soothingly.
You slowly opened your eyes, staring at him dazingly, “Wanna feel you cum, give it to me, please.”
He nodded, letting your face untuck itself from his neck and instead grabbing his cheeks to keep his eyes on yours. Eyes silently begging for his release while your lips parted with shallow moans still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm followed by a small ripple of pleasure that came again.
His thrusts became frantic, nose flaring with a deep breath taken, pushing his hips as far as they could go forcing you to collapse against him as he filled you.
“That’s it, baby…hmm, so deep.” You smiled lazily into his chest, nails raking down gently across his shoulders and down his arms as he came down.
His heartbeat rang through your ears along with the uneven breathing the both of you were sharing, letting the
“Well,” He huffed, staring down at you, smoothing your tousled hair down, “That’s one way to warm up.”
You rolled your eyes playfully, smacking his cheek with a soft pat, “Hypothermia wasn’t gonna kill me. You almost did.”
“Did I really fuck you that good?” He smirked smugly.
“Don’t make me start hating you, again.” You threatened with a yawn, eyes fluttering shut and relaxing into him.
“Kidding babe,” He said, kissing the top of your head before patting the small of your back, “Let me get some clothes on you.”
He pulled out of you, quietly apologizing for the emptiness before cleaning you and himself up. His t-shirt covered your body and he managed to slip your underwear back over your legs. Steve settled for his sweatpants, no shirt, just letting the blanket and your body heat keep him warm throughout the night.
“We’ll talk about this more…in the morning? O–or when we get back home?” You proposed sleepily, snuggling deeper into his body, weakly throwing one of your legs over his hips.
His big hands came down under the blanket, caressing your skin with soft passes as he hummed pulling you closer, “Yeah baby, we’ll talk about it, then.”
There you and Steve Harrington were, spending your first night together but not as mortal enemies — you guys had practically fucked the hatred out of each other, but really... it never existed in the first place.
BONUS SCENE:
You did a one over at the trunk of the van, mentally ticking off every item and looking back at the campsite to make sure you all didn’t leave anything behind. Steve was busy checking the tires making sure they all had enough air for the drive back that way there would be no issues. You shut the trunk closed, making your way over to the passenger door that was kicked open with Eddie smoking a cigarette.
“You’re in my seat.” You cross your arms over your chest, foot tapping against the asphalt as Eddie stared at you confused.
“You’re mistaken…this is my seat.” He retorted with a chuckle, gesturing to himself before blowing out a puff of smoke into the air.
“Not anymore.”
“It’s literally my van.”
You rolled your eyes, lamely gesturing back to the site where the tents were once set up, “And you literally kicked me out of my tent to almost freeze to death, therefore you owe me. Now get out of my seat.”
“I’m not moving.” He said, standing his ground.
“Move.” You commanded, reaching to tug him by the arm though he didn’t budge.
“Nope.”
“Fine,” You huffed, dropping his arm before calling out, “Steve!”
He came around the front of the van, dusting his hands off and jutting his chin towards the both of you.
“What’s going on?”
You pouted deeply, eyes sulking towards your friend who tsked and rolled his eyes at your feigned innocence. “Eddie won’t let me sit in the passenger seat.”
“My van, my rules.” Eddie smirked, tapping the hood of the car.
Steve stared at you both, shaking his head in amusement before turning to his friend, “Dude, c’mon, just let her sit up front this once.”
Eddie’s face twisted in betrayal, obviously Steve was already wrapped around your pinky and he just couldn’t believe he was this easy. “You’re shitting me right? I thought I was your right hand man Harrington?”
You snorted, eyes glancing up at Steve with a blush coating your cheeks, “Oh trust me he doesn’t need a right hand anything when he has me—”
Eddie faked a gag, finally relenting and stepping out of the seat. He stubbed out his cigarette on the gravel and waved his hands in surrender.
“Take it for all I care! Just keep your goddamn hands to yourself, and I mean it Steve, both hands on the wheel!” He shouted, whipping the back door open and cramming himself between the rest of your friends who laughed at him for thinking that Steve was going to save his ass.
“You must be proud of yourself, huh?” Steve chuckled, giving you a hand as you stepped up the siding and slid into the seat comfortably.
“Very.” You responded, bending out an inch to peck his lips not caring that your friends saw the act.
Steve smiled against your lips, hands coming to rest over your waist, practically lurching himself across your body as you whispered quietly for only him to hear.
“Now come on… you promised we would use your bed the next right, remember.”
His eyes widened, cheeks turning red as he swallowed and finally pulled himself away from you, “Oh I remember.” He smiled, tapping your knee before he shut your door, “Buckle up, princess.”
💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌
a/n: so this is my very first enemies to lover fics...(at least i think it is????), this was actutally supposed to be very short and brief, almost a one shot/blurb kinda thing but it turned into a feature length fic...is anyone surprised hahaha. anyways, i hope you guys like this!!! i don't usually write smut because I feel like i suck at writing it and describing it but i hope i was able to do this fic justice -- let me know what you guys think and thank you so much for sticking around <;3
taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @the-alchemys @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3
#munsonsreputation#steve stranger things#steve harrington stranger things#steve harrington smut#steve harrington one shot#stranger things steve#steve harrington#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington angst#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve x y/n#steve x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington oneshot#stranger things imagines#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things imagine#stranger things#stranger things smut
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Steve had this habit, a habit which most of the party were annoyed by. They understood it, God did they understand. But after everything was over and the Upside Down was gone for good, it kept happening. Months and months of daily calls. Just Steve checking in and asking them about their day.
Mike hadn't understood why he was on the list of names Steve would call, but if he didn't pick up the phone, there would be a knock on the door within the hour. And Steve, sometimes followed by Robin, would stop by like he was that important to them. Once, it had been on their way to work, and Steve had only locked eyes with him and raised an eyebrow. Mike just flipped him off and continued reading his comic.
Dustin had told him it was Steve's way of coping, and Lucas had turned the calls into workouts with the older teen. Will had just gone a little red and nodded along. El smiled and told Mike about the tips for hair care she got. Max just rolled her eyes and said that Steve had taken to stopping by with food most days.
Steve would be there. He was always there. It was annoying, but it was a constant. Maybe that's why Mike laid awake as the clock ticked closer and closer to midnight. Normally, he could fall asleep within minutes, a habit he had inherited from his dad. But he could bring himself to sleep as his phone didn't ring. As the walkie stayed silent. As the door remained untouched, no knock to be heard.
And it was stupid. Because Mike didn't want Steve to call him every day just to ask him if he was okay. It made him feel like a kid. It reminded Mike of his mom, but even his mom wasn't that bad. No, no one really did that for Mike. No one checked in day after day even as he remained uncaring towards them. No one but Steve.
Until now...
Mike watched the clock as it passed midnight, and his stomach twisted into knots. Fear bubbled up, and he pictured Steve getting into a fight he couldn't walk away from. He pictured a car crash so great that Steve was unable to reach for the walkie he carried with him everywhere. He pictured the worst- the Upside Down still around. The demogorgon coming up and dragging Steve into that hellpit.
Mike was up and pulling on a warm sweatshirt before those images were fully formed. He crawled out his window and down the roof, not too unlike the way Steve had done to visit Nancy. It left him already out of breath by the time he climbed on his bike. But that didn't stop him. He pushed off the ground, biking as fast as he could towards Loch Nora.
The cold air hot his face, and the road seemed to go on forever, but Mike didn't stop. He couldn't stop. Not until Steve's place was in view.
Mike tossed his bike uncarringly onto the pavement before slamming his fist into the Harrington's nice door. He didn't let up. He couldn't as an image of Steve dead in his own pool floated in his mind.
However, then the door was opening. Steve stood there, looking like he hadn't been asleep either. A smear of white powder on his cheek and a hollowness in his eyes. But still, something eased in Mike the same time Steve lost some of that weight in his shoulders as well. "You- you didn't-" Mike started, still out of breath. "Call. Why didn't you- call?" He gasped and Steve looked at him with a weird expression.
"You- What?" Steve questioned, sounding lost.
Mike crossed his arms, "I- you can't just stop!" He gasped out, and Steve's brow furrowed.
"But you don't like it when I do? I annoy you," he tries to point out, and Mike huffs.
"God, of course you annoy me! You track our days more intensly than my mom, and you always make dumb jokes, and I hate that I find them funny! You always call when I'm in the middle of something, and you make it easy to stay on the phone! You are always there like some weird older brother that I never asked for!" Mike shouts and Steve's eyes are wide.
"You don't have to stay around or call, but you do! You do, and you actually care. Like when you call and ask me if I'm okay, it feels like you care, and I don't understand why! I don't get you! I didn't ask you to care about me, but even when you were dating Nancy, you cared! You took Holly and me to get ice cream even though Nancy had to study! You give me and my friends rides everywhere! You care!" Mike throws his hands up in the air.
He glares at the older teen, "You care so much that I stupidly care about you! I care enough to come and check on you because when you didn't call, all I could think was that you were like dead or something," Mike snaps and takes a step back. "But you're obviously fine so-" and he wants to run suddenly. To run from the way Steve's eyes are filled with tears or the stupid words he just told the older teen.
Steve runs a hand through his hair, tugging slightly. "Mike, I stopped because I didn't think you wanted me to. You always acted like I was your least favorite person in the world and I guess I just- I didn't feel like it was fair to force you to put up with me just because I can't handle not knowing if you were okay." Steve said, and it didn't sound like the normal Steve. He sounded tired and nervous. He sounded like someone had finally beaten him
Mike bites his lip and tastes salt like he had been crying. Or maybe he still was. He crosses his arms like he can shield himself from this conversation. "But now you don't care enough to keep calling?"
Steve rubbed his face, a sigh shaking his whole body as he did. "I still care, kid."
Mike scoffs, "You didn't call."
Steve drops his hands to his sides. "Just come inside. It's too late for you to bike home. I'll call your place and leave a message." Steve says, his voice sounding close to tears. Mike is stiff when he lets Steve pull him inside.
They are quiet as Steve guides him towards the kitchen. The kitchen that has music playing softly and smelling like a bake sale. He blinks as he steps into the room and spots cookies cooling on a rack and a pie stilling uncooked on the counter. The top crust is sitting on the counter next to it. There's a smell of something in the oven, and Mike states at all of it in confusion.
"I bake when I can't relax," Steve admits, and Mike glances over at him. "I still care, and I was trying to give you space. I was trying not to crowd you, so I just," and he waves his hand around the mess everywhere. The smear of white on his cheek now makes sense.
Mike hugged himself, "I don't- I don't mind the calls." He whispered, and it got a snort from Steve.
He looked over at Mike, "I kinda got that from your speech."
They stood there in silence for another moment before Steve moved to finish putting his pie together. "I know that we aren't close or anything. But I care, it's not just the Upside Down making me anxious, it's just that-" and Steve went quiet. "I went overboard, I get it. But now I just- I can't stop." He admits, and Mike hates how upset Steve sounds. How guilty he sounds.
"I fall asleep easier knowing that if someone wasn't okay, we'd know because of you. It's like you take all the stress from me just by being around." He says, and Steve's eyes are wide. "Maybe we just do a sound off every night so you don't have to play phone tag all day." He shrugs, and Steve wrinkles his nose.
"I don't really get how to use the walkie. Like Dustin tried to show me, but he got distracted and started talking about radio waves and well..." Steve mimed it going over his head.
Mike snorted to hide how much that terrified him. The thought of something bad happening and Steve not being able to respond. But he pushed it away as Steve looked at him as if waiting for Mike to tease him. "That's fair. We did modify them, so they worked better. It's not as simple as your average walkie. I can show you," he offered, and Steve's face split into a grin.
"Cool, want to help me finish this so I can put it in the fridge until tomorrow? Then you can teach me the ways," Steve says, going all dramatic, proving to Mike he'd been spending too much time with Eddie. Mike groaned but came over only for Steve to shove him to the sink to wash his hands.
Steve showed him what to do, and Mike was glad to have Steve around. Because sure Steve's habit was annoying, and sometimes it interfered with Mike's plans, but it was nice too. Steve was nice. And that was something Mike ever believed would happen. But as Steve joked that Mike should not become a baker, he was nice. Like the way Mike was nice to Holly or how Nancy was nice to him. He was part of the family, annoyingly nice habits and all.
#stranger things#mike wheeler#steve harrington#trauma response#mike needs a hug#steve needs a hug#knightly talks
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Now that I’m back working retail, I can’t get the image of Corroded Coffin becoming one of the vintage band tees you see on graphic tee walls. They’d be up there with Metallica and Black Sabbath, made for everyone to wear for the fashion of it rather than their love of the band.
Everyone would expect Eddie to be outraged when it first starts to happen — all these fake fans and posers wearing his merch without knowing who he is at all. And at first, sure he didn’t love it but at the same time… money is money and he’s got kids to put through school. His own are already out of college, with their fancy degrees and stable jobs, but a slew of nieces and nephews, and a few great ones now (Jesus Christ he’s old) from the Party that are even smarter than their genius parents and those tuitions aren’t cheap. Famous Uncle Eddie feels like it’s his duty to help with their tuitions to the ivys or whatever, so if Jenny, the wine mom from down the street, wants to wear a brand new, yet distressed tee with the logo he designed across the chest? Let her!
That being said, he doesn’t start loving it until they eventually reach the toddler section. Suddenly, Eddie — who previously had no opinion on whether or not his kids had kids — is begging all three of their kids for grand babies. And he’s not being subtle about it either. He buys the onesies and toddler tees, leaving them where Steve and the kids can see, shipping new designs to his kids “just in case.” All he wants is to see a baby, preferably one he knows, all done up in his merch, repping the band in a matching metal outfit. It’s not his fault all his own babies are two decades past the baby phase!
Steve doesn’t intervene, no matter how much their kids beg and plead. If anything, he thinks it’s hilarious that suddenly Eddie’s the one all baby crazy after the years of him laughing at Steve’s baby fever. Sue him.
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you know what I live for? Misunderstandings. Angst. Fluff.
You bit your lip hearing Bucky's conversation with his two closest friends, the three men sitting together in the living room. It clearly wasn't a conversation for anyone else's ears but you couldn't move from the spot you were glued to.
“I-I think I should tell y/n” Bucky sighed, pacing up and down the living room while Sam and Steve were silently judging the super soldier.
"Seriously? This little affair still going on?" Sam shook his head while Bucky gave him a small nod.
“I really like her” He whispered, fiddling with his fingers.
“Well you got tell her, no point keeping it to yourself at this point, she deserves to know. It's been going on for long enough Buck” Steve gave Bucky a pointed look.
“She makes me feel safe. It’s different. I love y/n, but-" Bucky flopped onto the couch, staring up a the ridiculously high ceiling.
“But?”
“This-this is different. I-I think I love her-”
“Do you hear yourself right now” Sam said incredulously, not feeling an ounce of sympathy for him, "You brought this on yourself so deal with it"
“I know” Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's just-you should see the way she looks at me, her eyes, I didn't mean for it to get this far-
"Save it. Tell y/n" Steve stated, not willing for any of this to go on any longer. This wasn't the first time his bestfriend brought up this topic and he was certain it wouldn't be the last unless Bucky came clean.
You hadn't even realized you'd started crying until you struggled to choke back a sob, slapping your hand over your mouth and running off to your room instead. Bucky frowned at the soft sniffle he thought he heard, craning his neck to see an empty hallway.
"Did you hear that?" He turned to Steve who shared the same look of concern. "Fuck, do you think that was y/n?" His heart raced further, desperately wanting to run over to you, looking at the clock and realizing it was also time for him to see her. As much as he loved you, he had to go to her first.
He didn't have a choice.
-
A soft knock at the door pulled you from your misery, your boyfriends pleading voice muffled on the other side.
"Baby?" Bucky knocked again, desperately hoping you'd let him in and give him a chance to explain himself. He never intended for any of this to happen. He finally decided to let himself in, opening the door, his heart dropping seeing your sad, pouty face, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets. He knew you'd overheard him so there was no point in hiding anything anymore.
"This isn't how I wanted you to find out" Bucky spoke softly, shuffling at the door, guilt plastered all over his face. He closed the door behind him before walking over to the bed and sitting beside you. Before you could say anything, he shifted closer to you, nervously biting his lip.
"Her name is Alpine" Tucked into the crook of his arm was a tiny white kitten no more than a few weeks old, happily cuddled into the warmth of his chest. She looked up at him with bright blue eyes, blinking slowly while he cooed, seeing she was up from her nap.
"This is who you were talking to Sam and Steve about?" You asked nervously while Bucky sheepishly nodded, giving you an apologetic smile for his dramatics.
"I've been taking care of her. I know we're not allowed to have pets but I couldn't just leave her there in the cold" Bucky whispered, petting her small head with his finger while she batted at his tags. You giggled at how soft your boyfriend was for the tiny kitten, the furbaby having him wrapped around her little paws.
"I found her while I was out on a run, she was by one of the bushes. I don't think her mom came back for her, she was alone. She was so tiny, she would've died" Bucky felt his throat tighten, remembering the day he'd heard her cries from the garden, her tiny form fitting into the palm of his hand. She'd been days old, waiting for someone to find her.
"I've been feeding her every couple hours, got a box set up by the bush with some blankets but she can't stay there forever. Steve caught me checking on her a few days ago" Bucky looked at you with puppy eyes, hoping you'd understand what he was asking.
"Is this where you've been running off to?" You shook your head while he smiled down at the kitten, proud of how much she'd grown.
"Can we keep her? I don't to put her in a shelter, she'll be scared and she just got comfortable letting me hold her, I don't want her to feel abandoned-"
"We'll keep her. Let's talk to Tony tomorrow" You hushed your boyfriends nervous rambling with a soft kiss to his sweet lips, rubbing your thumb along his jaw.
"Really?" His eyes lit up, bright and blue, matching the baby that stole his heart.
"Really, you big softie" You teased, loving your teddybear of a boyfriend.
"I'm sorry I worried you" Bucky whispered, pulling you to sit in his lap, his two favorite girls cuddling into him.
-
"He finally came clean" Sam snorted, seeing you and Bucky sprawled on the floor, surrounded by a bunch of cat toys, with a blur of white fur jumping between the two of you. "How'd you convince Stark"
"Didn't take much to be honest" you giggled; Tony tried to put up a stoic front, melted instantly as soon as Alpine crawled up his leg, purring into the crook of his neck. "He bought her a heated cat bed and automatic food dispenser"
Alpine stretched across the warm giant couch, curling up under a patch of sun while Bucky looked at her with hearteyes.
"I have competition with a cat" You playfully frowned while Bucky shook his head, scooping you into his arms immediately.
"Never babydoll, you're my everything"
I thought I overheard you saying she's different" You nudged him while he tried to defend himself again, only to fail miserably.
"He's lying y/n, he talked about her eyes and the way she looks at him" Sam chimed in, while Bucky hid himself into the crook of your neck. "And how he thinks he loves her"
"Shut up Sam"
"Such a softie"
#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#Bucky barnes angst#bucky banres#james bucky buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky fluff#bucky x you#bucky imagine#bucky barnes fan fic#bucky barnes fan fiction#bucky fan fic#bucky fan fiction#bucky fanfic#bucky x fluff#bucky x angst#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes imagine#marvel angst#avengers fluff
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If I Should Stay
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
He’s staring at him.
Steve Harrington is staring at Eddie Munson.
The thing is, people don’t just stare at Eddie. Not for any reason that means anything good for Eddie. So when, completely unprompted, the fucking King of Hawkins High walks up to Eddie and says, “I need to talk to you,” Eddie thinks he’s entirely justified in the squeak he lets out.
“You? Talk? To me?” Wow. Great job, brain.
“Please,” Harrington whispers, and Eddie thinks desperately this must be some kind of joke, except he’s good at reading people, and he knows the desperation in Harrington’s eyes.
“Okay,” he says, stammers. “Um. There- there’s, behind the school, a, uh-”
“Table,” Harrington nods. “That works. Just…” he sighs, rakes a hand through his hair. “Leave the lunchbox at home.”
Eddie’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “Then what the fuck do you want with me, dude?”
“I can’t explain. Not here, not now. Just. Please. After school, okay?”
Eddie looks at him. Really looks, studies his face, understands the lines by his eyes, the tightness of his mouth. His heart thumps as he realizes. He’s scared. “Okay,” he says, and means it.
Eddie’s a man of his word, so after school he makes his way to the table, pausing when it comes into view. Harrington’s already there, sitting with his head in his hands. Eddie calls out from a couple of paces away. “You sure you don’t want anything from the lunchbox?”
Harrington jumps, hands up, eyes round. Relaxes a little when he sees Eddie. “No. I- I’m good. I can’t, actually.”
Eddie frowns. “What, like, a sports thing? No one’s gotta know, dude, I’ve never been busted, I can keep a secret.”
Steve gives him a half-smile. “No. It’s- it’s not a sports thing. Just… sit down? And promise to listen?”
“Okay,” Eddie says, because he knows how comforting it can be to just have someone there, and he’s not a dick; clearly Harrington’s going through something. Though why he approached Eddie, of all people, he doesn’t know.
“Okay,” Harrington repeats back, taking a breath before starting. “If I were to tell you I’m from the future, a future in which we know each other, how would you ask me to prove it?”
Eddie blinks. He was ready for a lot of things, but not time travel. “Um. I dunno, man, I haven’t really thought about it.”
He takes another deep breath. “Can I try?”
“To- to prove you’re from the future?”
“Yeah.”
Eddie laughs, a little hysterically. “Man, where the fuck do I get the strain you’re on?”
He blinks. “What?”
Eddie gestures at him. “Come on, man, you have to admit you’re not really making sense here.”
Harrington sighs. Takes another breath. Says, “You live with your uncle Wayne. Your father taught you to hot wire cars when you were nine. You listen to Dio and Metallica and Ozzy Osbourne but your favorite song is I Will Always Love You, by Dolly Parton, because it was your mom’s favorite. The guitar pick you wear around your neck was hers. She taught you guitar. You love The Hobbit. Stop me when I’ve said enough.”
Eddie’s never been more scared in his life. “Listen, man, I dunno where you heard all that-”
“Eddie,” he says, implores, and digs something out of his pocket. Opens his hand to reveal a ring.
A ring Eddie already has on his finger.
“What the fuck,” Eddie whispers. Grabs for the ring before he can tell himself it’s a bad idea. Examines it, sees the dent from where his finger had gotten smashed in a door.
His hands start shaking.
“I’m from 1987,” Steve Harrington says, sure as anything. “And I’m trying to stop something terrible.”
“And what would that be?” Eddie asks, feeling strangely detached from the whole thing.
“Your death,” Steve Harrington says, still sure as anything.
Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect
#if I should stay#do I need to be starting another wip?#no#do I need help?#yes. probably#will I get any?#hahahahaha no.#probably not#anyways I don’t know why Steve went back in time. we’re gonna figure it out as we go along#or we won’t#this is my excuse to write Steddie#and to write Eddie into the script earlier than he actually was#stranger things#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#starambles
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𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐞
(A Lisa Frankenstein, Eddie Munson AU)
next ┊ 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
Summary: After a series of unfortunate events in your life, and lonelier than ever, you often turn to a dead guy and his tombstone for comfort. Never in your wildest, fucked up dreams did you imagine he’d turn to you for the same thing, but you find yourself hiding a living corpse, bringing him further to life, reaping some justice, and cutting off a lot of body parts all while trying to fit in and falling in love.
a/n: Part One is here! Just want to say thank you to my friends for hearing me rant and rave about Lisa Frankenstein for weeks now, though I’ve been unbearable with this concept in my head. This will be the longest chapter, just to establish some stuff, but we’ll get to the slaying! Hope you love Undead!Zombie!Eddie as much as I do. Happy reading! (p.s.,there will be some romantic smut in a later part)
Chapter warnings: a bit steve harrington x reader, some eddie munson x other female, death of a family member, brief description of SA (bordered with RED DIVIDERS if you’d like to skip), mistreatment of Reader, suicidal ideation (reader just has dark humor), implied murder, very campy, very cunty.
THEN, 1986.
“Where you head’n too so in a hurry, boy?” Wayne Munson asked, sat on the couch with a mug of steaming hot coffee in one hand and the television remote in the other as he watched his nephew bounce around the trailer, grabbing all of the the items he let haphazardly around.
Wayne always told him to pick up his things, but like the rambunctious boy he was, there was no breaking out of his messy habits.
“I got people to see, pops. Things to do. Trouble to ‘cause, cops to anger, you know the drill.” Eddie didn’t even need to turn around to know his uncle was scowling but he was proven correct when he turned to throw his father figure a shit eating grin over his shoulder, “Kidding, old man. Mom had me baptized when I was a baby, remember? I can do no wrong, like Achilles.”
“Wha’?”
“Ugh, dad. If I have to explain the joke, it ruins it. I’ll be back by dinner, alright?”
Wayne fixed him with a pointed look, “You best be on your best behavior, you hear me?”
“Always.” Eddie gave a mock salute before dipping out the front door, still grinning as he tossed the keys of the van and caught them midair.
While he wasn’t necessarily going to cause trouble, he certainly would be providing the fun grass, powder and pills that were often behind it. Eddie knew Wayne was aware of what he did, had implied so when talking about how he knew Eddie was a good kid, just living in the wrong circumstances sometimes. Always said he wanted nothing but the best for his boy and for Eddie to realize he was meant for more than what this particular town forced on him.
Made Eddie’s chest tight, but seeing things like the broken patio board—Eddie had accidentally stomped through it after seeing a spider—reinforced Eddie’s belief that he’d much rather help out any way he could than let his uncle bear the financial weight of providing for him.
The van roared to life, after sputtering for a good seven seconds, and Eddie revved the engine a little. As he let her warm up, something in the side mirror caught his attention.
Someone.
Sheila. His neighbor in the trailer across the street. She was hauling a box to a car, looked rather heavy and Eddie would have dropped everything to scramble over and help her, had it not been for Mr.Brawn at her side.
Eddie watched as the guy, who stole the girl he was in love with right out of his arms, grabbed the box. The two lovers exchanged words which ended with them laughing at something as she followed him to the car.
He slid the box into the packed car as she climbed into the passenger seat, and before Eddie knew it, he was watching her drive away, right out of his life forever.
Eddie hadn’t even realized he was clutching his steering wheel so tight, his knuckles were straining against the skin, hot tears pooling at his waterline but he refused to let them fall. He’d shed more than enough tears over her, over what could have been.
They started off so promising; throwing flirty waves from their bedroom windows, occasionally at school, before she approached him for weed. After that, came the whirlwind romance and Eddie hadn’t considered himself a romantic before—hadn’t had a whole lot of opportunities to make that discovery but he was so fucking romantic. A big sap. And he wasn’t ashamed of it.
Until she’d graduated, and he hadn’t. Again. Turns out, not trying at academics all year and then aiming to ace finals wasn’t enough.
Suddenly, all the bullshit naive plans they had to run away somewhere far from Hawkins weren’t possible. At least, Sheila couldn’t with Eddie.
He lost her to a guy in another band, had made the mistake of taking a piss after he and Corroded Coffin performed to their tiny ass crowd, and had come back to see her talking to the keyboardist of the band that had gone on before them. She looked entranced, leaning forward to hang on to whatever the fuck he was saying. When Eddie had gone over to ask her if she was ready to head out, fully prepared to tuck her under his arm and way from the keyboardist, she’d insisted and told him to his face, in front of his apparent competition, that she was gonna stick around a little longer and he should head out without her.
He’d spent the entire night pacing in front of his window, glancing out of it every five minutes and every time he heard a pair of wheels turn onto the dirt road. Eddie got his confirmation when his car happened to be one of them. He’d watched, heart splintering, as the keyboardist got out of the car and walked around to open her door for her before they disappeared into her trailer. Eddie knew her dad worked nights. Knew what she and that musician were doing and he’d thrown up the entire contents of his stomach at the imagery before passing out.
Eddie woke up to Sheila hovering above him and framed by the glow of the bathroom light like some angel. She’d dumped him right there and left the spare key he’d trusted her with on the table.
And now, she was living her dream with someone else while Eddie got to stick around this shitty town with these people who could barely stand him for no reason (and yeah, okay, maybe he’d poke their buttons). In truth, while he was a little heartbroken over her, it was the fact that she still got her happy ending that hurt the most.
The girls around Hawkins might have been interested in maybe hooking up with him, but they weren’t interested in being Eddie’s girl. Weren’t interested in falling stupid in love with him, making plans to start a life together. Didn’t want him in their plans.
Eddie Munson was lonely. And it sucked.
With a heavy sigh, he cranked on the radio, fingers twisting the volume dial up to the most obnoxious level before shifting the gear to drive.
“It’ll get better, Munson. Love ain’t no stranger.” He mumbled, sucking on his teeth and pulling out on the road.
If he had known then where it would lead him, where the night would take him, he would have at least hugged his uncle. It would be the last time he saw him, and it would be the last time Wayne Munson saw his nephew alive.
Three days later, he’d be identifying and weeping over his boy’s body in the morgue after reporting Eddie missing when he didn’t come home.
NOW, 1989
“Where are you going? It’s almost time for breakfast.” Chrissy called out, head poking out from her bedroom as she watched you race down the hall.
“Not hungry! I’ll be back soon!” You called over your shoulder, the large sheet of craft paper wrinkling in your hand as you took the stairs two at a time before bounding down the short entryway.
You’d almost crossed the foyer and then slammed yourself back against the wall as you saw Laura, Chrissy’s mom, fiddling with something at the table. She had the radio on, some garbage self help tape spewing nonsense to her, and that condescending smile on her face.
Yeah, you’d be avoiding her, lest you wish to be verbally and eloquently belittled. How Chrissy came out of her toxic womb to be such a good person, you’d never understand.
When Laura crossed into the kitchen, you sprinted for the door, fumbling a little with the knob in your urgency, but once you got it open, you were out, running across the walkway and the fencing around the house until you were in the woods behind it.
Only then did you feel safe, the trees a welcome reprieve from your living situation, the magnifying glass this new town had you under, and from the world in general.
You’d come from a small town before Hawkins, so you were used to small town living. But these people were so judgemental. You hadn’t even grabbed a box from the moving van before your neighbors were casting you snide looks, noses turning up and backs to you as they watered their yard and lounged about.
Four months later, nothing had changed. If anything, they were more open with their disdain for you, commenting on your demeanor (and you were a cool fucking person), outfits, hair, body. It was annoying. They were annoying. EVERYTHING was annoying.
You didn’t even want to be there but you had no real choice. You’d graduated high school a couple of years ago and despite the popular teenage notion that you’d simply pack up your things, go to college and be successful at whatever career you wanted, life did not happen like the movies. The freedom you’d been promised by your own delusions never came. That bitch came with a hefty price tag and you weren’t exactly jumping into a safe of gold coins like Scrooge McDuck with your minimum wage job.
You’d gotten into several schools of your choice, but scholarships wouldn’t be nearly enough to cover it, and you’d literally have to sell your entire body to science if you wanted to be able to afford the loans you were being offered, since their interest rates were higher than the standard human beings’ lifespan.
So, living with the ‘rents was checked off on your list of things you didn’t want to continue doing past your high school graduation. And hey—you were only 19 years-old! You were still young! Just save up a few years, and maybe one day you’d be able to think about taking a loan. You had time. What could possibly go wrong to throw your plans off?
Your mother was murdered.
Yeah, that was a bummer. Could’ve been worse, you supposed. You could have died with her, when your home had been broken into, and sometimes you wish you had. Alas, you were still breathing, albeit extremely traumatized. But only good ol’ mom was six feet in the ground, in an entirely different town, because your father had also moved on a mere few months after her death, with the worst woman to leave flaming footprints on the earth’s crust, and they’d eloped after like six dates before moving you to a town where you knew no one.
Thinking about it actually made you sick and feel a little delusional.
The only real good thing about your entire soap opera of a year was the community college you’d been able to enroll in. You had no real idea what you wanted to do in life, had no real drive for career paths, but you were doing something, and that something kept the she-devil that was your stepmother off your back. Most of the time. Some of the time. She couldn’t say you were a deadbeat yet.
Chrissy, your sweet to a definitive and insensitive fault step-sister had pushed you into going with her for registration. Convinced you it was the perfect way to make some friends. It was hard to say no to Chrissy, she had a way with people and could make the meekest soul feel like they were capable of anything and everything. She could always see the best in people, and she was outgoing. Your time in Hawkins had been brief, but you’d easily gathered Chrissy was popular, a former cheerleader (and she’d successfully tried out for the community college team) and beloved by all. While part of you felt a little jealous at her confidence, you admired her more. She was never intentionally mean to you, either. She made the occasional comment, but it seemed like Chrissy had more so a filter problem, rather than spitting anything out with sugar coated hostility like her mother. Chrissy was...nice. After everything you've been through, you could use a little nice in your life.
And sometimes nice was also the woods behind your house, as it led to the Hawkins’ Cemetery.
Morbid, sure, but you couldn’t help yourself. After a particularly nasty encounter with Laura the first week of your Hawkins sentence, and feeling lonelier than you’d ever felt before, you’d gone for a walk, tears decorating your face with wet trails as you tried to physically hold yourself together, arms wrapped around yourself.
You’d arrived at the cemetery, and because you couldn’t pay your mother a visit, you decided the only decent thing to do was visit other lonely souls.
You’d stopped to pay your respects to just about every tombstone and plaque, but one in particular caught your attention.
Tucked away in a corner and separate from the other graves, under a weeping willow, was the most damaged tombstone of them all. Parts of it were broken off, a lot of the information pertaining to the individual underneath it was seemingly grated off. You had no idea who it was, the only remaining legible letters were MUN and you figured it was he simply because you’d taken some paper to the tombstone for etching and ran a black crayon over it. You’d been able to make out the word ‘he’ on the paper and deduced it had once read may he rest in peace.
The state of his tombstone surprised you, given how recent the date of death was. While his birth date had also been worn away, the year of death—1986–had been left. It was 1989. No way his grave should’ve looked like that.
Apparently, even the groundskeeper avoided his part of the cemetery. The grass around his grave was overgrown, and pitiful. So, you’d gone home, grabbed the lawn mower, and pushed it all the way over. You’d ended up disgusting, covered in grass, dirt and sweating like a cheater on a Sunday morning, but his grave was looking better. You’d taken to caring for his grave after that. A bunch of your trinkets and things you'd seen that you immediately thought he’d like surrounded him now and you’d even planted some bluebells.
He also made surprisingly good conversation, even though he never talked to you. His presence, while mostly imaginary to you, was comforting.
So, during any free time you had, you were sat against his tombstone, chatting about your day, life, whatever you wanted. Felt like he was always listening, no matter the subject and it was really lovely to be heard.
When you arrived at the cemetery, it was practically vacant, with just the red headed girl you normally saw. You didn’t see her all the time, she was just one of the faces you saw the most, and that was only a handful of occasions. For the most part, Hawkins didn’t seem keen on remembering the dead.
“Hope you haven’t been lonely without me,” You greeted as you approached his tombstone, ducking under a few low hanging willow branches that still brushed over you anyways. You’d have to ‘borrow’ Laura’s shears soon, the willow tree was hauntingly beautiful around his grave, but you wanted its branches and leaves to frame his grave, not conceal it, “I missed you.”
It was a little odd, but you did.
When you weren’t at his grave, you were thinking about him, trying to put a face to MUN, wondering what his life had been like. Did he have any loved ones? What had his interests been? How had he died? Had he felt as lonely as you did?
“I know, I know.” You settled onto the grass in front of his tombstone, securing the craft paper to his tombstone with some masking tape, “I was just here last night.” You imagined he would say.
“I just can’t stay away from you. You have a very intriguing aura: I can’t see it because you’re dead, and that makes me want to know you more.” You pulled a black crayon from your pocket and went about scribbling on the paper, over where you knew MUN would be etched in stone, “I’ve said it a million times, and you’ve probably turned over in your coffin repeatedly because of it, but you’re the only one who understands me. And you’re the only one here that I care about—probably in the whole world actually, except maybe Chrissy but I know her friends think I’m weird, and I don’t want to drag her down with me.”
Once the letters appeared on the paper, you sprawled out STER and you dropped the crayon to produce a pretty hot pink marker from your pocket instead, signing your name with a little heart to go with it just above the last name you’d crafted for him.
The odds of this dude being a Munster were slim to none, but you thought it was fitting for someone who lived in a cemetery.
You sat back on your haunches to admire it, it was a cute piece. Would look nice on your wall and whenever you missed him and found yourself longing to be near his grave, all you’d have to do is turn on your side and you'd be able to see part of him.
You ripped the paper off his tombstone, and weighed it down on the grass with a rock. With that out of the way, you gave him your full attention, shuffling until your head and shoulder were leaning against the stone, “Would you wanna be dragged down with me? Be seen with me? I’m somewhat of a pariah around here. Did you have better luck when you were still kicking?”
You figured with how fucked up his tombstone had been, probably not. You imagined he’d confirm it, too. Just out right say, ‘Nah, these assholes hated me.’
“Yeah, looks like we’re two peas in a pod.” Then you glanced down, fingers, twirling the blades of grass over his grave, “Or, you know. Casket.”
You let silence fall over you, broken only by the chirping of birds in surrounding trees.
“Goddamit, why do you have to be dead?” Your eyelids fluttered close, and instead of the cold stone, you imagined your head pressed against a warm chest, rising and falling with breaths, and a heartbeat thumping strong below your ear, pushing blood throughout his body. Imagined he was alive, arms slipping around you, firm and strong to hold you together so you didn't have to anymore.
But he wasn’t, and you were reminded when the groundskeeper shouted, “HEY!”
You shot up, glancing around until you saw him by the entrance with a leaf blower, “YOU AWAKE?”
What kind of a dumbass question was that? Sure, it had looked like you were asleep but you were clearly alert now.
“YEAH!” You shrieked back to be heard, and he went back to not caring.
“He can see me leaning against your tombstone, but he can’t see overgrown grass, weeds, rocks, or your grave in general when I’m not here. Men, always so selective, amirite?”
You glanced at the stone, half expecting it to respond. “Eh, what do you know, you’re just a man, too.” You reached your arm back, knuckles trailing over MUN.
“Despite you mouthing off to me most of the time, I brought you something.” You reached into your other pocket and pulled out a necklace, lined with black pearls and a cross pendant. It had been your mother’s. While she had a pension for religion, it wasn’t something you thought about. Dying, sure, but whatever afterlife? Not so much. Felt wrong, sometimes, to carry it around with you—felt like you were disrespecting her a little bit to not believe what she did, even though she had no qualms with it when she was alive. So, you figured why not trust it with the other important person in your life?
“Pretty, huh? It was my mom’s. She’s dead, like you. You wouldn’t happen to have seen her around, would you?” You joked, fingers stroking over the pearls. There was no risk in leaving them with your dead friend, people avoided him and you had a feeling even grave robbers wouldn’t dare step near the willow, so they’d probably be with him for the rest of eternity, “I want you to have them, take care of them for me.”
You placed the necklace over the peak of his tombstone, smiling when they didn’t fall from their place, “Mm, you look good in them. Better than I do, I’m not big on pearls. More of a silver jewelry kind of girl. I could do gold and diamonds, though, only for a wedding ring.”
You held your arm out, admiring your ring hand void of any actual rings, “Nothing too gaudy, of course. That’s what my earrings are for.”
Your eyes trailed from your outstretched fingers, to your wrist, and the watch decorating it. The time made you heave a heavy sigh, “I gotta go. Chrissy’s dragging me to a party tonight, so I’ve got to mentally prepare for that. You’ll think of me while I’m away, won’t you?”
Trailing a finger down the stone, you leaned forward to press your lips to it in a sweet kiss.
“I’ll be back soon, and this time I won’t forget my book of sonnets. I know how much you love the cynical poems I force on you.”
And though you announced your departure, you found it hard to leave him, like you always did. It took all you had to gather your crayon, marker, and your new poster (and you kept dropping all three to have an excuse to linger) and leave the cemetery behind, glancing back impulsively every couple of steps until it was no longer in view, and the moment it wasn’t you wanted to drop everything and run back to him.
You had to remind yourself he was a stranger, who didn’t care for you, rotting in the ground. And it sucked.
“I don’t wanna go.” You announced, staring into the bathroom mirror you shared with Chrissy. You’d just finished your makeup, eyes heavily lined, and lashes coated an electric blue that made your eyes pop. You were always a little heavy handed with your makeup, you figured the whole point of it was to use it as you wanted. Your hair had been manipulated to hell and back, but regardless of what you did, you were unsatisfied with the girl staring back at you, “I’ll just stay home.”
“Not on my watch!” Chrissy declared, reaching in front of you for her pink lipstick. The bathroom counter was littered with your combined beauty products, “This is the first major rager of the year, the perfect social gathering. You need to meet people, sissy.”
You scowled at the idea, “I have met people.”
Chrissy tubed the lipstick bullet, rubbing her lips together as she gave you a concerned side-eye, “People who like you, sissy.”
Ouch, there’s that brutal honesty.
“It’s not good for you to be on your own all the time,” She set the lipstick down so she could place a dainty hand on your shoulder, big blue eyes focused on you, “I worry about you. Daddy and mom worry about you. Your doctor worries about you. You need to get out more.” Chrissy stressed, pink lips pulling into a reassuring smile before she went back to focusing on the mirror and her makeup.
You let out a heavy sigh, mulling her words over. Definitely could have been phrased better, but Chrissy was right. You were currently the town recluse, and occupying your room and the town cemetery wouldn’t change that.
“That blush isn’t the right shade for you, sissy.” Chrissy broke you from your thoughts and your eyes drifted back over to your reflection, the girl looking so unsure and right back at you, “You really have to accentuate your features, compliment them, because you’re already beautiful.”
Didn’t feel like it.
Your expression must have given your inner thoughts away because Chrissy turned to you again, practically bouncing, “Wait a minute, you could use my tanning bed!”
You deadpanned at the mention of the ridiculous full on salon tanning bed that Chrissy owned. There was a dedicated mini garage in the backyard for it, next to the pool, and complete with neon lights, her beauty pageant trophies and sashes as well as her cheer trophies. The PG&E bill was always through the roof for the Tan Shack alone, and you still had no idea how Laura could afford it.
“No, Chrissy I-I don’t think that would work on me. At all.”
Chrissy waved off your concerns, “It’s not about the tan, or even if you can tan. It’s the experience. When I lay in that tanning bed, with those little goggles on my eyes and I can hear the buzzing, I feel myself blooming. Regardless of whether or not my skin actually tans,” It didn’t. Chrissy burned but she somehow still looked good, “I feel amazing about myself.”
“Are you sure that’s not cancer?”
“You’re so funny!” Chrissy laughed even though you were being serious, “Sissy, every girl deserves to feel beautiful. If I can provide you with an experience that might raise those confidence levels that are dragging across a nail-covered floor right now, why wouldn’t I?”
Your eyebrows furrowed, trying to decipher if that was a compliment or not, but you didn’t have long to mull it over before Chrissy was framing your face with her hands.
“And I can. Please, let me do this.”
You groaned, long and drawn out and awkward, before squeezing your eyes shut and slowly nodding your head. She squealed, clapped her hands together and dragged you out of the bathroom.
After explaining how it all worked, Chrissy bid you a cheerful goodbye and left you to your own devices so she could finish getting ready for the night ahead of you both.
You’d selected your tan level, positive you wouldn’t see any real results but maybe the ‘experience’ would benefit you and shed your fuzzy slippers and robe, leaving you in some boy shorts and a tank top as you tried to settle yourself in the tanning bed. The dip was awkward, and you couldn’t get a good grasp on the top of the tanning bed since it was meant to only open and close rather than stay in position so grasping onto it for balance as you lowered yourself in led to you conking yourself on the head with a noticeable bonk.
You hissed in pain, rubbing the sore area as you clambered the rest to the way in. Once you’d stretched your legs out, lowered the top, maneuvered the goggles over your face and waited for the magic to happen as you were surrounded by neon blue lights.
You heard the buzzing as the tanning bed started up. The magic happened alright. The entire tanning bed shocked you, and you shrieked as you felt the intense electric current ripple throughout your body, sparking every single pore in the worst way possible.
“I’m so sorry you got electrocuted, sissy.”
Chrissy broke the silence as you sulked in the passenger seat, your hair a little bigger than normal and not a result of styling. After getting all five senses shocked out of you, you’d come out with a hairdo that would not usually be up to par with you, and some serious case of static electricity. You’d tried to gently press your hair down and when you saw a literal spark in it, you decided to just leave it alone.
Your step-sister had been apologizing since.
“It’s alright. I survived.” And you wanted to forget about it.
You could see Chrissy glancing nervously at you from the corner of your eye as she drove you to the party location.
“So…how are you liking Hawkins Community, so far?” She asked, thankfully changing the subject.
“It’s fine. The campus looks relatively the same as the community college I toured in my old town. Classes are decent.” Pitiful. The classes were so boring and straight out of the book, but it cost you a fraction of a fraction of what you’d have to pay to attend a university.
Chrissy lips turned up in a mischievous smile and you internally groaned, fully expecting her next question.
“See any cute boys?” And then, as an afterthought, “Or…girls?” Then she took her eyes off the road again, squinting at you as if she was trying to assess something, “Or…..anyone?”
You betrayed yourself, eyes darting to the window before they were back on her and she perked up in the driver’s seat.
“Okay, spill.”
Your heart started thumping wildly in your chest as one particular guy came to mind, but you hadn’t thought about him too much. Hadn’t allowed yourself to entertain the idea of a romance with him. That’s how people got their hopes up and letdown.
“Sissy! Sissy, come on. You have to tell me. I’m your only friend!”
This time, you could tell she was joking, even though she did have merit. You bit your lip as she ribbed you a bit more, the corners of your lips tugging up into a smile.
“Okay, okay!” Your hands flew to cover your face, embarrassed, shy and a little giddy all at once to actually be admitting you had a crush.
“Steve Harrington.”
“STEVE HARRINGTON?” She repeated, incredulous and you shushed her even though it was only you two in the car.
“Sissy, that’s so unexpected! I haven’t really seen him since high school but I didn’t think he’d be your type.” Chrissy admitted with a shrug of her shoulders.
“He works in the library.” You sighed out, recalling your brief interactions with him when checking out a couple of books. He’d been kind, made a couple of humorous comments about the titles, and always tried to meet your avoidant gaze, which meant he was being nice to you. Coaxing you out of your shell. You actually didn't have much trouble interacting with people, you were more abrasive than you ever were shy, Steve was just a little too easy on the eyes. Made you forget how to talk, and on occasion, walk. It was embarrassing, “Always makes those cute displays with recommendations.”
“Good for him,” She commented, sounding impressed. “I didn’t really know he was intellectual. Wasn’t, the last I heard. Had a big reputation in high school, seemed kind of mean and everyone called him King Steve.”
You frowned, feeling the need to protect him, “Didn’t they call you the Queen of Hawkins High?”
“Yeah, but only to make me seem pretentious.”
You raised your eyebrows, glancing away. Chrissy was kind, but sometimes, she could be pretentious.
“And anyways, I’m not a student at Hawkins High anymore, so they can’t call me that. Maybe Steve really did change. Come to think of it, I haven’t heard much about him since he struck out with a series of girls. Maybe he took a good look at himself and decided a change was needed.” You could feel her eyes on you again.
“Does he flirt with you?”
“No.”
“See him flirt with any girls?”
“Nope.”
“Does he still make his hair all big and poofy?”
“Looks more voluminous than poofy.”
Chrissy hummed, “An improvement. Is he all beret wearing and drinking coffee now?”
You tried to recall ever seeing him in a hat, let alone a beret, “No, I don’t think so. If anything, he’s introspective.”
“He’s on the spectrum?”
Your smile waned when you realized she was asking a legitimate question, “Oh. No. That’s—that’s not what that means. I just meant he’s thinking about what he does; how he acts, how he behaves.”
It got quiet for a few moments.
”Well,” Chrissy broke the silence once more, “He might be there tonight. I’m not sure if they’re still friends, but Tommy Hagan is hosting tonight, and once upon a time, they were inseparable.”
You made a sound of acknowledgment, upper lip twitching in disgust. You knew Tommy, saw him around campus. He was a big jerk, you’d witnessed him throw some guy’s backpack in the trash and pour his drink on it. You wish you’d known it was his party you were going to in advance. Tommy was a nasty piece of work, so his friend group was the same. Out of all of them, though, Carol got on your nerves the most.
She didn’t pay you a whole lot of attention, but when you were walking in with Chrissy—and this is Chrissy, so she acknowledged everyone—and she said hi, Carol would just look you up and down before pursing her big mouth like she’d sucked on something sour. One day, you’d like to give her your fist to suck on.
”Patrick McKinney is bringing three kegs and I heard Reefer Rick is bringing his whole inventory.”
“Reefer Rick?”
“Yeah, he’s the local drug dealer now. I mean, he’s always been but he used to have somebody sell for him while he supplied, but he died.”
Your eyes widened while your pupils dilated, mind conjuring up some image of a poor dude being murdered for drugs and then the supplier just taking over, not fearful at all of meeting the same fate, “He died?”
Chrissy nodded her head, looking thoughtful, “Yeah, Eddie Munson.”
Munson.
You sat up in your seat, fully alert and invested in the conversation now, “Eddie Munson? Is he buried under the willow tree in the cemetery?”
You stared at Chrissy, willing her to think faster as she squinted and pursed her lips, “I think Tina mentioned something about someone peeing on a tree over there, so I think so.”
Your mouth dropped open, expression utterly horrified that someone could do that, “That’s beastly, what the fuck?”
“I know,” Chrissy sighed with a shake of her head. “I didn't know him all that much, bought some weed off of him a couple of times and he seemed a little scary—appearance and mannerism wise—but he seemed nice when you had to interact with him. He didn’t deserve that.”
“How did he die?” You asked, voice small and heart shrinking. You didn’t like where this was going. Didn’t like it one bit.
“Well, the official determination, if I remember right, was like a drug deal gone bad or something, but no one really believes it. He was known to have weed on him, kept the harder stuff somewhere else. Everyone knows he was murdered. They did a number on him, it was all everyone could talk about because Sydney Porter couldn’t even get her dad—he worked at the station—to show her pictures. He told her they messed Eddie up bad. People here really didn’t like him. No one knows who did it though.”
You sunk back into your seat, mind troubled and stomach turning. This whole time, you'd been tending to and caring for the grave of a murdered guy, taken from this world simply because people didn’t like him. He must have been so lonely. So scared. And they killed him.
Chrissy was wrong. People in this town knew who killed him, because one of them, or some of them, had to have been his murderers.
Your fingers curled into tight fists, painted nails digging into the flesh of your palms. Chrissy noticed the change in your demeanor.
“Oh, sissy. You’re such an empath. Don’t be so sad, I know it’s a horrible story, but he’s resting now. In peace.”
“No, he’s not. They fucked up his tombstone. He can’t even be dead in peace.” You huffed, furious on his behalf.
“How do you know?” Chrissy asked, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow.
“I go there a lot, it’s nice. Quiet. A little creepy, but that adds to its charm, makes it relatively peaceful. I’ve been visiting all the graves, but I was drawn to him the most. Etched his tombstone. He’s my favorite.”
Despite the horrors you’d learned, the thought of Mun—Eddie, still brought a wistful smile to your lips. Maybe your presence was enough to settle him, bring him a little bit of peace this town and the people in it refused to give him.
“H-He’s your favorite…?”
“Yeah. I feel this….connection with him. From the very first time I visited. Now, I leave him gifts, flowers, pretty stones, poems I wrote, a book of sonnets I stole from the library.”
“You….should talk to your doctor about this, Sissy. That’s really weird. That’s really weird, sissy.”
You fought to not roll your eyes. As much as you cared about Chrissy, and knew she cared about you, she didn’t understand you.
“Well, since people ruined his grave, I thought it might be nice to clean it up and make sure he’s not forgotten.” You snapped, “It’s not like I call him my boyfriend or anything.”
Chrissy eyed you skeptically, “Well, then that’s nice of you, I guess. Just don’t go around telling everybody about that, or you’ll be known as the Ghost Whisperer.”
“He hasn’t talked back to me yet.”
Chrissy laughed, and freed one hand off the wheel to lightly slap your arm, “See, now that’s funny. If you do tell anyone, end it with that joke. You’ll be a riot.”
You smirked, staring out the front windshield. You’d let her think it was a joke. For now.
You made a sound of displeasure as Chrissy pulled into a clear space on the grass and parked. She jumped out to dance over to her friends, some wine coolers cradled in a plastic bag she clutched.
You allowed yourself a full minute to stew in your misery before getting out of the car and following after her. As you neared her group, you quickly realized that was a bad idea.
“Oh my GOD! Vickie, you fixed your teeth! They look so good. I wasn’t gonna say anything because I thought you were happy with the overcrowding, but now that you fixed it, I can’t look away!”
Yeesh. You beelined away from them and wandered around the crowded front lawn, dodging rowdy friend groups and couples until you spotted a cooler.
Maybe a drink would calm you down.
You squatted down and popped the lid, digging around the ice but all you spotted were Pepsi and Squirt cans.
“The liquid fun is inside.” A guy’s voice came from behind you and you rolled your eyes. You were so not in the mood to be hit on right now.
“What?” You asked, tone bored, but you didn’t want to make him seem helpful so you grabbed a Squirt.
“Alcohol. He keeps it inside.”
You slammed the cooler shut and popped the tab of the can, rising to your feet, “Yeah, I figured that mu—shhhh.”
Oh, shit.
Steve Harrington was standing before you, eyes alight with mirth as he smirked down at you.
You swallowed hard, hoping to god your tongue hadn’t gone down with the movement. See? Here you went getting all stupid around him.
”Funny seeing you here.”
You laughed nervously, “Yeah. I—uh, mhm.” You forced yourself to take a drink of your soda to keep from making an even bigger fool of yourself.
“Sorry if it’s weird of me to just walk up to you. I was chilling on the side of the house and thought I saw you, but I’m a little nearsighted and I didn’t bring my glasses.”
You pulled the can away from your mouth as your brain registered the lack of metal frames on the bridge of his nose. He looked handsome with and without them, that wasn’t fair. It was still throwing you off.
“It’s—It’s okay. Uhm, no harm done.” You shrugged your shoulders, hoping it looked cool and not as stiff as you felt. You even added in a smile with some teeth for a little razzle dazzle.
“I actually came over here to tell you your books are significantly overdue.” Steve deadpanned, tongue playing with his canine tooth as he scrutinized you and you shrunk, smile falling from your face. You had got to get better at following up on your due dates.
“Oh.”
He scoffed, face breaking out into a grin as his shoulders shook with his chuckles “I’m kidding.”
OH, THANK FUCK.
“Oh,” And then, because every god probably hates you, you started snorting with laughter. You cut that shit quick, clearing your throat as you took another sip of your beverage.
“So,” Steve took a step closer to you, “Are you enjoying─”
“Hey!” Carol stepped right up to Steve, practically leaning all over him as her ruby red lips spread into a seductive smile, eyes lidded and no doubt a few drinks in with a drink for Steve in her hand. For the billionth time that night, you rolled your eyes, trying not to gag at how desperate she was. You knew Tommy had recently dumped her, the entire town knew and now she was clearly trying to get into Steve’s pants, “I found the keg.”
She could eat shit, his pants were yours.
“Oh, Thank you.” Came Steve’s bleak reply and part of you thought he might have actually wanted to talk to just you. Now, you were really annoyed she’d interrupted.
“Hey, Carol.”
Carol looked surprised that you’d even dare speak to her, raising her eyebrows, “Hey. Hi— sorry, how do we know each other?”
“You’re my lab partner.” You were unimpressed, you expected her to be a better mean girl.
“Yay me.” The smile she directed at you was anything but friendly, reminding you of the one Laura would make after you did something in public she didn’t like, but she couldn’t yell at you until you were home. Carol swirled the liquid in her cup around, head tilting as she offered it to you, “You wanna sip, partner?”
“Carol.” Steve warned and she tutted, flicking her wrist.
“You’re right, I don’t know why I assumed she partied.”
“I’ll take a beer,” You could handle alcohol, had cleared your mother’s wine cabinet after she was murdered, so this would be no big deal.
Carol looked annoyed but handed you the cup, and to make sure you wouldn’t gag and vomit, you threw it back, throat opening as you swallowed the liquid as fast as you could to refuse it as much time on your taste buds as possible.
When you lowered the cup, you realized you’d made a mistake and glanced into it at the small amount left behind, watching as the ground in your peripheral view began to shift.
Steve seemed to realize something was wrong, quickly taking your cup and ingesting what was left. His suspicions were confirmed and he spat it out on the grass before scowling at Carol, “PCP? Really, Carol? What the fuck is wrong with you? Why the hell would you give that to her!?”
“Oopsie.”
But it was too late for you. You dropped the soda can in your other hand and lifted your hands to your face, watching the lines around your palms and fingers begin to move, swirling around and you backed away from them, watching as everything around you began to come undone.
“Hey!” You heard a voice next to you and someone started rubbing your back, you hadn’t even realized you were crouching. You craned your head up to see Chrissy and you frowned. Her voice was so different, distorted. She sounded more like your dad than Chrissy.
Her face was both far away and right in front of you, you reached a hand out to test the theory, see if it really was close. Chrissy caught your wrist, frowning at the state you were falling into.
Chrissy started asking you questions, about what you’d taken, what you drank but her voice was too loud for you, and the purple behind her head was distracting. Still, you nodded your head.
At your confirmation, Chrissy’s frown intensified and she helped you to the ground before darting over to chew Steve and Carol out.
You couldn’t stay on the grass for long, the blades of it stabbing you and sending pain shooting up your palms and into your bones so you crawled some distance away before you managed to push yourself up and stumble towards the house. It was hard.
Everything was moving. You heard a loud sound and glanced around wildly until you were staring up at the sky, mouth dropping open to see green clouds and lightning.
You had to get away, the need to escape, be safe was urgent but it felt like the closer you got to the front door, the farther away it went. Your breathing was heavy and panicked as you kept stumbling forward, arm outstretched and finally you reached it.
You yanked it open and nearly fell inside, tripping over your feet until you hit the back of the couch and used it to sink to the floor.
You heard your name being called and lifted your head, eyes crazed as you tried to find the source. Fred Benson approached you, the skinny boy squatting to be eye level with you.
“You okay?” He asked and you reached forward, grasping his face in your hand and squeezing to make sure he was a real person.
“You.” Was all you said, booping his nose but still suspicious of him. Was he real?
“Uh, yeah. It’s me. It’s Fred, we sit next to each other in ASL class.”
He looked like Fred. You still didn’t believe he was human, squinting as your hands grasped at the back of the couch.
“You don’t look so good,” Fred pushed the frame of his glasses up his nose, brows furrowed in concern, “Let's find somewhere for you to sit down for a minute. Or maybe a while. Man, what did you drink?”
He stood up, offering you a hand and you took it but didn’t pull yourself up. Fred heaved with all his might and managed to get you on your feet but he realized just walking you wouldn’t be enough, and so did you because you draped yourself over him, one arm over his scrawny shoulders.
Fred cursed under his breath but held your weight, leading you out of the populated living room and you watched a couple furiously make out on the couch cushions as you passed.
“I hate parties. I don’t know why I came—well, actually I do. I never got invited to these in high school, so I guess I’m living out my fantasy now. In all honesty, I’d much rather be watching Weird Science. So far tonight, I’ve seen three cheerleaders throw up and a baby being conceived.”
“Uh huh,” Was all you could get out, watching people swirl past you like shooting stars.
“Would you count that as escaping the teen pregnancy statistic? I know they’re out of high school, but we’re all still pretty young.” He commented as he led you up the stairs. You tripped several times and almost sent him flying down them but the two of you managed to make it.
Fred was heaving by the time you'd shouldered him into the hallway wall, his face and hands clammy.
”Good god, how did I pass P.E.?” The two of you paused there until he regained his breath while you plastered yourself against the wall, cheek pressed to it and hands stroking over the wallpaper. Eventually, Fred peeled you off of it and kept moving until he could find a place to put you.
“You like movies right? Got any favorite directors? Or favorite films?”
“Wall.”
“Huh? Oh, you’re just admiring the wallpaper.”
“Great Wall of China.”
Fred positioned you against the wall, looking a little annoyed. You didn’t care, could only focus on the framed photo of the Great Wall of China directly across from you.
“Oh.” Was all he said when he spotted it. “Stay right here.”
Then he disappeared and you watched as the painting came to life, and the stones of the wall began moving, rippling. You didn’t even know stones could move like that but now it made so much more sense.
Fred appeared again, tugging you along into an empty room. You spotted a trash can and nearly threw Fred into the bedroom wall as you dove for it, retching everything out of your stomach. You could hear Fred gagging, but he was decent enough to make sure your hair stayed out of your way. When you were done, he helped sit you up on the bed, and nearly collapsed next to you.
”We did it,” he cheered with no real gusto. And you sat there, still feeling the earth orbiting. It was the most odd sensation, you could feel a spot on your brain pulsing, like a migraine but it felt so euphoric to close your eyes.
“Here,” They snapped right back open and you glanced to your side to see Fred offering you a handkerchief. Of course Fred Benson carried around a handkerchief. How amusing.
“Thank you,” You gave the three versions of him you could see right then a smile and used the handkerchief to wipe your mouth, eyelids fluttering close just as the sound of thunder filled the room, and a flashing of lightning accompanied it.
“Huh, a rainless thunderstorm, looks like the angels are bowling.” You heard him muse next to you.
And it brought another smile to your face, “My mom used to say that.”
At the mention of her, your brain conjured up all the happy feelings and memories of her, huddled on your couch, in your old home watching black and white horror films. They didn’t scare her, so she could tolerate them. You missed her. She made you feel so light, so seen, so—no.
Something was wrong. Something felt very, very wrong.
Your smile faded and you felt your belly sink as you opened your eyes.
“Does that feel good?”
You didn’t want to, but you looked down to see Fred’s hand on your breast. Your breathing picked up and Fred let go of you to grab your wrist and force you to touch his crotch, “Well don’t just sit there, help me out. Finish what you started.”
Anger filled you and you yanked your hand away, “No.”
Fred opened his mouth as you got up, rushing away from him and stumbling back out the way you remembered while he yelled at you.
You had to get out, had to get away. Had to be safe, feel safe. You banged against walls as you went, desperate to get out of the house, away from Fred, from everyone, and to safety. That was your only concern as the drug really hit you.
All you could remember was seeing colors, hearing and feeling the wind against your sweaty skin, leaves blowing with it and gusting around you.
You had no idea how you escaped the mad house, how long you’d even been walking or how you actually got there, but you found yourself in front of the cemetery, a flash of lightning illuminating the gate.
To anyone else, a cemetery would have been the worst place to find themselves on a night like this, but you’d already been to hell so you trudged forward, feet taking you to him. Even in your drugged state, you were able to find your way to Eddie. Always would be.
Your knees dug into the grass as you collapsed in front of his tombstone, fingers reaching forward to trace over MUN and 1986 before your body curled around the large stone, hugging yourself to it. Electric blue tears slipped down your cheeks, staining them with your mascara.
“I wish I was with you.” You whispered, hating everything, hating this town, hating the people, hating Fred Benson, hating Carol, hating Laura Cunningham, hating how your mom wasn’t alive, hating how the one person you’d unknowingly sought for comfort was someone you’d never met before who was six feet under the ground. And you hated how you weren’t down there.
You laid there, hugging his tombstone for hours under the thunder and lightning as the PCP slowly left your system.
When you were able to stand up on your own, you gave the tombstone another kiss, rested your forehead against it and quietly thanked him for helping you find your way home before you left, following the path you’d made during all of your visits.
The house was quiet when you got in, and Chrissy’s car hadn’t been parked in the driveway when you’d walked up so you figured she was still at the party. Sluggishly, you made your way up the stairs, falling into your shared bathroom. Your hand searched the wall, struggling to find the switch. Once your fingertips made contact with it, you flipped it and squinted as the room was flooded with the warm light. It was still too much for your eyes but you kept it on and walked towards the mirror
The girl looking back at you was not the same one you’d last seen in it. This girl had blue smudged all around her eyes, faint trails of it over her cheeks and a rats nest for hair. Her eyes burned, not from the light, but from a fury within.
She was stuck in a life she didn’t want to live and couldn’t do anything about. As a large strike of lightning flashed from the window positioned at the back of the bathroom, towards the back of the house, you decided to put her out of her misery, picking up a blow dryer and smashing it against your reflection with a yell.
You stood there, chest heaving as you stared at the broken reflection. Then you tossed the blow dryer onto the counter, and went to bed.
Your dreams were much more pleasant than your reality, eyelids fluttering open to the ceiling of your old bedroom. A glance to your side confirmed your mother’s photo was at your bedside, next to your alarm clock on your old bedside table.
“Well?” Her photo asked, shooting you that gorgeous smile of hers, “What are you waiting for? Go get him.”
Your confusion was momentary, your mother raised her chin in a direction and you knew what would happen, you were giddy for it as you looked down to see yourself wrapped in the most beautiful wedding gown you’d ever seen.
You rose from the bed into a sitting position, picking up the bouquet on the pillow next to you. Your dresser mirror was directly across from your bed and you took a moment to admire the beautiful girl staring back at you. Where you last remember seeing trails of tears were diamonds, glittering against your skin. Her eyes sparkled with a joy you’d never known. You bid her one last smile as you turned your head to the figure sitting on the edge of your bed, dark curls cascading down his neck, past broad shoulders with his back to you.
His right arm was out, palm up.
He was waiting for you.
You shifted until you were on the edge of your bed next to him, staring straight forward just as he was.
Without looking, you knew exactly where his hand was, and you placed your left one over it, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. Slowly, the two of you leaned towards each other, until your head was on his shoulder and his cheek was pressed against the top of your head, his fingers curling around your hand to ground you. You sighed, all the tension and weight of the world leaving you.
“Sissy. . .”
“Sissy…”
“SISSY!”
You groaned as Chrissy shook you awake, eyes prying through all the mascara that had crusted over your eyes. It took a couple of blinks until you regained your clear vision, gaze locking on Chrissy leaning over you. Her face was clean of any makeup, skin glowing and hair wrapped up in rollers.
She’d gotten home later than you and had still been able to look perfect.
What the hell?
“You better get up, sissy. My mom’s losing it over the bathroom mirror.”
You were confused for a second until you remembered smashing it with a blow dryer last night—or this morning. Well, it definitely would have broken at the sight of you now, anyways.
You frowned but made no move to get up so Chrissy tugged your blanket off of you, giggling when the both of you realized you had your hand in your underwear. Hastily, you yanked it out, and threw the blankets back over yourself.
“It’s okay, Sissy. Everyone does it. It’s natural.”
“Oh my god…”
“So, what happened last night to bring this on?” She wiggled her eyebrows and you stared at her for a second. Part of you wanted to yell at her, berate her for letting you stumble around while high on a drug you’d never taken before, the other half knew in Chrissy’s World, it was all rainbows and sunshine—at least, it had been since she’d forced her mother to respect her boundaries. Chrissy didn’t expect the worst in anyone, didn't expect anyone to take advantage of you and certainly didn't expect you to wind up walking to the cemetery and then home on a bad trip. No, in Chrissy’s World, you’d probably spent the night flirting with someone, probably Steve, maybe fooled around in his car before he drove you home.
You didn’t see it necessary to shatter her world so you groaned instead, the full force of your migraine hitting you now that you were out of sleep’s clutches, and covered your hands with your face.
“Ooh, your knees…”
You glanced down to see what she was staring at and sure enough, your knees were scratched up from kneeling at Eddie’s grave, but in Chrissy’s World…
“I fell.” Was the only excuse you could come up with and Chrissy smirked.
“Me, too.” Her eyelid dropped in a wink just as Laura yelled upstairs for you, so, begrudgingly, you wrapped yourself in your robe and headed downstairs to receive your punishment.
Just as you suspected, Laura had attacked you with allegations—that were true for once, you had smashed the bathroom mirror—and your dad looked like he could care less.
“You know,” She stated, fixing you with those unnaturally blue eyes of hers, “Your dad wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. See the good in you, but I knew. I’m an Intuitive Person, you know. An IP. They’ve got seminars for people like me.”
Your mind flashed to How to Handle a Narcissist.
“Laura…” Your dad warned and Laura inhaled sharply, displeased that your dad was sticking up for you. For once.
“Did you know there was a tornado last night? It hailed. Wind blew the fence over. The yard is covered in debris, and now I have to focus on repairing the bathroom, too. I don’t think that’s fair.” She huffed and Chrissy spoke up from her place on the couch.
“It was a tornado watch, mom. Not a real tornado.”
“Actually, Chris, the weather was downright crazy last night. I mean, it was really something, I saw green lightning. Big balls of it in the sky.”
You and Chrissy shared secret smiles at hearing your dad talk about big balls.
“Love muffin, could you swap out being a weatherman for being a father, right now?” Laura gritted out through her chemically whitened teeth.
“It’s a Meteorologist,” You mumbled and her head snapped over to glare at you before she was speaking to your father again.
“Honey, your daughter is a vandal. She’s got a taste for vandalism, and she is deliberately vandalizing and destroying property. First, it was my collection of Precious Moments figurines─”
“That was an accident, you didn’t wrap them in bubble wrap and I dropped the box when I tripped over the front steps.”
“Mother,” Chrissy chided, hands crossing over her robe. “Be. Nice.”
“I am being nice,” Laura hissed, glare never leaving you, “But I refuse to coddle her. She’s headed straight to the nut house with this behavior.”
You frowned, wiping away some of the dried mascara under your eye, “Can you say that if you’re a Psych Nurse?”
Laura had the decency to look embarrassed before whacking your father’s arm. He sighed, putting his newspaper down, “Sweetheart─”
You clocked the twitch in Laura’s eyelid at the affectionate name your father used to refer to you.
“─You’re gonna clean your bathroom, alright? Sweep up all that glass.”
”And?” Laura pushed, still staring at you.
“And…..um. Pay for the mirror, I guess.” Laura turned her nose up, hurmphing.
“That’s fine, can I get ready for work now?”
Your dad nodded and Laura looked like she wanted to protest but you turned your back to her and made your way upstairs, hesitating at the top when your fathered turned the volume of the TV back on and you heard the news reporter reporting from the cemetery, talking about a grave, under a tree, that had been struck by lightning.
You wondered if it had been Eddie’s. There’s no way you’d be able to check today, you’d get home from work too late, so you’d have to check tomorrow.
You tried to stay busy during your shift at the local tailor’s. You didn’t really have a passion for it, but you were relatively good with a needle and thread. With the magnifier headlamp, you were practically unstoppable, altering coats, dresses, blouses, shirts, all with minimal finger injuries—though luminol on some of these clothing items would no doubt reveal traces of your blood.
But hey—you now knew what it meant to work so hard you put your blood into something and you always had band-aids on you, in case anyone needed one.
You were so invested in your work, you hadn’t heard the bell above the door chime when it was pushed open, and didn’t notice Steve leaning against the counter, watching you work until he cleared his throat.
You jumped, head swinging around to see your crush smiling at you and you raised the magnifying glass portion of the head lamp off your face, feeling embarrassed that he’d seen you with the headgear on in the first place.
“Hey! I didn’t know you worked here.”
You let out some nervous laughter, mind racing for ways to make this seem cool but you came up short. “Yeah, I—employed.”
“I can see that,” He chuckled, amused by your lack of verbal sparring.
You didn’t know what to say after that so you stared, fingers twisting and pulling the thread you’d been working with, desperate for him to say something or get out.
“Oh! Uh, I heard you guys also get rid of stains? I’ve got this one on my pan─”
“THAT WE DO!”
You sighed, eyes slipping shut as your moron of a boss came bursting out of the office.
“What can we do for you, Harrington?” Murray asked, leaning against the counter, causing Steve to lean back, smile now less than thrilled.
“Murray…I forgot you worked here.” Steve said it in a voice that made you think he would have avoided the shop had he known who it was that was currently in charge of running it.
“Yup, got me this sweet little gig. And no radios.” He gestured around to the shop, void of any technology save for the cash register—and he made sure it was never him operating it, “Would like to see the government try to control me now.”
“Right, I just came here to drop off my pants, spilled something on—well, it doesn’t really matter, I just spilled something on them.” Steve placed the folded pair of pants on the counter and Murray immediately unfolded them, searching through the fabric until he found the stain by his crotch. To both your horror and Steve’s, he lifted the strained fabric to his nose, sniffing deep.
“Mm. White wine?”
It took Steve a moment to find his voice and close his jaw, “Crush. The soda.”
“Same thing. We’ll get this right out, my man.”
You and Steve shared one more look of disbelief before he slowly backed away, the bell above the door sounding as he left.
“He’s a nice guy,” Murray commented and you shrugged your shoulders, wanting this conversation to be over, “I’m surprised you know him, little loser.”
You shot him a glare.
“Oh, c’mon, lets not pretend you’ve got an active social life—if I call you in for a shift, you’re available. Nothing wrong with being a loser. I was one throughout high school and look at me now. Who got the last laugh?”
You were positive the look of pain on your face should have told Murray that anyone other than him got the last laugh. He was a forty something year old, afraid of technology, convinced the government was watching him, who tried to befriend teenagers.
You’d have to kill yourself if you were anything like him.
When he disappeared back into the office, because of course you’d have to get rid of that stain for Steve, you snatched the pair of pants off the counter. Glancing around to make sure there weren’t any eyes on you, you pressed them to the side of your face, imagining yourself hugging Steve instead of the pants. They smelled like him. It was bliss.
Then your eyes snapped open.
Oh, god. You were a loser.
After your shift, you’d gone straight home. Normally, you’d stop to grab a bite or something, you still had to pay for the mirror you broke so fast food was off the table for a couple of weeks, but on your dining room table when you walked into the house.
A pizza box. Your stomach growled as you imagined the slice of cheese waiting for you.
“Is there any left?” You asked, already making a beeline for it.
“Should be a slice left,” Your dad mused and as you tossed the top of it open, all you wanted to do was maybe beat him with it.
There, on the parchment liner of the pizza box, was the skinniest and tiniest slice of pizza to ever be cut. Not even the width of two of your fingers.
“Want me to order another one, sweetheart?” Your dad asked and Laura immediately inserted herself into the conversation.
“She can eat it, love muffin. Besides, we’ve got vegetables in the fridge if she’s still not full.”
“I said we should have ordered two, but my mom had a coupon she wanted to use.” Chrissy didn’t sound impressed.
“Yes, we got a free soda!”
Chrissy ignored her mom, “Sissy, we’re going to the movies! You could get something there, they sell pizza and nachos, right?”
You knew she was trying to find a solution for you, but your bullshit meter for the day had already been capped. You didn’t want movie theater pizza or concessions, you wanted a reasonable slice of this pizza, not some scrap your step-mother had saved you. It was obvious she was implying that she, your dad and Chrissy were the perfect sized family and you were simply an afterthought. Unwelcome.
“Yeah, I’m passing on the movie.”
Before you could stomp upstairs, Chrissy caught your hand.
“Sissy, please? We’ve got to bond as a family, it’s crucial. If it takes two, how can I do it as one?” She pulled you into her side.
“Really, Chrissy, I’m super tired.”
“You’re tired?” Laura asked, incredulous. Here we go again.
“All you do is work with a sewing machine for hours like some old spinster, I can hardly imagine that being tiring, but my Chrissy just got back from a five hour long cheer practice. They were throwing her around like raggedy ann and she stuck every landing.”
“Mom, stop.” Chrissy blushed, but you could see how proud she was of herself, “I’m sure Sissy pokes herself with those needles all the time, and it hurts, I’ve been prodded myself during all of my custom fittings.”
“I have finger calluses so I don’t even bleed anymore,” You begrudgingly admitted, “I can take it.”
“I bet you can.”
After they’d left for the movies, you’d gone upstairs, showered, put on your comfiest pajamas and fuzziest slippers, you grabbed a bowl of chips and set yourself up in front of the TV to watch Dawn of the Dead. You had to give props to all these zombie actors, you couldn’t imagine having to act out being one of the walking undead, imagined it felt pretty stupid but the paycheck and experience must have been cool.
You popped another chip into your mouth just as someone knocked on the front door. As you placed the bowl of chips on the table to get up, the knocking got louder, more aggressive and you hesitated, fear beginning to swell up inside of you.
Maybe if you ignored it, they’d go away.
You turned your attention back to the tv, picking up the remote to lower the volume and hopefully hide your presence in the house.
Then, much to your horror, you heard the distinct sound of a pained, gurgling groan. It sounded very similar to the ones you’d heard the zombies making on your tv, but this one was louder.
And it was coming from outside your front door.
You crouched, duckwalking to the foyer where one of the house phones was placed. You’d just picked it up from the receiver when a shadow from the living room window caught your eye. You barely had time to turn your head when something came crashing through it, breaking the glass and yanking the curtains from the rod.
Shocked, the phone slipped from your hands, banging against the hardwood floor of the foyer and you let out a scream at the same time as the person on your TV, running away from the figure invading your home.
You made it to the dinning room. Literally scrambling across the table to put an obstacle between you and the stranger—no, creature. Tall, caked in mud, leaves and stems, it resembled the Swamp Thing. It grunted, groans low and reverberating off the walls.
“Uuuhhhnng…”
This couldn’t be happening to you, you couldn’t die like this!!!! It was supposed to be by your hand or nothing!
”STAY AWAY FROM ME!” You shrieked, picking up the decorative plates from the table to throw at the creature. You nailed it a couple of times, watching it stumble as the fine china shattered against it. When you ran out of plates, you bolted from the dinning room, screaming as you scrambled up the stairs, and lost one of your slippers in the process but to hell with it! You had to get out of there. Hopefully, one of your neighbors heard your shrieks of terror and called the police.
You peaked over the railing at the top of the stairs, to see the creature analyzing your slipper. While it was distracted, you locked yourself in your room and made your way to your bedroom window, pulling it open.
“Okay, okay. I can do this, no big deal. Stunt actors do it all the time.” You climbed outside of your window, body nearly convulsing as you almost slipped down the roof, “Nonononono.”
You tried to grip onto a couple of shingles but they gave away, slipping right off the house to shatter against the concrete walkway and you realized Laura had no fucking idea what she was doing when it came to house repairs, the dumb bitch had just laid the shingles out without securing them.
“OH MY GOD-I’M GONNA DIE! HELP!”
Your body slipped further down the roofing, until you were forced to grab the gutter, gagging when your fingers squelched against whatever was in it. You dangled a good six feet off the ground, and while it wasn’t exactly a ten story fall, with your luck, you’d land on your head and break your neck.
Whimpering, you tried to pull yourself back up the roof, but it was no use. You had nothing stable to grab onto as you yanked yet another shingle clean off. You glared at it and muttered a goddammit before tossing it somewhere behind you as you went back to hanging on for dear life.
“Oh, no.” You mumbled, terrified as your fingertips began to lose their grip, wet with the mystery sludge from the gutter. “No, NO!”
You lost your grip, plummeting down but you didn’t meet the concrete. No, the Creature broke your fall and you were now face to face with it. The pressure of you landing on it, made it spit up into your face, green sludge, and you gasped before breaking out into screams again.
Pushing yourself up and off of it as you ran around your front yard, nearly blind. You were not opening your eyes to let that bacteria infested swamp slime, water, whatever the hell it was, into your eyeballs.
You could hear the Creature stomping around behind you as you bobbed and weaved, could feel his presence and you could not believe you were actually gonna die fighting off a swamp monster in your front yard while blinded—in clear and plain view for your neighbors to see, by the way, and unbeknownst to you, an elderly couple was watching you, not even a little concerned about your well being or the creature chasing you around.
“Stop it!”
“Leave me alone!”
“Go away, I’m just a girl!”
The timed sprinklers went off and you were soon assaulted with them as well. With just about all your senses done for, and the sprinklers washing the guck away from your face, you made a run for the house, slamming your back against the door and locking it behind you.
Your chest was heaving, wet body pumping with adrenaline as the back of your head thumped against the door. You weren’t done yet. That creature was still out there!!!
You dove for the phone on the ground, hanging by its springy cord and shouted out hopefully loud enough for it to hear, “I’m calling the police, so if you don’t want your ass riddled with bullets, I’d suggest you leave! They shoot before asking questions!”
You frantically dialed 911 but there was no ringing, instead, you could still hear buttons being pressed on the other line.
Bleak, and accepting your fate, you put the phone back on the receiver, and turned towards the living room, where the other phone was located.
On the chair, next to where the table the phone normaly rested on, was The Creature.
You grabbed one of the lamps, ready to use it as a weapon but it didn’t attack you, just turned the phone receiver this way and that, as if admiring it.
Despite your fear, you took a reluctant step forward, casting the creature in the glow of the lamp you clutched and for like the billionth time that night, you gasped.
The sprinklers had washed some of the filth off of it, too. Before, its head had been caked in a mud helmet, but now, you could actually see it’s head. It had long, disgustingly dirty curls, and wore a leather jacket, jeans and tennis shoes, all covered in grime.
When it craned its head up to look at you, you readied the lamp, poised to throw it at it—him. It was a guy. Big brown eyes, stared up at you and he made no move to attack.
Slowly, you lowered the lamp, and crouched down a few feet away.
His attention returned to the phone—shoe shaped—in his hands and shakily, with stiff limbs, he put it back on the receiver.
“It’s…It’s cool looking, right? The-The shoe phone.”
He glanced over at you and then the phone again as you mumbled out an explanation,
“Our neighbor in our old town cheated on his wife and she threw all his stuff out the window at him and my dad snatched the phone.”
“Merrrruhhhhh.” He moaned out, picking up your slipper and offering it to you. When you just stared, he dropped it and you moved the lamp to the side, crossing your legs.
“I’ve never seen a zombie before.” You marveled, then squinted, “You are a zombie, right? An undead?”
It took him an entire minute to choppily raise his shoulders, you realized he was shrugging. Or trying to. Every movement he made was choppy. Reminded you of how stop motion was made, except his scenes weren’t being played fast enough to have fluid movements.
He tried to get up and promptly slipped, accidentally elbowing the mini sound system at his side. It turned on, Sinead O’Connor’s Drink Before the War playing. You’d been the last to use it.
You watched as his head tilted in interest as Sinead began to croon out lyrics.
“Do you like music? This is Sinead O’Connor. She makes music that heals souls.”
He raised his wrist to his chest and you inhaled sharply as you realized he was missing the hand on it.
“Uhm, no—I don’t think she healed your soul. I meant like, figuratively. Her music makes people feel.” You placed your hands on your own chest, trying to convey your meaning, “She’s one of my favorites.”
A surprisingly comforting silence fell over the two of you—though he sometimes made his quiet dead guy gross sounds—as you stared at him, taking in the green-gray tint of his skin beneath the dirt all over him, cheeks sunken in. You had a feeling if you touched his skin, it’d be hard, maybe waxy and it was a bit unnerving how human his eyes were, but duh! Of course they were, he was a human. Just. A dead one. At least he wasn’t a skeleton.
Man, Hollywood wasn’t too far off with their interpretation.
“C’mon,” You stood up, eyes taking in the state of your home and all the dirt the two of you had dragged in, “I gotta hide you, new dead friend.”
#Eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#Freak like me#lisa frankenstein#lisa frankenstein inspo#Zombie!eddie munson#dead!eddie munson#undead!eddie munson#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson au#Eddie munson angst#eddie munson fanfic#Eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson#Steve harrington x reader#eddie munson x black!reader
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“Papa has to put five dollars in the jar,” Hazel proudly announces the very moment she and Steve arrive home from her evening dance class.
“Jesus Christ,” Eddie groans his place at the stove where he’s cooking dinner, “What’d you do this time?”
The Jar is actually a repurposed animal crackers container – the big plastic kind shaped like a bear. Most people think it’s a swear jar which, honestly, Steve and Eddie are fine with because that’s probably better than the reality of the situation – that they (it’s mostly Steve, actually) need a system to keep in check the petty fights they get into with practically everyone they know.
“I just–” Steve starts, and then he rolls his eyes, “I don’t get why some people have kids if they clearly don’t want to be part of their kids’ lives.”
“Little pitchers,” Eddie reminds him – as in little pitchers have big ears, as in their children hear everything they say, whether they want them to or not.
Steve ignores him.
“So her class was about to wrap up – they had, like, five minutes left – and they all came out of the room looking all excited and they said they wanted to show us their recital dance so far because they’re almost done learning it.”
“Sure,” Eddie comments.
“And this one kid is, like, rushing to put her shoes and coat on over her little tutu thing because her mom’s waiting in the car outside, and she goes to get her, and then, like, five minutes later she comes back inside in tears because her mom didn’t want to come in.”
Eddie shakes his head, equally unimpressed.
“Anyways, they do their little routine and – Ed, they were so excited, and they tripped over each other the entire time and none of them know what they’re doing and it’s so fucking cute, man. I have no idea how anyone wouldn’t want to watch that.”
“Right,” Eddie said slowly, because he knows Steve well enough to start piecing together where The Jar might come into play.
“So when it was over,” Steve continues, “I walked the kid to her mom’s car and I told her that she missed a good show and that her daughter very obviously wanted her there.”
“Steve.”
“I really don’t think I did anything wrong,” Steve defended.
“Cough it up, big boy. Jar.”
#when the jar is full they have to donate it to their HOA so they're trying really hard to not add anything to it#liv’s steddie dads verse#steddie#steddie dads#steve harrington#eddie munson#judgy-steve my beloved
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Wanting You || conrad fisher x fem!reader
masterlist
request
summary: you get a call and it happens to be your drunk boyfriend just wanting your love and attention
pairing: conrad fisher x reader
warnings: stressed conrad and mostly just fluff
wc: 800 (i think)
put some drunk conrad in to help with the storyline!! not majority edited just wanted to get this out
It was supposed to be a boy's night. To drink and talk about sports or just hang out in general. But here conrad was, looking at your pictures on his phone showing the guys around him. Even if they were at a party where there were over 100 people, you were still the first thing on his mind.
“she’s just so pretty guys,” he told steven and jeremiah who were sipping on beers
“oh we know, for how much you talk about her.” jere muttered over his drink
“man, as much as i love how you’re in love with my sister, but please spare all details.” steven rolled his eyes
“she’s just so sweet, she’s helped me with so much. like that one time she snuck me into your house because i missed her and my roommate was having sex,” he admitted
“oh god! you snuck into our house. if laurel ever hears this you’re dead meat.” steven leaned forward
“relax steve, i’ll have you know your mom likes me too much.” conrad took a sip of his beer when he should have stopped drinking for a while now “i miss her.”
“he’s so whipped.” jere laughed watching his brother be lovesick for you
“do you think she will answer if i call her?” his eyes lit up
“she’s probably sleeping.” steven looked over his shoulder to the crowd of people spotting taylor dancing with some of the volleyball girls
“just make your move already.” jeremiah pointed out
“you know belly would absolutely murder me if i touched her best friend.” steven sighed and looked away
“hey! look at me man.” conrad put a hand on his shoulder “you haven’t murdered me yet.” he smiled
“that’s because i’m building up to it.” conrad shook his head
“i’m gonna call her, i miss her.”
“dude-“ it was too late he already clicked your contact.
Meanwhile, you were on your bed watching netflix and having a self-care night. With conrad with the guys, you felt like he needed to get out of the apartment they all shared because all they did was play video games and sleep. Your phone rang on the comforter causing you to jump not expecting any calls. You turned the phone seeing conrad’s name on the screen.
“hey.” you paused your show leaning back on the pillows
“hi baby.” he slurred. this wasn’t the first time occurrence he’s called you drunk, you soon found out he was clingy and wanted your attention when drunk
“hey you, how’s the boy's night?” he sighed on the other side of the phone
“it’s good, it’s good. i wanted to call and say i miss you, like a lot.”
“you just saw me yesterday dummy.” you laughed into the phone
“i just really love you.” your heart fluttered as he said the words, you don’t usually say it because it meant a lot to the both of you with what happened to your parents
“can you do me a favor baby?” he hummed on the other side “can i talk to my brother really quick?”
“yeah! here, steven she wants to talk to you.” you heard him hand the phone over
“hey sis.”
“hey can i come get him? i think he’s had enough and i know he’s gonna want me to come get him soon enough.”
“oh yeah please,”
“thank you for taking him out tonight, i know he’s stressed with everything with adam and everything.”
“no yeah i understand, see you soon.” the phone was pulled away from him and back in the hands of your boyfriend
“hey lover.” he chuckled “i’m gonna a come get you okay?”
“yeah, thats sounds good.” you knew after a while he would start overthinking and then the stress would come back
“just stay with the guys and no more drinking, okay?”
“okay, see you soon baby.” you both hung up and you got out of bed
The drive over to the house was over 20 minutes. But you didn’t mind you wanted to see conrad. There has been a lot of stuff going on recently with his dad. you knew their relationship wasn’t the greatest and it really got to him sometimes.
You parked the car in search of your boyfriend. Steven texted you saying they were in the backyard in some chairs, and you saw the back of your boyfriend's head as he talked to the boys in front of him. You wrapped your arms over his shoulder and leaned your head down on his shoulder.
“i have a girlfriend!” his head snapped and he relaxed seeing it was you “oh. sorry.”
“that’s okay, you ready to go?” he nodded “you boys have a ride back?” you looked towards jere and steven
“yeah, taylor said she would take us.” you smiled at steven “when are you gonna ask her out?” conrad moved his arms to rub against yours that were draped over him
“chill, i just don’t wanna upset belly.”
“for fucks sake i’m dating your best friend and you didn’t beat me up.”
“told you.” conrad muttered
“this is different.” he sighed rubbing his face
“it’s not really.” conrad moved to lay his head on your arm giving you the signal it was time to go “just do something at least, con and i are gonna head out.” you pulled your hands away and the man stood from his seat “ready.” he nodded taking your hand in his “be safe tonight, call me if you need anything.”
As you drove home, conrad kept a hand on your thigh but he didn’t say anything and you knew the quietness and depression were slowly coming back from the side effects of his drinking. The whole ride was quiet up until you made it into your room closing the door facing him.
“come here con.” he walked towards you slowly and dipped his head into to crook of your neck and wrapped his arms around you “let’s sleep okay?” he nodded but didn’t let go “con?”
“hm?”
“let’s lay down handsome.” he stepped away from you and you helped him take off his shirt as he slipped out of his jeans left in his boxers and slid into bed “ill be right back, going to get you water.”
“okay.” he softly spoke into the pillow he was laying on
Walking downstairs your mom was also grabbing a midnight snack. She knew he would come over and she also knew he was going through a lot in your 2 years together.
“how is he?” she leaned against the counter as you opened the fridge to grab a water bottle
“it’s a lot, he won’t really talk to me about some of it and i understand.”
“you’re a great girlfriend for him. susannah always loved the thought of you two together.” she grabbed your hand and squeezed it “speaking of conrad.” she nodded behind you, turning around you saw your boyfriend standing at the end of the stairs
“hey, what’s wrong?” you walked towards him
“you left me for a long time.” he rubbed his eyes and you smiled
“come on you big baby, good night mom.”
“night laurel.” conrad muttered
“night kids.” you could hear the humor in her voice
Back up in your room you were both now in bed with the light of the tv shining on the both of you. Conrad’s eyes drifted but he just stared at you.
“can i cuddle you?” he asked softly
“you don’t need to ask.” he moved closer to you hugging you to him, his head on your shoulder and you moved your hand to run though his hair “con?”
“yeah?” you moved to look at him and leaned down to kiss him for the first time that night
“i love you.” he smiled genuinely the first time since you saw him
“i love you.” he closed his eyes and kissed your neck
Soon enough his soft snoring filled the room as you continued to watch your show until you followed him into the dream state.
#the summer i turned pretty#conrad fisher#tsitp#prime video#conrad fisher x fem!reader#the summer i turned pretty season 2#conrad fisher one shot#conrad fisher imagine#conrad fisher x you#conrad x reader#conrad fisher x reader#conrad fisher fluff#conrad fisher x y/n#conrad fisher smut
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