#things I think both Steve and Nancy would say but in very different ways | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sidekick-hero · 2 months

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"He probably thinks I don't love him, Robin. Which is... ridiculous. I do! I really, really do. I just can't say it." Steve is pacing around the blissfully empty Family Video Store, his hands making a mess of his hair as they run through it in frustration.

"This is so stupid. I* am* so stupid, it's just four stupid letters, even a preschooler can say it," he rambles, his eyes wild as they look at Robin. "Why am I like this, Robbie?" His voice breaks, along with his heart, at the thought of Eddie doubting Steve's feelings for him for even a second.

Robin walks over to him and grips his shoulders tightly, her blue eyes boring into his as she says in her firmest you-listen-to-me-now voice. "You're not stupid. This is my best friend you're talking about, so watch it." That earns her at least a half-smile, which counts as a victory considering Steve was already pinching his nose to hold back tears.

"I know you love him, Steve. Everyone knows it. One look at you when he's in the room, or even when you're just talking about him, is enough to know you love him. And I'm sure Eddie knows it too. He has to."

Robin's words soothe some of the fear in Steve's heart, knowing that she would tell him if she really thought he had messed up. But even though it's okay now, Eddie won't wait forever for Steve to say those three little words. No one would. Steve knows that his heart couldn't take being with Eddie, loving Eddie and telling him that, only to never hear it back from him.

"I don't know. Even if you're right, I feel like I'm losing him. That something in me is broken, and one day he'll realize that too, and then he'll leave." With an even smaller voice Steve adds: "I can't lose him, Robbie".

They don't hug very often. Robin shows her affection in many ways, but most of them aren't overly physical. That's Eddie's job, clinging to Steve like a koala most days, always touching Steve in some way, even if it's just his shoulder nudging Steve's. Robin pulling him into a tight hug now means a lot to him, but it's also a testament to the gravity of the situation.

With their arms around each other between the horror and action movie sections, Steve takes a moment to just soak in the comfort she offers. What happened at Starcourt messed them both up, caused them both more trauma than any teenager should have to deal with, but on a very selfish level, Steve can't help but be grateful that it happened. A life without Robin Buckley sounds like the greater horror to him.

After a few minutes, Robin gently pulls away from Steve to look at him. He's reluctant to let her go, even though he knows this is an even longer hug than the one she gave him when Nancy told him they weren't getting back together after defeating Vecna. She wanted to go to Boston, make a career, see the world. And Steve? Steve wanted a home, a place to belong, and someone to share that home with. They wanted different things, he realizes now.

That doesn't mean it didn't open old wounds, memories of how it felt to be rejected by her, his love for her thrown in his face like it was worthless. Bullshit.

As attuned to him and his thoughts as ever, a true testament to the fact that they share a brain cell, Robin says, "I think it's understandable that you can't say it. The last time you told someone you loved them, you were hurt, badly. Your heart is probably just trying to protect itself. Like a kid who touched a hot stove and got burned wouldn't touch another stove, you know?"

Steve nods, because in a way it makes sense. It just doesn't help him to know.

"But what am I supposed to do, Robin? It's not Eddie's fault that I'm broken."

"You, Steve Harrington, are not broken. Just a little bruised. There is nothing wrong with you just because you got hurt and have the scars to show for it. Like Max, because of the injuries to her leg, she cannot walk like she used to before Vecna, so she uses her crutch. She's not broken. Is she?"

"No, of course not. If anything, she's even stronger now, I saw her hit Lucas with the crutch and tell him to hurry up on the way to the movies," Steve says, smiling at the memory.

"See!" Robin waves her hand at him in excitement, almost bouncing with it. "All you need is a crutch!"

They look at each other wide-eyed before matching smiles break out on their faces, Robin's giddy at having found a solution, Steve's reflecting the tentative hope blossoming in his chest.

His talk with Robin certainly helped, but as Valentine's Day approaches, the fears and insecurities start to creep back in. It's not even like Eddie is giving him any indication that he's not happy with Steve or their relationship. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Eddie tells him he loves him almost every time they see each other, at the most random moments. Some days he whispers it in Steve's ear to wake him up, other days it's his way of saying good night to him with his arm around Steve's waist and his hand over Steve's heart in a protective grip. He says it casually when Steve brings him breakfast in bed or lunch to the record store where he now works. Just yesterday he said it while Steve was buried deep inside him, their hands intertwined beside Eddie's head and brown eyes looking softly up at Steve.

It's not meant to make him feel bad about himself, he knows that.

He still does.

So when he opens his front door to the sight of Eddie standing on his doorstep in his nicest jeans and a forest green button-down Steve has never seen before, clearly having put some real effort into his appearance, Steve almost crumbles.

He's a shitty boyfriend, isn't he? There's this amazing guy who goes out of his way to look nice for Steve, even though he doesn't even like Valentine's Day, just because he knows it's important to Steve. And he can't even tell him he loves him.

Some of what he's feeling must be showing on his face, because Eddie's cheerful smile falls and he hurries into the house to pull Steve into his arms, slamming the door shut with his foot.

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry, I told Dustin green wasn't my color, but he insisted. I look hideous, don't I?"

That makes Steve snort wetly into Eddie's neck before muttering a fond "Idiot" into it.

Eddie just hums, obviously pleased with himself for making Steve laugh. "You can tell me. You know I don't mind getting naked for you."

"You're getting a little ahead of yourself, aren't you?"

Eddie grinned wolfishly at him. "I don't know, the tear in my Hellfire shirt from when you ripped it off me begs to differ."

Steve blushes at the memory, even as he laughs at Eddie's words. Instead of saying anything else, Steve pulls him back into his arms and Eddie goes willingly.

"Hi, baby," he says, his nose brushing behind Steve's ear.

"Hi." Steve breathes him in, the smell of cigarette smoke and his shampoo strong where his nose is buried in Eddie's hair.

They don't let go for a long time.

It's Eddie who pulls back first, and Steve does his best not to read into it. "You want to tell me what's going on?"

The Steve from before the Upside Down would have just shaken his head and told Eddie that everything was fine before pulling him into the bedroom to reassure them both that it was. Not talking about his feelings, fears, and needs might have worked for hookups, but he learned the hard way that it doesn't work when you want to be in a relationship.

So Steve takes Eddie's hand and leads him over to the couch where they both sit facing each other. They don't let go of each other's hands.

"I know you're probably wondering why I haven't told you... why I haven't said it yet."

Eddie's eyebrows disappear behind his fringe. "It?"

Sighing, Steve watches his fingers run over Eddie's knuckles. "You know. That I love you."

"Oh."

It's hard to place Eddie's tone, and even harder to place the silence that follows, but it makes his knee jiggle with nerves and his stomach churn. Usually it's Eddie who tends to fill the silence between them when it feels too big, too heavy, but today it's Steve.

"It's not because I don't want to, I swear. It's just," another frustrated sigh, the hand currently not held by Eddie's rubbing over his face, "I just can't say it. And I am so, so sorry, because you deserve to hear it. Every day. But I can't... I can't. So I understand if you don't want to do this anymore. You deserve better, Eddie. You really, really do."

Eddie lets Steve's words settle between them, aching and raw, but he never lets go of Steve's hand.

"You're right," he finally says, and the sound of Steve's heart breaking is deafening to his own ears. Pinching his nose, he tries to take his hand back from Eddie, but his boyfriend (if he can still call him that) won't budge. "You're right about me wondering, Steve. But that was before."

Looking up, a frown forming between his eyebrows, Steve asks, "Before?"

"Before I realized that you do tell me that you love me, every day. You say it when you tiptoe around the trailer in the morning to make breakfast without waking me. You tell me every time you pack an extra blanket or sweater when we go to the quarry because you know I always get cold. I hear it loud and clear every time you bring me lunch, even though it means you waste most of your own lunch break driving around town. It's in the way you try so hard to make Wayne like you because you know how much that means to me, and in the way you hold me after another nightmare, and in the way you kiss me sometimes like there's nothing in the world you'd rather be doing, without it having to lead anywhere, just because you like kissing me."

Eddie scooted forward and bridged the gap between them by taking Steve's face in his hands.

"Steve, you've been telling me you love me for months with everything except words. I don't really need them. It's just a four-letter word."

And, fuck, now Steve is crying. Eddie wipes away his tears with his thumbs, and when that's not enough, he kisses them away with his lips.

Steve is so in love with him that he has no idea how the feeling even fits in his body.

"Damn," he chuckles wetly, "that means I didn't even have to find a crutch?"

Now it's Eddie's turn to look at Steve in confusion, clearly worried that his boyfriend might have lost his mind. "What crutch? Is this a sex thing?"

Laughing and shaking his head fondly, Steve raises his free hand to his head, palm facing Eddie. Then he brings his thumb, index finger, and little finger up, keeping his ring and middle fingers down, before moving his hand back and forth slightly.

"Robin came up with this. She said if I couldn't say the words with my mouth, maybe I could say them in a different way. I thought of trying sign language," Steve adds sheepishly.

Before he knows what's happening, Eddie is on top of him, pressing him into the couch with his body weight and showering his face with kisses.

"You're so smart," kiss, "and beautiful," kiss, "and wonderful," kiss, "and I love you so much." The last part is accompanied by a lingering kiss on his lips and Steve melts under it.

Even though he obviously didn't have to tell Eddie this way, Steve is glad that he did.

He also thinks it won't be long before he can say those words, too. If anyone can help him walk without a crutch, it's Eddie.

#steddie #steddie fanfiction #steddie fluff #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddielovemonth #day 27 #love is just a 4 letter word #my writing

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unclewaynemunson · 9 months

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More often than not, it doesn't work out.

Robin first learned that lesson with Vickie, when she thought she found the love of her life but ended up breaking things off because the way in which Vickie mirrored her anxiety back to her enhanced it tenfold and it turned out to be completely exhausting to keep up with that after the first wave of butterflies had died down.

After Vickie, there was Laura. Laura, with whom it seemed to work out until she told Robin that she couldn't bear keeping up with her weird, unsettling and way too vivid nightmares about Russian spies and monsters from fantasy stories every other night.

After Laura, there was Julia. Julia, who was amazing for four whole months until she told Robin with tears in her eyes that she couldn't tolerate the cheating anymore. It didn't matter how often Robin told her that sleeping with someone didn't necessarily mean sleeping with someone, that Steve was like a brother to her – and that the whole thing was utterly ridiculous in the first place because Robin was very much a lesbian. Needless to say, it didn't work out.

Then, there was Amy. Amy, who, like a cruel twist of fate, actually cheated on Robin. It was only a one-time thing, a drunken kiss during some stupid party, but it was enough to damage Robin's trust in her irreparably. So it didn't work out.

Up until then, she had chalked it up to a string of bad luck or maybe bad taste. But after Louise (who brought up the nightmares again), Valerie (who wanted some adventure in the bedroom and had to guide Robin through a panic attack filled with inexplicable flashbacks when she tried tying her to the bedframe), and Mathilde (who made a problem of Robin's regular 3am calls with Steve when neither of them could sleep), she starts to wonder if it wouldn't be more probable that it is herself who is the problem instead of this whole list of girls.

“Don't you dare say that about yourself,” says Nancy with fire in her voice when Robin finally dares to voice that thought out loud.

They're both lying down on Nancy's brand new couch, a pair of legs dangling over each side and their heads right next to each other in the middle. Except for that couch, the living room is still empty. Boxes are piled up everywhere, still waiting to be unpacked, but they can wait a little longer.

Robin is happy to have Nancy at her side again. It's been a while: college and differing career paths kept them separated through the majority of their friendship. But now Nancy has found her way back to Indiana, only half an hour away from where Robin has been living with Steve and Eddie ever since Mathilde broke up with her a few months ago.

She hasn't really been dating anyone since, and now that Nancy is also living in Indianapolis, she wonders if she'll ever feel the need to. No girl would ever be able to compare to Nancy Wheeler, after all; Robin knew that much as soon as she saw Nancy stepping out of the U-Haul wearing pastel-pink dungarees, with all grown-out curls cascading over her back and a thick layer of eyeliner around her beautiful doe eyes.

“Well, it could be true,” Robin presses on.

“No it can't!” Nancy says it in such an indignant tone that it makes Robin snort skeptically.

“I'm serious, Rob.” It sounds stern. “I know you and I know it's not true. It's not your fault.”

“You're seriously telling me I've been dating seven girls over the past seven years, and none of it worked out, and it's all because of them? All those relationships were wildly different; I'm the one consistent factor in all of them, Nance.”

“Yeah, but that doesn't mean you're the problem.” Nancy says it like it's obvious. “Maybe the problem is that you've been picking girls who all have one single thing in common, and that is that they never wanted to make the effort to really listen to you.”

"Huh." Robin closes her eyes for a second, taking her time to let those words sink in. She never thought about it that way. “You think so?”

“Yeah. Mathilde was a bitch anyway,” Nancy says matter-of-factly. “I mean, did she ever ask you to explain why you've been feeling the need to call Steve in the middle of the night lately?”

Robin shrugs. “That's a bit difficult to explain, isn't it?” she points out.

“That's what I'm saying,” says Nancy. “It's exactly why you keep picking out those kind of girls. Because if you're with someone who will actually listen to your story, you're gonna have a problem. Right?”

And, well, shit. It's not like Robin asked for a free therapy session here, but... Nancy is right. Of course she is. She always is.

Robin turns her head to the side, exchanging her view on the white ceiling for a much better one: Nancy's face, so close to her own that she can take in every little detail. The elegant slope of her nose, the wing of her eyeliner, the freckles on her cheeks, her perfect lips... Her face in this en-profile position is mesmerizing. It's not the first time that the thought comes to Robin's mind that Nancy looks like someone who should be in old paintings.

“Do you think you'll ever try to find someone who listens to you?” Nancy asks.

Robin tries to imagine that scenario; it's difficult. Not just because she doesn't really know how that would work in the first place, but mostly because she doesn't actually want to.

“Nah,” she says, trying to make it sound casual instead of really fucking sad.

“Why not?”

Because nobody can ever compare to you anyway, she thinks. But she bites her tongue and shrugs, turning her head back to the ceiling.

“That would be way too complicated, wouldn't it?”

Nancy shuffles and sighs; Robin feels her breath tickle against her cheek.

“I guess,” she mumbles.

“How did you do it?” Robin asks.

Nancy's dating history is not as tumultuous as Robin's. After things ended between her and Jonathan, she had been solo for a while. Then, there had been Ben, and then Kurt, and then it had again been just Nancy for a long time.

“Did what?”

“Did you ever find a way to tell Kurt about all the shit?”

“Nope.” It doesn't exactly sound like she tried very hard.

“Why not?”

“Because I did the same thing you did,” Nancy says. “Chose the wrong people to do that with. So I didn't have to think about it.”

That doesn't feel completely fair to Robin; Nancy had been with her boyfriends longer than Robin had been able to keep even one of her girlfriends around.

“I liked Kurt, he was nice,” she remarks in an attempt to point out the difference without being too blunt about it.

Nancy sighs. “Yeah, he was nice, but he wasn't... Right. I knew that from the beginning. Same with Ben. Even with Jonathan, in a way. Or Steve, even though I was too young to realize it.”

“What do you mean, not right?”

“Boys.”

“Wha-” Robin turns her head sideways so fast that she's lucky she doesn't pull a muscle.

She sees how Nancy's eyes drop from the ceiling and slowly find their way to Robin's face.

“Took me a while to figure that one out,” she says quietly. “But yeah.”

Robin wishes they were lying in a different position; one that would have made it possible for her to take Nancy's hand and squeeze it gently, or to wrap an arm around her, or to pull her in for a hug.

“Thank you for telling me.”

A soft smile is tugging at Nancy's lips. She looks at Robin like she wants to say something, then looks back up to the ceiling again, and Robin copies her movement, biting her own tongue again in order to give Nancy the time and space she clearly needs right now.

Usually, Robin struggles with silences; she'll feel words pile up inside of her until her need to fill the empty space will take over and she'll inevitably start rambling. But this one actually feels comfortable. She wishes that they could keep lying side-by-side on this couch for the rest of the day.

Unfortunately, they can't, though. There's still way too much work to be done. So Nancy hauls her to her feet and soon, the couch gets company of a coffee table, a couple of cozy armchairs, a bookcase, a TV... There are boxes filled with books, kitchen appliances, picture frames, video tapes, clothes; there are closets that need to get assembled and a heavy bedframe that they can barely get to where they need it.

It feels like it will never end, but after two long days of hauling furniture around, the apartment starts to look like a home. A home for which Robin gets a spare key. It rests cold and shiny against the palm of her hand, where Nancy has dropped it, and it makes her realize how real it is that Nancy is finally living close to her again.

Nancy's couch becomes just as much of a home for Robin as her own living room. It's where the two of them share stories, tell secrets, laugh loudly, cry ugly... It's where they watch movies until deep in the night, snuggled up to each other under a soft blanket. It's where they read books side-by-side on lazy Sunday afternoons. It's where they listen to music together and where they listen to what the other has to tell about their day or about anything that's on their minds. It's where Robin finally gets the courage to tell Nancy that nobody has ever listened to her the way Nancy does. It's where Nancy scoots closer towards her to press a kiss against her cheek, right before she finds Robin's lips and they share their first kiss, warm and homely and perfect.

More often than not, it doesn't work out. But once in a lifetime, it does. And once is exactly enough.

#don't mind me rambling about stranger things #ronance #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #stranger things #fruity ficlet

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apomaro-mellow · 3 months

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idk how detailed of a prompt ur looking for but: Eddie thinks Steve's chest hair is hot for the bingo

im thinking of them going to the lake or something and Steve takes off his shirt and Eds nearly has a heatt attack bc yeah he'd seen Steve's chest before but he kinda repressed it? along with the whole upside down deal so he's like choking at the sight and at the newly found memory lol

but anything you come up with will be amazing im sure <3

every time i get a prompt i rub my lil raccoon hands together ehehehe

They weren't going to Lover's Lake. That had been the one thing everyone agreed on at first. Too much to unpack but it went without saying that no one wanted to relive the memory of what had happened in those waters. They all packed up and went about three hours away to a totally different town with a totally different lake.

"Summer time, a bunch of teens, a town where no one knows us", Eddie commented as they parked. "Did we just drive into another horror movie set up?"

"I think we can handle some random killer in the woods", Jonathan said.

Eddie couldn't argue. He knew for a fact that Steve had packed away his oh so trusty nail bat and that Nancy was strapped too. At a moment's notice, Robin looked ready to turn a beer into a makeshift molotov. But that was the last thought he wasted on the spring break from hell. Because the moment everything was set up, Steve pulled his shirt off like he was in a goddamn cologne ad.

That unnecessarily sexy way where he grabbed it off his back and pulled it of, shaking out his hair as if it would dare to fall out of place.

So here's the thing.

Eddie saw Steve shirtless that one time back in Hawkins. But it had been dark, and they were on a boat hunting an evil wizard and then in an underworld running from demon bats and there had been a lot going on, okay? He's ogled Steve plenty since then, now that he had time to, but he hadn't had an opportunity to see his naked chest again.

"Put on sunscreen!", Robin shouted, tossing it at Steve's head.

"Ow! Rude!" Steve picked it up and obeyed anyway, starting at his arms. Time seemed to slow. Or maybe Steve was purposely going slow, it was hard to tell. Then his eyes met Eddie and his next stroke up towards his neck seemed very intentional.

Eddie swallowed.

"Mind getting my back?", Steve asked.

Eddie didn't trust his mouth for once, so he just nodded, taking the tube of sunscreen and was definitely not thinking about squirting another kind of creamy white substance onto this beautifully dotted back. He tried to distract himself by looking at what the others were doing. Jonathan had already lit up a joint that he was now passing to Nancy. Robin was laid out in a chair, nose in a book.

Argyle was leading the kids down the shore to where they could rent out canoes. Or was it kayaks? All Eddie knew was that El was adamant on some sort of boating adventure.

"You okay back there?", Steve asked.

"Yep, yup, mhm. Almost done." He was done. The sunscreen was completely gone and he was just rubbing circles into his skin for no reason.

"You mind doing my chest too?"

"Wh-hat?", Eddie choked.

"I don't really like the feel of sunscreen on my hands", Steve justified and that was good enough for Eddie.

He still wasn't prepared for when Steve turned around. Eddie sat between his legs and god this might've been the closest they've ever been. Especially with this little amount of clothes between them, both of them in their swimming trunks and nothing else. Eddie squeezed some sunscreen onto his hands first, rubbing them together and warming it before pressing them to Steve's chest.

Goddamn it felt so....would it get thicker as he got older? It went all the way up to his collarbone and there was just a hint of a happy trail now but maybe with some time...

"They do know we're still here, right?", Nancy asked after letting out a puff. True, they were some feet away but still.

"I've got a spray bottle in case they go below the waist", Robin said, shaking said bottle.

Steddie bingo under the cut

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #thanks for the ask!#no they're not dating #yet #but by the end of this trip they might be #given that steve is straight up seducing eddie LOL

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silkscream · 2 years

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𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩

ੈ✩ pairing: steve harrington x reader

ੈ✩ summary: you and steve settle your differences when he drives you home.

ੈ✩ warnings: smut (18+), dom!steve, fingering, unprotected sex, drug use, not edited

steve harrington is good at being patient. he knows this — and he’s taken pride in it, too. from surviving getting beaten by russian spies with robin to following dustin around as both a bodyguard and a surrogate father.

steve harrington isn’t good at biting his tongue, though. he says what’s on his mind at all times, doesn’t care (or register) if anything that comes out of his mouth is particularly stupid. but it’s earnest and it’s real, which is all that matters.

with you, at the moment, however, he’s wary about what he says to you and he is absolutely less than patient with you. you’re frustrating to him to no end, actually, and he’s starting to let things slip that he might regret later. he feels like his blood is actually warming up from the mere feeling of your eyes searing into him during this useless argument.

he doesn’t even know what you’re arguing about, but he knows that you’ve pissed him off since the moment he met you. dealing with eddie munson was enough, but steve had gotten around to the metalhead after having him aboard the crew. but you, eddie’s best friend — god, you were a fuckin’ piece of work. it was like the universe created you just to push steve’s buttons.

the situation at hand isn’t high stakes. not at all. it just so happened that eddie could drive himself back to his place on his own after the horror movie marathon at robin’s, robin fell asleep early on, nancy had just been dropped off by steve, and now you were the last one left on the way to steve’s house. and sometimes your teasing went a bit too far, you got under his skin too easily. he doesn’t want to admit how easy it is for you to get under his skin with just one look from you.

“god, you are so fucking insufferable sometimes,” steve mumbles under his breath.

“gee, thanks.”

he clenches his jaw in anger, but he feels a twinge of guilt assaulting his chest at the moment from the way your voice sounds so small, so despondent. silence ensues for about a minute and a half of “drive” by the cars.

real silence permeates the space when you pettily turn the radio knob down until the sound of ric ocasek’s voice fades to black.

“what the fuck was that for?” steve demands, shooting you a glare.

“the cars are annoying.”

“this is my car, morticia addams. so i play the fucking music!”

ah, that nickname again. it was a rough attempt to criticize your style, which was mostly you wearing all black and having a love for eyeliner, but you consider it a compliment at this point.

“then pull over and i’ll get out of it since you seem to abhor me this much!” you huff, hand clutching the door next to you. the action makes steve slow down to a stop rather abruptly because he thinks you’re actually about to jump out of his moving car. the adrenaline nearly strikes his heart.

once the car stops, he’s quick to shove his body into your space, arm outstretched to block you from opening the passenger door. you glare at him through heavy lashes.

“no one uses the word ‘abhor’ in everyday conversation, you freak,” he murmurs.

and to his surprise, you laugh. it’s a sound he doesn’t hear very often, and when he does, it’s not like the reason is ever him.

“i’m surprised you know what that word means, harrington,” you chide.

steve wants to retaliate, wants to one-up you in any way he can, but the reality is that it’s nearly one in the morning and he’d be tired to death if you weren’t there to rile him up. and while he’s trapped you in the passenger seat of his car while it’s parked, he doesn’t know what he’s doing, didn’t think about what would happen after this. he knows he should make nice with you, just for eight more minutes until he can drop you off at your place. but the tension between you is as thick as fog. so he releases all of his inhibitions instead.

it’s like whiplash, the way his mouth sews itself onto yours like it belongs there. you surprise yourself as well for kissing back, for finally clutching steve fucking harrington’s full locks. you don’t even have time to hate yourself for it because of how good his mouth feels on yours. you realize how badly you want to crawl into his lap.

“to the back,” you croak meekly, but he takes it as a command. it’s funnier when it happens seconds later — you climb out of the car to get into the back while steve reorganizes his long limbs through the middle instead, nearly falling to the floor from his lack of coordination while you laugh in response.

“you’re so fuckin’ stupid, come here,” you roll your eyes, pulling him up so that he can sit in the backseat properly so you can straddle him.

steve’s never felt this kind of elation in intimacy — not with heidi or lydia or even nancy. no, you were as unprecedented as it came, and kissing you felt like a leap between two fucking mountains. now that he’d taken that leap, he thinks he’s fine with dying considering how much this felt like heaven.

“you want this, harrington?” you whisper breathlessly into his mouth as you grind into his lap. “been awful quiet lately.”

“oh, don’t get all fuckin’ cocky like i didn’t kiss you first,” he gruffs, his voice low. the sound of it makes your core heat up, not to mention the way he snakes his hand up your body and onto the base of your throat. “my car, my rules. still stands, sweetheart.”

you picked the wrong night to underestimate steve harrington. from all that taunting, he feels the need to put you in your place, which he can do perfectly fine even if you happen to be on top of him. he grins at the way your breath hitches when his teeth are on your throat, when he clutches your wrists and keeps them in place inside of his bigger hands just so you can’t move.

“tell me to stop and i will. i’ll take you home and we can pretend this never happened–”

“shut up,” you mumble. “just shut up and keep going.”

“okay. you wanna lay down for me on the seat, then?”

“no,” you whisper. embarrassingly, you can feel your wetness seeping through your panties. steve must be able to feel it too considering you’re wearing a skirt. you hated how wet you got from the moment he kissed you, and now you’ve fallen completely under his spell, the haze of lust exacerbated by the edible that eddie had given you an hour prior.

“what do you want?” steve says with caution. he’s let go of your hands now, instead grabbing your waist gently.

“don’t make me say it,” you whine.

“you’re already on my fuckin’ lap, now you wanna be ashamed?” he scoffs. “tell me. or i’m driving you home.”

“want you to fuck me.”

“huh? what was that?” he taunts. “use your big girl voice for me.”

“i want you to fuck me!”

“atta girl.”

it surprises you how quick he is to discard your underwear for you, how fast he gets his fingers circling your wet folds in a way that makes your skin burn.

“steve, don’t tease me.”

he doesn’t respond, only smirks at you and gives your ass a smack. you whimper. steve doesn’t want to admit he’s on a power trip, he really doesn’t, but it’s the first time you’ve ever been desperate for him. for fuck’s sake, it’s the first time he’s known you really wanted him at all, but he still wants the upper hand for the fact that you’d pissed him off for the entirety of the night. he deserves a little compensation.

and you give it to him, you fold so quickly that maybe the edible flooding your senses is what’s making everything feel like a fucking movie. steve harrington fucks into you like his life depends on it and his strong hands are making bruises on the small of your back.

his cock feels so good – so deep – that you’re moaning in ecstasy from the feeling of being split open. steve likes it when you bury your face into his neck, loves it actually, because then he can smell the scent of your hippie-dippy all-natural shampoo and hear every single sound you make right it in his ear. you’re too high to be embarrassed about how you sound. he thinks you sound angelic.

grinding on his cock makes your thighs burn, makes your entire body quiver when you realize the hilt of your position and how the piercing feeling of your g-spot means you’re about to tip over the edge.

“breathe for me, okay?” steve coos into your ear, a saccharine softness that confounds you. “you’re doing so good.”

when you mewl for him once more, he grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls backward just so he can see your face in all its glory, mouth ajar and widening from the impact of his cock inside your walls. he attacks your throat with small lovebites, kisses sinking into flesh until the skin bruises incarnadine-red.

you don’t recognize your own voice, how it’s so high and fawning and submissive. not you. the girl that most boys in hawkins high would be afraid of. steve has never been afraid of you – he merely saw you as a challenge. at the moment, this was a challenge he seemed to be winning.

“s-steve, fuck,” you hum, hot air surrounding your bodies. you’re titillating towards something as intense as the big bang, you think. at least that’s what your inebriated brain is telling you.

“what is it, huh? not falling apart on me so soon, are ya?” steve quips as he thrusts into you.

“feels too good,” you rasp. “i’m… i’m gonna–”

“that’s a good girl. that’s a good fuckin’ girl, huh?”

if he speaks any more, you’ll probably fucking explode. you’re too exhausted, too overwhelmed to ride him as he fucks you dumb, but he continues anyway. steve hands hold you in place with an iron grip, your body still as your figure drapes over his with arms wrapped around his neck while he fucks into you.

“oh, oh my god,” you cry out.

“gonna cum for me, you little slut?”

you can barely respond, instead moaning into his ear with an intensity that’s borderline obscene.

“stevie–”

“you can do it, i’ve got you.”

he groans at the way your body shakes, tears pricking slightly from your eyes and coaxing out streaks of black eyeliner to smudge around your waterline. the sight alone nearly makes him come undone, so he has to pull out of you before he loses himself completely.

“fuck, fuck, so pretty,” he gasps. “all for me?”

“yeah,” you whine, breathing heavily from your recovery but still grinding against steve’s thigh in anticipation of his orgasm. you watch in excitement as he stares at you starry-eyed, jaw slack while his hand pumps his thick cock. you take pride in the way he whines and grunts, the way he bites his lip to hold back his moans even though he can’t.

it doesn’t take long for him to cum all over your skirt. it’s funny, the way he’d been eyeing it the entire movie night and covering up his attraction with insults and banter. you pushed him over the edge much too often. this happened to be the one time there were consequences about it.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #joe keery x you #joe keery x reader #joe keery smut

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plainemmanem · 2 years

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i just know steve loves risky sex. he loves working you up and fucking you the the closest possible location<3

steve loves to get wine drunk. prove me wrong.

Steve was handsy. Really handsy. All the time, actually.

It was usually subtle, just little touches, here and there. His knee brushing yours when you sit side by side on the couch. His pinky overlapping yours on the table when you sit together in the diner booth. His arm casually resting on the back of the couch, just resting over your shoulders, his heat blossoming up your neck. His hand swiping against yours as you walk side-by-side into the arcade.

Just little things. Things only you two would ever notice. Because no one else got that little jolt of electricity from Steve’s touch quite like you did. And no one else was so gutturally drawn to you quite like Steve was.

It was like you two were always off in your own separate little world, wrapped up in one another. Even when you hung out with the group, it always felt like you and Steve were just a touch out of the circle, hyper-aware of the other and not much else.

It could be distracting at times, but you both really couldn’t help it.

You can’t help it when your eyes immediately snap to Steve after Eddie says a joke, giggling when you spot his eyes already on you. You can’t help it when you subconsciously tuck yourself further into his side as Robin dishes out her newest drama from work. He couldn’t stop his fingers from reaching out to brush the flyaways behind your ear, completely zoned out of Dustin’s ramblings. He can’t help it when his eyes focus on your lips when you talk, or when you smear on chapstick, or when you take a hit from Eddie’s cigarette.

Loving each other truly just became second nature.

A night out at the bar always went a similar way, you knew how he could get.

You knew it was only a matter of time before you would inevitably fall down his usual trap. You knew it was only a matter of time before he was dragging you back to the bar’s bathroom and sucking hickeys into your neck.

Steve really had the whole thing down to a science at this point.

It would all start out very innocent. Until it wasn't.

Every time you went out with the group, you always pushed yourself to branch out and try a new drink, constantly on the hunt for your new “signature drink of choice.” You claimed you always felt left out: Robin had her wine (always red), Nancy had her classy Rosé, Jonathan always ordered some drink your dad would order, and Steve, without fail, always ordered a beer. You, however, could never pinpoint your signature drink, and it was your new mission to work your way through the entire menu until you something characteristically "you."

Steve knew it was silly. He knew you were particular. He always knew you would inevitably hate whatever random concoction you would insist upon ordering for the night. He knew you would take two sips — the first a fluke and the second a resounding “no” — before you would eventually order something else, the beverage ultimately going to waste. So he always ordered something he knew you’d drink. Usually, he ordered a beer. Not because you particularly liked beer, but he really loved watching you drink them. Watching you wrap your lips around the bottleneck and take a mouthful, a slight sheen on your lips. So, maybe the choice of beer was a little selfish, but you never seemed to mind all that much.

And tonight was no different. You ordered something strange Steve never heard of before: A Charlie Manson or something. How you discover these random drinks, he never knows. But, the second he heard you prattle off “spiced rum” in the list of ingredients, he knew this certainly wouldn’t be your new signature drink of choice. You took a sip, scrunching your nose and puckering your lips enough to make him chuckle, before pushing it aside, not even offering it the courtesy of a second sip.

“Tastes….” you trail off, trying to think of an adequate descriptor for the aftertaste sizzling on your tongue.

“Spiced?” he offered, a slight smirk on his lips.

“Hm. Yeah. Something like that…”

“I take it you don’t like?” he asked, reaching across you to grab the drink and take a sniff himself.

“Does she ever?” Robin butts in, giving your foot a slight knock under the table.

It was just you three at the start of the night. Nancy and Jonathon always came late and Eddie can never come Friday nights because of Hellfire, so it was a much more intimate affair with just you three at the corner booth. You liked Robin, and Robin claims to like you more than Steve, much to his chagrin, so you all fall into easy conversation.

“Hey! I liked that one the other week! It was the um… the one with the orange slice on top? It had that fancy stuff in it?” You turn to Steve, expecting him to have an answer. His brow furrows a tad, trying to recall, but all his thoughts evade him when you squeeze his thigh a tad, hoping to spur his memory.

“The Sidecar?” Robin asks, taking a sip from her wine glass.

You spin back to face her, nearly knocking over your own drink along the way. “Right! Yes, The Sidecar! That one was pretty good.”

“Thought you said it was too orangey for you?” Steve questions, bringing his own drink to his lips and squinting his eyes at you suspiciously.

“Well, it was better than whatever this is,” you mumble, rubbing your finger over the rim of your glass, eyeing his own beer longingly.

He catches your gaze and rolls his eyes, setting the bottle down in front of you and casually wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

You give him an innocent Can I have some? look and he gives you a minuscule nod in return, a silent Go ahead.

His eyes can’t leave your lips. You take a tiny sip, the whole ordeal is about three seconds long, but Steve can feel his pants get a smidge tighter and the temperature of the room raise a few degrees. It’s silly. It stupid silly how easy you can get to him. He can’t even imagine how he’d behave if you were actually trying to work him up.

You set the bottle down and give him a small, thankful smile, your hand coming to rest on his jean clad thigh, before he realizes how long he’s been staring. His eyes snap back up to Robin as he clears his throat, disgust obvious on her face.

Robin knew the routine, too. She also knew it was only a matter of time before Steve decided to pull something. It was usually after you two shared your fourth drink. That’s when he started to get real bold. Usually you two have headed to the back before the fifth drink has even arrived. Clockwork.

But drink one was still halfway finished, and Steve was just getting started on his antics. Once he had his arm around your shoulders, he always found some excuse to tug you in tighter, a fake reach across the table for some more napkins or an exaggerated flagging down the waiter usually did the trick. Tonight it was a fake stretch. The arch of his back, his arm leaving your shoulders for a moment, then his grip was back and tighter than before.

He was never slick about it. You of course knew, Robin knew, hell, the couple across the bar could probably tell he was pulling some sort of move. But he was just so stupidly cocky about it, he always pulled it off. Every time.

With your first drink gone, he flagged down the waiter and asked for two more - one for Robin, and one for you two to share. Why he never got three always crossed your mind, but you never brought it up. You liked to share.

And then you were on to drink two.

Steve usually started testing the waters a bit more here. Brushing your hair behind your ears as you spoke and drawing little designs into your knee under the table. Every touch is always so light and he knows it drives you wild. Your thighs squeeze together a bit more, your grip on the bottle just a bit tighter. He loved winding you up a bit. You were so responsive, so sensitive when you were tipsy.

Drink two goes down easier than the first. Now you’re both just a touch intoxicated. Walls beginning to crumple just a bit. Robin, the lightweight, usually taps out at three, so she’s the life of the party by now, rambling about her new crush at work and her lack of a car and her hopes for the very, very distant future. At this point it’s usually just you and Steve giggling at Robin’s disjointed speeches, and then laughing a bit harder at her pouting when she realizes she is, once again, the butt of the joke.

Steve usually orders drink three rather fast. Now he’s growing a bit impatient. Robin’s usually not paying attention, off in her own world, which gives Steve a bit of free reign. Now he starts getting…. bold.

He’ll lean down to your ear, and whisper little things to you. Telling you how pretty you look tonight and how much he wants to kiss you right now in front of everyone and how he wishes he could just drag you to the back and-

But he’s usually interrupted when Nancy and Jonathan arrive.

They usually drink a good deal less than everyone else, so they typically show up a bit late to the party; early enough where they can still partially decipher Robin’s slurred speech but still late enough where they don’t have to share the usual pleasantries at the start of the night.

It’s a tight squeeze in the corner booth, but you all squeeze in, with Robin smushed between the two couples. You usually sit next to Robin, with Steve on the end, watching over her and making sure she doesn’t spill her drink or order anything else besides water.

Once you all catch up a bit and order a few more drinks, Steve is just about at his breaking point.

Eventually Robin will succumb Nancy and Jonathan to her usual “Family Video sucks” rant, which leaves Steve in the free and clear.

He leans down a bit, playing with the ends of you hair and rubbing little circles into the top of your shoulder.

“Y’know what I was thinking of, just now?” The timber of his voice is a bit rough as he tries to keep his tone hushed. To an outsider, his little whispers appear innocent, just your boyfriend indulging you in a private joke. He always wears his casual, confident smirk as he whispers filth in your ear. “I was just thinking of last night. D’you remember last night?”

Your eyes drop a little at the memory. You let out a small “mmhm” as you nod your head yes.

A light chuckle leaves him when he realizes you can’t meet his gaze. “I was just thinking about the sounds you were making.” He laughs lowly as if he truly was whispering some funny joke. “Jesus, you were loud, remember? Thought you would lose your voice with how much you were whimpering and begging and all that. After the fourth or fifth round, swear to god, I thought you forgot your own nam-”

“I need to pee.” You pop up immediately, pulling yourself out of your intense conversation with the devil beside you. The whole table gives you a look, obviously assuming you’re too tipsy to maintain your filter, as you shoot daggers at Steve quickly. He loved to embarrass you, push you and push you until you snapped. The fact you two had an audience only made it that much more fun for him.

You jab his ribs a little with your pointer finger, prompting him to let you out of the booth.

“Scooch,” you urge impatiently, earning a chuckle from him.

“Okay, okay, keep your pants on,” he mumbles humorously as he shimmies out of the linoleum seat.

You go to stand, staggering just a little bit, forgetful of the slight alcohol in your system, but Steve’s hands are on your hips immediately to steady you.

Almost as if this was his plan all along.

He shoots you a quick smirk, before turning back to the table confidently.

He leans in a little and holds his hand up to his mouth, as if he’s about to tell them a secret.

“Someone’s had a few too many,” he whispers teasingly, still loud enough for you to hear, and you smack his arm for good measure. “She might need some help finding the little girl’s room.” He grabs your hips once again, leading you towards the back. You’re barely tipsy, slightly annoyed by his teasing, over-protective air, and you easily walk to the back yourself, the obvious irritation in your features making Steve chuckle lowly in your ear.

The dimly lit hallway leading to the bathrooms was always surprisingly empty, and Steve never failed to press you up against the wall before you can make it to the bathroom door.

His leg slats between your thighs, his hands resting perfectly in the dips in your sides.

“What?” he asks, smirking cockily at your annoyed look.

“How do you always get away with it?” you grumble, picking at the sleeve hugging his bicep.

“Get away with what?” he asks lightly, innocently, as if he hasn’t orchestrated this whole thing every week for the last few months ever since you two started dating.

“You always manage to get me back here…” you mumble, slowly working your fingers down to rub at the skin of his forearm, watching playfully as goosebumps rise in your wake.

He’s kissing at the edge of your jaw now, right near your ear, and his hands are expertly fussing with the hem of your shirt, his thumbs slipping under to feel your heated skin.

“Thought you had to pee?” he mumbles next to your ear, he can practically feel your breath hitch in the back of your throat when his hand sneaks under your shirt, right over your navel. His hands are infinitely hotter than your skin, burning, wanting, searching.

God, how can he be so fucking hot all the damn time?

Your arms come up to wrap around his shoulders, fingers fussing with the hairs at the nape of his neck. You lower your body down just a little, just enough that his knee is pressed up against the zipper of your jeans just right. A light sigh leaves you at the contact and he notices immediately, grinding his knee into you just a bit, just enough that you know he’s aware of the game your playing. “You know I don’t really have to pee, Steve.” You whisper it into his neck, light and breezy. Coy.

A little groan slips past his lips when you tug at his hair. He just about loses it right there.

He has to kiss you. Now. He needs to feel your lips on his or he might die right then and there.

He pulls his lips from your jawline, shifting up to kiss you, but you tug him back a little by the hair, taking control.

“How… do you get… away with it?” Your question is broken with little breathes, your gaze flickering to his swollen lips. You’re just teasing him now. Cruelly. But he deserves it. He can’t just expect to whisper obscenities in your hair, in front of your friends no less, and have no repercussions for his actions. You can play with fire a little bit. If that’s how he wanted to act.

He was needy now. He got this pathetic little look on his face when things didn’t go his way and you found it precious.

“What d’you mean?” He was still trying to act innocent.

“Tell me you didn’t have this planned from the start of the night.” He was leaning in again for a kiss, but you pull him back, still waiting on an answer. You chuckle at how desperate he looks, at how easy it is to turn the tables on him.

“Have what planned?”

A smile ghosts over your lips. “Taking me back here. Dragging me back to this dirty bar hallway and fucking me right here.”

His pupils blow wide at that, at watching those words leave your lips. He’s so unbelievably gone in this moment, so under your spell it’s unbelievable.

His hand snakes up your shirt a bit farther, feeling the lacy hem at the underside of your bra. He would do just about anything you told him to at this moment if it meant he could kiss you.

“Alright, alright, sure, yeah.” He leans in again eagerly.

“Ah ah ah-” you tut, keeping him away just a bit longer. He was just so fun to play with when he got like this. “Say it. Tell me. Say the words.”

His hands creep up a little higher, cupping one of your boobs over your bra and he just about cums right then and there at the outline of his hand under your shirt.

“I- I wanted this all night. I wanted to work you up and drag you back here and fuck you, alright? Not necessarily in the hallway, I was thinking the bathroom or the car or somethi-”

He’s cut off by your lips and he swears he’s never tasted anything so addicting in his whole life. You taste like your shared beer and a little bit of spices from your forgotten drink from earlier and a hint of mint from your gum before you guys arrived at the bar.

When your lips meet, Steve groans so loud. Too loud. “We’re about to get caught” loud. You tug him back just enough to pry his needy lips from yours, but he’s immediately hunching over you, sucking at your neck and your collarbones and pawing at you from under your top. You try to direct him towards the bathroom, but he’s truthful too wrapped up in the feel and smell and taste of you to notice.

“St- Steve! We’re — shit — we’re still in the hallway.”

His hands are around your neck now as he plants kisses up your collarbones, up the center column of your throat, up to your chin to press a chaste kiss, then another on your bottom lip. Then finally a hungry kiss on the mouth, his tongue fighting for a taste of you.

The kiss distracts you for a moment, your arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him in tighter as you tug at the strands at the back of his head, messing up his perfected locks.

You can feel him shuffling you towards the bathroom door, when suddenly one of his hands leave your neck to pushes the door open behind you, his lips never leaving yours. It was skillful, really.

He definitely has this all down to a science.

Before you can register the change of scenery, he’s spinning you around and pressing your back into the door, nudging his knee up against your center and swiping his thumbs under your eyes as he kisses you hard. His eyes are scrunched up and you can practically taste the desperation in the kiss.

“I— Really… Need to be— god — Inside you. Like, right now.” He can barely talk through kissing you, but somehow he manages, pulling his leg from between yours, and taking a half step back to work at his belt. His fingers are a jumbled mess as he tugs at it, and you eventually swoop in to help him, pulling at the strap and shimmying the prongs out from the belt holes as he works on the button of your own jeans. You both work quickly, you undoing his zipper as he starts working your jeans over your hips and down your thighs.

He keeps making sure to kiss you, all breathless as he switches between pressing his lips to yours and telling you how pretty you look, until he finally works one of your legs out of your pants, the material gathering around one of your ankles. You push his jeans down to his calves and look up at him with a giddy expression, which he mirrors immediately.

“Y’ready?” He asks breathlessly, squeezing your hip a little, reassuringly.

You grin at him, pulling him in for a quick, smiley kiss. “Been waiting all night, lover boy.”

He chuckles at the sappy nickname as he hoists you up to straddle his waist, pressing your back into the bathroom door to prevent anyone from strolling in.

Your legs curl around his hips as your arms wrap around his shoulders and cross at the back of his neck. You gaze down at him all smarmy as he tugs his boxers down and shifts your panties to the side, just enough so he can get inside you. But he peaks up at you one more time before going any further, pressing a little kiss to the corner of your mouth - the highest spot he can reach from below you - before he’s looking back down and lining himself up with your entrance.

The tip catches at your clit and you wince, your hands gripping at his hair in anticipation. Your head falls back and your eyes clamp shut when you feel his dick prodding at your entrance.

“Y’good?” he asks, voice clearly strained.

“God,” you look down at him desperately, hoping to urge him on. “Yes, Steve, please, just fuck me already.”

And then he’s sinking you onto his cock, your open mouth coming right to his nose as he kisses at your jaw once again. He groans so loud when he puts it in, like he’s been waiting all night to fuck you, and a whimper leaves him when you instinctively tighten around him. You’ll never get used to the stretch, especially from this angle, and he just lets you sit there for a second to adjust, before he’s gripping at your hips and raising you off his dick, watching your pussy as he leaves you, only to sink back into you again.

You can’t do anything but whine as he spears you open, clutching at his neck and his shoulders and his hair, just looking for purchase, just looking for anything to stabilize yourself. He leans against you, pressing you harder into the bathroom door, and in turn, thrusting his dick even deeper into you, your moans bouncing around the ceramic bathroom walls.

He’s babbling into your neck now, simultaneously trying to keep you quiet and tell you how good you feel.

“Sh sh sh, baby, please. Gotta be quiet— Shhhh… God, you feel so fucking good. So, so, so, so tight. Fuck, you’re so tight like this- shit… Jesus, she’s just gripping me n won’t let go, huh? Baby, baby, hey, hey, please, quiet. Quiet, m’kay?”

He thrusts into you, pressing you so tight against the wall, and you just about see stars, your eyes rolling back into your head and your voice cracking when he reaches that little spot inside of you. He knows he found it when your legs start to shake just a little where they’re wrapped around him. His hands squeeze the underside of your thighs as he keeps pulling out halfway, pushing into you, then pushing just a bit further. You yell every time he bottoms out, and you honestly forget where you are for a moment. Forget your name. Forget everything except the feeling of his dick stretching you in that deliciously painful way.

You’re clawing at his back now, desperately needy for him.

“Pl- Please, Stevie,” you’re barely stringing syllables together into his ear. “Please please please harder. Faster, Stevie, please. More, I- I need more.”

“‘Kay, okay,” he always sounds so demeaning when he’s still inside you. “I got you, okay, sweetheart? I got you, I’ll give you what you want.”

And then he’s fucking you. Hard. So hard. Pulling out all the way only to push into you to the hilt, lifting your hips just a bit, only to slam you back down on his cock. And he’s relentless, ruthless. He’s built up a rhythm and you can barely hold onto him. You feel like you’re slipping out of his arms, but even on your fucked out state, you know he’ll never drop you. Eventually your mind just shuts off, surrendering your body to him as he fucks you within an inch of your life against the filthy bathroom door.

You’re just about there now, babbling about how badly you need to cum and how you don’t want him to stop, please God don’t stop, you’re right there…

When you hear banging on the door, feel the vibration against your back.

Steve stops, groaning angrily, before cupping his palm over your open mouth roughly.

“It’s occupied!” he yells beside you. “Christ—”

You freeze just a bit, brain only partially on, before he’s fucking up into you again, shoving his middle and ring fingers into your mouth to suck on.

“You almost there? Huh?” He’s looking up at you so seriously now, watching your lips as they wrap around his digits. All you can do is nod deliriously, bring one of your hands to grab at his shoulder and the other hand to grab at the wrist of the hand that’s in your mouth. You try to mumble, to tell him that you’re right there, that you’re gonna cum soon, so so soon, but he can feel your pussy tightening. He doesn’t really need to hear the words when you’re gripping him so fucking tight.

“Kay, honey,” he pulls his fingers from your mouth, gathering your spit between the digits. He shimmies his hand down between you, seeking out the little button, before pressing his sticky wet fingers against your clit. You let out a long, messy whine when he starts swiping at the little bundle of nerves, and you’re immediately grabbing at his neck and his arms, trying to pepper kisses all over his face, teetering on the edge. He chuckles and the vibration alone nearly sends you reeling, but it’s his words that finally do you in.

“Alright, hon. C’mon, I need it. Cum for me, baby. Cum real pretty for me.”

And then you’re clenching down on him so tight, he can barely pull out of you. The squeeze alone sends him into his own orgasm, as his fingers start circulating all sloppy and messy against your clit. His hips thrusting out of rhythm and his knees buckling just a bit from the feel of it all. God, your orgasms are really intense in this position.

You’re both moaning so loud, babbling each other’s names, not a care in the world about the inevitable line on the other side of the door.

You’re both cumming for a good minute or two, the aftershocks shooting through you and making you kiss at his cheeks all sloppily and needily. He loved how submissive you got after.

For a moment, you’re both just gripping onto each other, Steve pressing his full weight into you, and you holding his head in your arms, both of you pulling in heaving, wracking breathes, just trying to come down from your high.

You can feel him shaking a little, then you can hear his laugh, his chuckle of disbelief at what just happened. It’s infectious and you can’t help but laugh yourself, your head falling back against the bathroom door as reality slowly starts to set back in.

He looks up at you, and you swear you can see hearts in his eyes. He’s a complete mess, his hair wild and his cheeks flushed and his lips kiss-swollen and his pupils blown wide. But you swear it’s the prettiest you’ve ever seen him, and you can’t help but pet his hair away and gaze down at him all lovesick.

His words are broken up as he catches his breath. “I. Can’t believe. I got away with it. Again.”

You shove his head playfully to the side and laugh at his cocky grin.

“Let me down,” you chuckle at him as he slowly lowers you.

Your legs shake and wobble a bit, and you guys can’t help but laugh at the craziness of it all. He scoops you up to help you, setting you down on the counter of the sink. He wets a paper towel or two, cleaning you up as much as he can, before cleaning himself and pulling up his boxers and his jeans. He helps you with your own pants, maneuvering your legs back into place and shimmying the material back up your hips. His deft fingers close your zipper and button your pants back up, giving you a quick kiss on the tip of your nose and giving your thigh a light, reassuring squeeze, before he does his own zipper and button, followed by his belt. He can’t stop peaking up at you all smiley and happy, and you giggle at this sappy man in front of you who quite literally fucked you into oblivion not three minutes ago.

When he finally finishes, he fixes you a look. You can’t help but chuckle at his rumpled appearance as you tug him in closer by the loops of his jeans, slotting him between your thighs. He looks so helplessly love-struck as he looks down at you. So painfully infatuated as he lets you fuss with his hair, futilely trying to fix the mess you made. He reaches up to rub his thumb under your eye longingly and you give him a sweet smile in return.

His attention turns to your hair now, a bit messy in the back from rubbing against the bathroom door, and he runs his fingers over it the best he can, trying to make you look presentable. He fixes your shirt next, trying to smooth out all the wrinkles in the material, and you do the same to his poor, crumpled polo.

No matter how hard you try, it’s always so painfully obvious why you were away from the table for so long.

You watch as he fixes a little smudge in your lipstick and brushes your hair behind your ear. He hums a little at your tired expression, rubbing little circles into your thigh, before stepping back half a step, his warmth immediately missed.

“Ready?” he asks gently, fully wiling to spend another few moments in this post-sex haze with you.

But you just nod, hopping down off the sink, legs still a bit wobbly. You take a step towards him, craning your neck for a kiss, which he happily relinquishes, before he’s opening the door for you and helping you stagger back to the table.

Contemptuous eyes stare you both down for the rest of the night, but you don’t really mind with Steve’s arm wrapped around you and that pesky soreness between your thighs.

They’re just jealous.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut

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runningupthatvecna · 1 year

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the law of seat partners

alrighty so ya gurl had a dream about eddie last night and here i am trying to use that to base the following something off of.

part 2

cw/tw: eddie munson being a slightly touchy precious bean. a slight bit of angst. feeling left out/mentions of feeling unwanted if you squint. otherwise, none that i could think of, just my silly brain fluff. if you find something else, please let me know yaaa. no mentions of y/n.

summary: you're going on a high school field trip with your friends. and thankfully, a long haired metalhead is also there to keep you company and ease the pain of being around obnoxious children.

side note: this is literally the first fic thing i've written in literal YEARS (also in English) and first ever time writing for Eddie, so bare with me here, i've gotten quite rusty i guess so i truly apologise if it's rather bad. don't mind me and please reblog/leave me comments if you did enjoy this pure fluff something!

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It was the sunniest May morning the town of Hawkins had ever seen. The bluest sky above the forests and fields, downtown, the infamous trailer park and the parking lot of Hawkins High.

You sighed as you placed your car in parking mode before opening the door and sliding out, just so you could grab your belongings - a rather big bag filled with all sorts of items that you were certain you were going to need for surviving the next week - out from the backseat.

A field trip with students with an age range from bloody twelve to the wise years of nineteen, well, twenty to be specific, was on your agenda in the almost last month of your last year of high school, and thankfully you were not gonna be stuck in some forest next to Lake Superior alone by yourself.

Being forced to exist around screaming twelve year olds who were about to enter puberty was your least favourite part of the whole expedition, which made the presence of your group of best friends so much more valuable.

There was one person whose attendance you'd specifically been hoping for. And yes, of course you and your friends had been talking about the trip months ago so it would be clear who would join in the fun, but with Eddie's tendency to be flaky when it came to decisions like this, one could never be fully sure.

I mean yeah, certainly you were looking forward to spending this week by the lakeside with Steve, Robin, Nancy, Jonathan and the younger kids in freshmen year, but nothing could make the thought of being stuck with a group of middle schoolers and teachers more bearable than being stuck there with the one guy who you - to put it frankly - had a thing for.

You couldn't really say that you were as close with him as you were with Steve or Robin, you never really spent time with him outside of the group hangouts. But that didn't mean that there was any weird distance between the two of you when the lucky occasion of hanging out did come around.

Eddie Munson was a metalhead. Through and through. Tough exterior, soft baby cow personality but could turn stone cold when necessary. When people tried to shame him for being different, for example.

You were also very certain that his love language was touch, based on the times he would throw his arm around you when casually walking you to your next class or the way he would playfully wrestle Dustin or Lucas in the cafeteria during lunch break to show he didn't hate them.

"Oh my god, I'm so glad you're here!"

Max had spotted you in line and apparently didn't feel too much guilt for cutting it just so she could hop on the bus together with you.

You mumbled the same thing back to her, wondering if you were the first or last ones of your party to go through Miss Kelley's check-in.

She greeted the both of you with a toothy smile before she turned her focus onto the sheet with students' names. Your eyes wandered over the rows of seat pairs, and since you had arrived at the parking lot, let's say not late but also not early either, most of them were already filled with loudly chatting kids.

"Hopefully the others saved us a seat", you heard Max say from in front of you. Unlike you, she already had a pre-determined seat buddy. "Oh please, it's obvious that Sinclair kept one for you", you quipped back, silently hoping you could potentially be sitting next to Steve or at least Robin.

And even if Eddie was going to join you, he'd probably be sitting with Chrissy. Or Gareth.

"That might be true, but I'm sure you'll be just fine with where you'll end up."

Max stepped further into the bus after she gave you a wink and a slight grin.

Did she know more than you?

Good boy Steve was rather easy for you to spot. With that amount of hair peeking out above the sea of headrests? No wonder. In fact, most of your friends were already seated further in the back of the one-story bus.

A slight hint of disappointment clouded your brain at the sight of Steve and Robin sharing a seat pair, with Nancy and Jonathan right behind them. Your fear of being the one left out and behind was creeping out from the back of your mind, acting up.

People had always been kind enough to endure you, but no one ever really chose you. Or at least made you feel like you belonged.

Lucas indeed had the seat next to him reserved for Max, to where she continued her strut down the aisle to plop down, while Dustin and Will had agreed to share theirs.

Surprising they made it out of bed this early.

You took a few more steps towards the back of the bus. A wide grinned Erica was seated amongst her friends in the center of the very back row, your eyes scanning the seats until they landed on the wild dark mane of a certain metalhead, who was occupying the pair of seats right behind the stairs down to the back door.

He was practically lying in the window seat. Head resting against the glass, staring out to observe the students who hadn't set foot onto the bus yet. Parents who were lecturing their kids one last time before letting them go.

Was he daydreaming? What could possibly be going on in that pretty head of his?

Your heart jumped and your stomach fluttered when he shifted his gaze to the aisle where you were standing. The widest smile spread over his face at the sight of you, and you hated to admit to yourself that it did not leave you unaffected.

The seat next to him was empty.

It took Eddie a few seconds to remember what his initial plan was. As if something in his brain clicked, as if a bolt of lightning had hit him, he straightened himself and got up.

"Uh hi there. I, uh, kept you a seat if, uh, in case you'd like to sit with me."

Eddie the freak Munson. Had thought of and would be willing to sharing seats for a 10 hour bus ride. With you, of all people?

In the light of the sunlight flooded bus, you could see his cheeks adjusting to the colour of your own. Flushed pink.

And you just couldn't help the wide grin that was pulling at the corners of your mouth.

Now both of you were standing in the aisle facing each other.

"I would love to, Munson."

Quickly you took out the essentials for the journey from your bag: headphones and your walkman, your tape collection that you wouldn't leave the house without, a novel, some water and a tote bag with your carefully selected snacks.

Eddie waited patiently for you to get comfortable, standing there in the aisle in his signature leather jacket and denim dio vest, while leaning against the backrest of his own seat, watching your every move.

Once you swung yourself around into your seat, Eddie plopped down next to you with an equally wide grin plastered across his face while pointing his ringed index finger at the snack bag.

"You know, you're gonna have to share those with me."

You turned your head around to face him, eyebrow raised.

His chocolate brown doe eyes were so so softly looking at you. If you didn't know better they'd melt you on the spot.

"Oh really, do I?"

"Yeah, it's the unspoken yet official law of seat partners, sweetheart."

You chuckled at his silliness and the pet name, the nervousness which you had gotten from the thought of him very obviously thinking of you when it came to the decision of who to sit next to, all gone.

He wanted to be physically close to you.

He wanted to spend that time on the bus around you.

He chose you.

After Steve, Robin and all the others from your group had acknowledged your presence as well with genuine smiles, and the last few kids had found their seats, it was time to leave Hawkins.

The bus hit the highway towards Chicago pretty soon after departure.

Eddie let you sit in the window seat, which eventually led to him conveniently using your shoulder as a pillow. And no, you didn't mind the weight. It was Eddie.

Hell, you were having a hard time keeping yourself from wrapping your arms around him to pull him closer.

"Does this also fall under the law of seat partners?", you asked curiously, placing a hand on Eddie's head and slightly scratching his scalp.

The only thing you got in return was a satisfied, sleepy "mhm" and a squeeze and rub of his warm hand over your thigh, but it was enough for your mind to drift off, wondering which other of Eddie's love languages and further details of his ridiculous seat partner law you'd come to discover on this trip.

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tagged: my beloved ellen @josephfakingquinn <3

#eddie munson #nora writes #oh wow this turned out to be longer than expected #lol #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #stranger things #stranger things fluff #eddie munson fluff #the law of seat partners

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fandsart · 10 months

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To Be Friends

I’ve exaggerated some of Nancy’s negative character traits slightly in this story, but it’s also for the sake of her developing past them.

Robin usually sits alone, as sad as that is. It’s whatever; she’s comfortable with it. She can usually get some reading done without any interruptions. But it’s the first day back at school since they took down Vecna, and she’s pleasantly surprised when Nancy sits across from her. They smile at each other, a little stiff without a common goal they’re trying to work for.

“You packed a lunch today,” Nancy states awkwardly.

“Actually Steve made this for me. He always dotes more after, uh… notable events. Sometimes it’s just a particularly bad nightmare. One time Dustin popped a bike tire and Steve bought him a helmet after it was fixed. He gets spikes in paranoia when he’s reminded how easily things can go wrong.”

“That does sound like him. You should try dating him.”

Robin’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Is that a real suggestion?”

“Oh! No, I just mean that he doted on me all the time when he was dating me.”

“Yeah, he’s a real sap.”

There’s a lull in the conversation before Nancy speaks up again. “It is surprising you aren’t a couple. You’re both very attractive.”

“Uh… so? I mean, thank you? I mean… I’m not interested. He’s not my type.”

Nancy hums. “Don’t worry. I understand.”

“You… do?”

“I actually have dated Steve. It probably would have been smarter to be friends first. You’re smart that way.”

“... Thank you?”

“Yeah. I mean, I’m sure you’re well aware of the bullet you dodged.”

Robin chuckles uncomfortably. “Maybe? I guess that depends on what exactly you’re referring to.”

“You said yourself he tends to dote. It’s so much more extreme when he’s dating you. I don’t need to use his jacket for the one minute walk from the school to the car. I don’t need him opening doors for me. I can do that myself.”

“Uh-huh…” Robin says, trying to keep her eyes from squinting.

“And he gets so clingy. And emotional. I swear sometimes it was more like he wanted me to be his mom than his girlfriend, which is honestly so privileged. He cut off his friends for me, so it became my job to comfort him about it?”

“He was friends with them for a long time, and he didn’t have anyone else to talk to about it. He’d kind of just cut off all his other friends,” she tries to joke.

“They were assholes,” Nancy says, maintaining seriousness. “He shouldn’t have been so caught up on them.”

“If he didn’t realize just how shitty they were until you, then he must have had a lot of good experiences with them too. A lot to be conflicted about.” She knows this is the case, because Steve’s talked to her about it too.

“He shouldn’t have been friends with them in the first place.”

“So why did you date Steve for so long? Like a year, right? If he was such a shitty boyfriend? You shouldn’t have been dating in the first place?”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“Because Steve was popular. Everyone loves him, but the only other person I thought might want me was too preoccupied to look at me. I waited a month with nothing. Can you really blame me for wanting to feel wanted and liked after my best friend died?”

“No, but I can blame you for using that as your excuse while apparently hating anything he did because he wanted and liked you. You literally started your complaints about how doting he can be.”

“What, like you don’t think it’s annoying?” And Robin knows what she means by that, but ‘annoying’ would never be the word she would use to describe it. Just… overwhelming sometimes. But understandable. “Besides, that was more of a pet peeve. You were the one who brought that up. There’s a reason I moved my complaints to him crying over his positive choices.”

And that startles Robin a bit. “He actually cried over it?”

Nancy rolls her eyes. “It was a hyperbolic idiom. But my point remains. Everyone loves him, but he was just upset that those two assholes didn’t anymore.”

“If everyone loves him why did no one turn up?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You say everyone loves him like he could have anyone, but you were all he had after Tommy and Carol immediately turned on him for pushing back one time.”

“You know what, that’s another thing. Why even be upset that someone who was willing to turn on you that quickly, did?”

“Well under that logic Steve should hate you then, shouldn’t he?”

“Oh, is that what this is about? Fine, go shoot your shot. I’m sure he’d love to have you. But don’t come crawling to me when he becomes too much for you.” With that she gets up from the table and sits at a newly vacant table.

Robin’s never ditched school before, but now she wants nothing more than to bike over to family video and hug her favorite person.

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

She manages to talk herself out of skipping. She only had 2 and a half hours of school left after lunch, and none of the classes left were her best. Steve would take his break to pick her up anyway, so why put in the effort to bike all of the way there? Still, she has such a hard time concentrating on the last classes.

When she finally gets out, Steve is already parked in his usual spot, and she plops down into the seat.

“Bad day?” Steve asks.

“You know how you were hoping we could have some kind of outing with Nancy and Jonathan before the latter has to go back to California?”

“Yeah?”

“Scratch that. We’re not doing it.”

“What happened?”

She hesitates. She doesn’t want to be the one to tell him, but she also isn’t going to keep this from him. “Nancy told me that she didn’t like dating you, basically.”

“Oh, yeah, I know that.”

“And what, you're just ok with hanging out with her now?”

“I mean, it’s not her fault. She tried to like it. It’s not her fault she didn’t.”

“But it is her fault for not telling you how she felt about it. Let you think everything was fine. That’s leading you on.”

Steve shrugs. “It’s not like she was trying to do that. And it’s not like hanging out with her now would involve any kind of hope that we’d get back together. She didn’t like me as a boyfriend, but we can still be friends.”

“How do you know she likes you as a friend? If she lied to you about liking you as a boyfriend.”

“We should get to work before my break is up,” he says, putting the car into gear.

They don’t talk about it after that. They don’t talk much at all for the rest of the day.

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

Robin doesn’t eat lunch in the cafeteria after that, not wanting to deal with Nancy again. She doesn’t necessarily know that Nancy would try to start up that conversation again, but even just seeing her in the hall sours her mood a bit, so she doesn’t need to be dealing with that.

So she’s sitting in an empty classroom eating lunch when Nancy finds her.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

Robin glares. “Is this not mutually beneficial?”

Nancy sighs. “Look,” she starts as she sits in the seat beside Robin, “I’m not great at taking criticism. I’m a very defensive person. I’m not good at admitting when I’m wrong, but… I was, so…”

“So…” Robin prompts.

“So you were right. I just… needed to sit on all the points for a while before I could calm down enough to actually consider them.”

“Ok. But what are you going to do about it?”

“I’m… apologizing?”

“For what?”

Nancy rolls her eyes, but answers anyway. “For snapping at you, and not listening to what you were trying to tell me.”

“Ok. So what about Steve?”

“What about him?”

“Are you going to apologize to him too?”

“For fighting with you?” She lets out a confused breathy laugh. “I know you guys are close but is that necessary?”

“Are you serious right now?”

Nancy blinks a few times before jolting a little. “Oh! I was too focused on- yeah, I should. It’s just been so long I wasn’t even thinking about it.”

“Do you want to be friends with Steve?”

“What do you mean?”

“He still respects you, and wants to reconnect after… everything. I don’t want you to let him drag you to hang outs because it’s easier than denying a simple request, then blowing up at him about it later. Again. I don’t know if he’d come back from it a second time.”

“I honestly don’t know,” Nancy sighs. “If I want to be friends with him. I feel like… he carries an association… The whole year I was with him I was in mourning, and we only reconnected recently because of, as you worded it, ‘recent events.’ I just… every time I’ve been with him in one way or another… something bad was going on. I feel like being friends with him would just leave me on edge all the time.”

“Make sure he knows that then.” She picks up her now empty lunch tray and moves to leave the room.

“Wait, Robin!”

“Yeah?” she stops by the doorway.

“Can we still be friends?”

“I don’t know… But we can be more than not friends.”

“Yeah… I’d want to be more than ‘not friends’ with Steve too.”

“Make sure he knows.”

“Yeah…”

We never really see how Nancy responds to being wrong, because she’s never written to be. My headcanon for how she responds to it is that she gets really pissed, but after sitting on it for a long time she has a hard time denying when there’s an imbalance. She’s logical enough to know what’s right, but she’s stubborn, and bias towards her own perspective, so things like this do need to get pointed out to her and it takes her a while to come around.

#platonic stobin #stobin #platonic with a capital p #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #steve harrington #anti ronance #fanfic #ficlet #stranger things #fandsart

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abominable-space-they · 1 year

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Ok everyone has me in a punk Steve & Eleven mind set.

This is refining & combining two separate Steve being close with the girls/El au ideas I've had recently

So, what if Steve was the one who found Eleven on that first night, everything would fall out so differently from there

Since he cancelled on Nancy no party with secret government psychic kid on the property, Barb didn't die. When Will got taken, Barb & Nancy both know Jonathan so they get involved through helping & supporting him.

Meanwhile Steve was panicking while actively hiding a mostly nonverbal child. He's almost certain she's been severely neglected at least, probably abused. Bad things have happened to her, he recognized the signs. He'd been that kid. He sees himself in the way she's jumpy, defensive, weirdly naive, in the way she always waits to see what he's doing first, before she says or does anything herself.

He won't to give her back to whomever she ran from, can't bring himself to do that to another kid. His parents were never home so they're not a problem but he doesn't know what the fuck to do about the government.

In a panic he went to the guy he bought his weed from (he knows how to hide from the cops right?)

Eddie Munson

Eddie didn't know what was going on in Hawkins but what he did know was that all these undercover government vans weren't here for a wild animal attack... or him, thank the Deities for small favors.

So when Steve fucking Harrington showed up on his doorstep with a magical child, panic in his and eyes, and no idea what to do next, Eddie was mostly relieved.

Relieved and maybe just a little intrigued

An escaped secret government psychic kid, a totally different missing kid of the same age, a town full of under cover fbi vans(or worse), and these reported animal attacks had to be connected, if Eddie was running this campaign he would never have this much going on at once that wasn't part of a larger connected story. He just couldn't see the whole picture yet. They needed more information & they needed resources

Jonathan & Nancy had been acting super suspicious the last few days. Eddie usually minded his business but under these circumstances, after a brief urgent discussion, they decided it might be wise to just pop in and see what was what. Maybe they knew what the hell was going on. They could all compare notes at least

They took Eddie's van bc he was not gonna be at the mercy of Steve Harrington for transportation. Doing foolish shit like that could get you hate crimed... Plus being the town weed slinger had it's benefits. He knew where everyone lived.

On the way to try and find the other kids to compare those notes, Eleven, who was very quiet but had an eerie way of just knowing things, found the crate he kept ppl's forgotten tapes in, there was a little bit of everything in that crate, a musical lost and found that he couldn't bring himself to discard, even if he personally thought the music was boring

Eleven picked a tape, waving it at them like it had significance.

Well why not?

Steve showed her how to put it in the tape deck. The Runaways crashed into life on his better then average speakers. Eddie expected Steve to complain, but he just listened very very closely, eyes closed like he was straining to hear the lyrics over the heavy guitars.

"you ok Stevie?"

"huh? Yeah yeah, this is just... relatable. I kinda didn't expect it, you know? ... Do you think they'll be able to help?"

There was only one way to find out, they were here. The Byers residence blinked dimly. Eddie thought the cheer was ominous given the circumstances.

Eleven appeared between the seats, brow furrowed.

"we need to hurry, it's coming"

WELL THAT WASN'T TERRIFYING AT ALL-

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dirtyeddietini · 1 year

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fics that have altered my brain chemistry (eddies/joe qs version)

okay so ive been in an adhd brain rot?? where im just fucking HORRIBLE at reblogging fics that i enjoy and honestly it was my whole reasoning behind making this blog FOR GIVING WRITERS THE LOVE THEY DESERVE i just wanted to give a shoutout to these writers (and stories) they’ve made that just fucking messed with my brain (and in a good way okay??) over these last few months. please check them out and give them all the fucking love they deserve

like a poem (FINISHED series, but sometimes if you ask nice enough she will throw a blurb in there) - im so very fucking biased because i love her to the moon and back, but she writes the best fucking stories of joe that will keep you up all night having you rethinking all of your life choices. IT WAS VERY HARD FOR ME to pick out a story that i wanted to highlight in this post, but the whole reason i fell in love with her writing was because of bookstore!joe and he will ALWAYS have a special place in my heart. love you boo

plot: “Joe finds solace in a quaint bookstore, your bookstore, from a hectic situation in the streets. But, you’re closed. But then also, it’s Joseph Quinn.“ from the authors page

echoes (FINISHED, series) - again im so very fucking biased because she is the sweetest person you will have the pleasure of knowing BUT THATS BESIDE THE POINT - she writes so fucking beautifully she will literally have you CRY and this will forever and always be my favourite fic of hers. she deserves all the love she gets, and then even more so read it!!!! (she will make you cry its not on me tho)

plot: “When she laid her emotions out for her best friend, the last thing she expected was for him to turn around, walk away and never speak to her again. Years after, they meet again - different people, different feelings. Or are they?” from the authors page

the hideout (FINISHED, oneshot)- this was one of the first fics i read and fell in love with. it was in that timeperiod where all i could do 24/7 was read eddie munson fanfics and this was one of those fics where i went “holy SHIT??” and honestly i dont think there will ever be a time where this isnt just some % on my mind??

plot: “Eddie Munson made it big. Now, when he returns to Hawkins for a hometown concert with his band, he is reminded of the girl he’s been in love with for the past 6 years when Steve Harrington calls.” from the authors page

vintage reeboks (FINISHED) - this is one of those fics where you’re like???? holy shit i wish i’d come up with that?? i remember reading all of this in one day (summertime, sweating very fucking much) and its just?? holy shit its perfect?? the way eddie is in this??? and its something i could never think of would be this perfect?? i swear i think of this fic at least once a day??

plot: “The gate at the bottom of Lover’s Lake was meant to spit the quartet out in the Upside Down. Steve, Nancy, and Robin were meant to be there. He wasn’t meant to be alone. But when Eddie comes to on the shoreline, you’re there. It’s not the Upside Down. It’s not Lover’s Lake. It’s not 1986.” from the authors page

twenty four hours (STILL GOING) - the way this has me in a chokehold?? im a fucking sucker for when fics have a nice layout??? and this is just so pretty to look at?? like whenever i see its been updated my whole body is SHAKING?? i dont even know what to say?? this is just so amazing and the whole?? will they wont they?? i love them?? i want them both to fight with me all night long??? i CANNOT wait to see where this ends

plot: “in which eddie munson and you absolutely hate each other's guts. what happens when your friends make a bet that you can't spend more than twenty four hours consecutively together?” from the authors page

to know you’re mine (FINISHED) - i saw someone talk about this in the “eddie munson x reader” tag, and DEVOURED the chapters that were up in one whole day?? the way eddie is so fucking soft and nice and the best fucking gentleman in this?? and also?? the relationship to steve in this is amazing??? but THE RELATIONSHIP TO EDDIE IS EVEN MORE AMAZING?? such a fucking fantastic author please go EAT all the chapters right now

plot: “You know the rules. You'd been there when your boyfriend, Steve Harrington, discussed them with the others. There are only two.Number one: Only play when everyone's together. Number two: No finishing inside each other's girls.You'd agreed to these rules, same as Chrissy. Same as Eddie.But then there's rule number three, and though it remains unspoken, it's by far the most important. And you have that feeling again, like when you propped yourself up against the barstool, straining to see him on that stage, craning for a glimpse as his husky voice reached inside you. Now, his dark eyes are doing the same thing: pulling at something buried deep, tugging it into the light where it can't be hidden. And, sure, of course, you didn't intend this. But what are intentions in the face of such things? Needless to say, every rule gets broken.” from the authors page

the customer’s always right (STILL GOING) - hehhehe im a hoe for cutie virgin eddie??? but they way she always manages to capture eddie in her fics?? fucking amazing??? and her writing??? yes PLEASE so do yourself a favor on this fine friday AND READ THIS AMAZING FUCKING SERIES because eddie will make you fall in love in this???

plot: “eddie munson is a virgin and doesn’t want anyone to know (because being an adult who’s never fucked anyone is a total reputation ruiner). but you, his favorite customer, are more than willing to change that.” from the authors page

sincerely yours... (STILL GOING) - like i’ve told her before - her eddie is fucking amazing and so very much to the point!! im so excited for this one and cannot WAIT to see where eddies teasing will make him end up!! the last fucking part of this??? amazing

plot: "Untouchable, is what he called you. Dating Jason, the captain of the basketball tea, most would call you the same. Living your holier than thour life, something else he said, you can’t seem to swallow the need to prove him wrong” from the authors page

burn one (FINISHED) - this is just the perfect fucking combination of smutty and sweet??? like this is just how i imagine eddie and this is so fucking sweet and perfect?? had me thinking about this for WEEKS UGH

plot: "When you move to Hawkins to start over, your new unexpected friendship with your weed dealer next door is your saving grace. It was never your intention to fall in love with him though.” from the authors page

Disjointed (STILL GOING) - this fic has me feeling ALL the feels in all the chapters?? makes me GIGGLE, makes me CRY!!!, i’m in love with all the chapters and i CANNOT WAIT to see them live happily every after

also now that i’ve finished, i’ve just realised this is a lovepoem to my favourite authors on this app heheheh im sorry but i DO love you guys. please do go and read their stories, and send them all the fucking love in the world!! they do have so many amazing stories on their masterlist you will not be able to sleep tonight!!!

authors mentioned in this post THAT YOU NEED TO CHECK OUT!!: @icallhimjoey @ghostinthebackofyourhead @inknopewetrust @storiesbyrhi @ghost-proofbaby @blue-mossbird @lovebugism @plumxwrites @loveshotzz @boomhauer

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fan fic #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn fan fiction

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blakeswritingimagines · 1 year

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How they tell you they love you

Eddie: Well, he doesn't just tell you “I love you”, he feels like he has to show you love. It’s the little gestures and things that really make the difference in telling someone that you really love them. He makes you feel special and makes you feel appreciated. He'll make sure you feel like the only person in the world that matters. Sometimes, all it takes is just one little gesture.

Gareth: He'll do so with his actions rather than his words. He shows you by being there, through thick and thin. He'll comfort you, he'll protect you. And, of course, he never ever gives up on you, no matter what happens. It isn't easy, but true love is never easy.

Steve: He'll look you in the eyes and tell you how much you mean to him, and all the little things you do that he appreciates and how beautiful you are to him. And he'll tell you how glad he is that you're in his life. And won’t stop telling you.

Robin: She loves you without expecting anything back. You are her first thought of the morning and last thought of the evening. You occupy a space in her head, where nothing else can reach. Your voice comforts her, brings her warmth, and your smile makes her heart beat. Love is not just words. It is a feeling where every sense is occupied by that very feeling.

Nancy: She tells you that she loves you by being specific. Tells you what she loves about you, and lets you know why she thinks you are so special. Expresses her love for you through both words and actions. Is vulnerable with you and shows you that you can count on her and that she cares deeply for you.

Jonathan: This simple question requires a rather complex answer. The best way to show love is by being truly vulnerable and honest with the person who he loves. Showing someone that he is willing to let you see his flaws and weaknesses and accepting him for who he is, the ultimate display of love. Additionally, he believes that a key part of showing he loves you is by making you feel safe and comfortable with him.

Argyle: If he thinks that you are the one, then he should be able to tell you how he feels. If he were to tell you that he loves you in detail, he would tell you what you meant to him. Like what you meant in his life. And he would want you to know that he really does love you.

Billy: You want him to get all sappy and poetic? Ok, here's how it's gonna go. He puts you before himself. At all times, in all circumstances. He makes you the center of his universe, and he becomes your world as well. Now, what kind of sappy crap is that? It's all true, though, I mean it. That's what he has to do to love somebody.

Henry: He feels that there is so much to say. So, so many things. That he loves you more than life itself. That he would do anything for you. Anything. He would die for you a thousand times over. That he would live for you. Just to show you how truly special and beautiful you really are, how wonderful you are. How much he cares about you. That he loves you more than anything as deeply as his heart allows.

#eddie munson x reader #gareth emerson x reader #steve harrington x reader #robin buckley x reader #nancy wheeler x reader #jonathan byers x reader #argyle x reader #billy hargrove x reader #henry creel x reader #stranger things hc #stranger things headcanons

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jonathanbiers · 1 year

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Argyle never gets frustrated with Steve when he doesn’t understand something. He doesn’t roll his eyes, or give That Sigh. He explains things patiently, if a bit abstractly, and when Steve is way off base Argyle runs with it. Is Vecna a vampire? Whoa that would be wild, man! Do you think he can’t have garlic? We could just take him out with a gnarly garlic pie, my dude!

the way you're seeing into my mind.... argyle being really soft with steve and taking the time to make sure he doesn't feel stupid when he's confused is something i've considered AT LENGTH (specifically in dms with @himbohohoharringtxn who has the unfortunate luck of being on the receiving end of Most of my argyle thoughts fdjghkdfj)

i would like to preface this by saying that i am firmly in "argyle and steve are both genuinely smart" territory. i think steve is very neurodivergent coded (i see the arguments for adhd/autism/dyslexia/ocd and as someone who might be autistic but is diagnosed with the other three....i see these arguments and i agree on all fronts) and there's also the head trauma of it all, though that's not what this is about. he's not fucking dumb, he just needs things broken down and explained to him in a very specific way. nothing wrong with that!

as far as argyle is concerned - we've literally seen him in action noticing small details no one else has(one of my fav parallels between them), which ends up being the reason the cali group finds nina and el. he's not fucking dumb either, just delivered to us as a comic relief stoner character with little dimension because the duffers need to be fucking stopped

BUT ANYWAY! you're so right! argyle would see the way steve sometimes gets brushed off and spoken over. the rest don't mean it to be hurtful and steve tries not to show that it does sometimes sting (because it's really not that big of a deal to him and it's not like they're being outright mean) but he would ABSOLUTELY "yes and-" whatever steve's off the wall question or idea was, if anything just to make him laugh, relieve some of the tension. AND IT WORKS is the thing.

it's not just, "duuuude, what if we just lure vecna into the sun? he'll be TOAST in five seconds flat, no fighting necessary. nancy, you can put the gun down, we're gonna hurl garlic cloves at him with a slingshot!" in one fell swoop, argyle is 1. making sure steve feels heard and not spoken over; 2. acknowledging steve's input and effort in a way that, let's be honest, the others don't do very often; 3. putting a smile on the group's faces for a while because fuck they're kids in a stressful situation and need a laugh; 4. putting himself in the line of fire so the others can rag on him instead.

argyle would do this when they aren't even dating yet and steve definitely would not be normal about it, he'd be smiling so big and soft and then argyle would catch his eye and smile back and they'd have this little quiet moment between them amidst all the chaos and dread.

after they're dating though? oh, they'd be INSUFFERABLE. they'd be such a pda couple, with the ridiculous pet names("what the fuck did you just call me?" "don't worry about it, my lil sweet potato pie."), and the open flirting until their friends are fake-retching, the whole nine yards. argyle is hanging off of steve's back with his arms around his waist and not even acknowledging it as he makes his argument to the rest of the group that, "no, no, listen. steve is onto something here, i just know. what if-"

and when they're alone, it'd be less of the theatrics and silliness and more of the gentle patience. they're both smart in really different ways and when argyle gets something steve doesn't and steve is getting a little frustrated about it, he'd take his hand or pull him close and just distract him with a little bit of affection to get him to cool down because he knows being frustrated isn't going to help steve figure out whatever it is. conversely, steve does the same when he's trying to explain something to argyle - though he's less likely to get as frustrated when confused, and more likely to pretend to take longer to get it than he actually does because listening to steve explain a subject he's knowledgeable about is fucking hot, can you blame him? they're just soft with each other, okay

#anonymous #just uh casually dumping a bunch of my stargyle thoughts that you didn't even ask for in your original message don't mind me lmao #if i'm honest the reason i haven't been posting many of my thoughts on this pairing is because there have been multiple times when #i've made posts about other pairings (won't say which bc then this'll show up in that tag and it's not about them. i hate when ppl do that)#and like almost immediately or within a day seen people copy my ideas/hcs about them in such a blatantly obvious way that i'm like #'damn if you're going to copy my homework can you at least change the wording my dude or like. cite your sources or smth' lmaooo #so uh. yeah there were also a lot of other things i wanted to mention but i specifically want to include those in fics and i've had enough #of putting my ideas out there as a 'wouldn't it be cool if' only to see a shittier version of it on my dashboard Within The Day so .#also i need you to know i YELLED when i got this ask sorry it took a bit to answer! bad nap brain again lmao coherent sentences are hard #stargyle #steve harrington #argyle

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skyfallslayer · 2 months

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Should We Stay or Should We Go? || Prologue

-A ST Rewrite Feat. Steve Harrington x Henderson!OFC-

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

🎲Summary: On the night of November 6th, 1983, Stephanie Henderson decided to walk her little brother’s friend, Will, back home. However… they never arrive. Now, Dustin, Mike and Lucas, and soon the exception of the girl’s ex-best friend, Steve, must band together to find out what happened. Meanwhile, Steph and Will must fight for their survival in this nightmarish version of Hawkins, Indiana.

🎲Chapter Summary: When they interlocked their pinkies none of them ever expected the weirdness that follows the years after. None of them ever expected to start growing apart. None of them ever expected the red string to stay attached. And none of them ever expected that they would be out saving the world with a baseball bat and wings. Yeah... you can’t make this stuff up.

🎲Pairings: Will x Platonic!OFC; Dustin x Sister!OC; Slow burn! Steve x Henderson!OFC (Ex-bestfriends to Lovers); Slow burn! Byler

🎲Rating: Teen-Mature

🎲Word Count: 921 (Small Introduction)

🎲Date: 3/6/24

🎲Warnings: Angst; Swearing; Implied Broken Friendship

🎲A/N: Extremely small chapter, hence why it's just the prologue. I just wanted to show my readers what the big picture is of this story, which is the Steve x OC relationship. However, just like above, this will contained the loving sibling relationship of Dustin, and even Will, between OC. This story also contains Jopper (a personal fav), Jancy, Mileven and the slow burn of Byler (I got to give this boy some love and if you think Will has been a background character for the last few seasons like I have then don't you worry! I'm giving Will a time for him to shine throughout this fic). Anyway, don't want this paragraph to be longer than the actual chapter. Lol. Enjoy!

Pinky Promise.

It’s a bond between two people, a vow that’s taken so it shall not be broken. Childish, you know, but to a small kid it means everything. When they locked their pinkies together, muttering their promises to one another, they both had barely turned five, barely ready to take on the world head first.

But a promise was a promise— Yet a pinky promise was so much more. It holds so much more weight than crossing your heart or giving a handshake.

At least it was to these two very best friends…

“Wow.” The blue eyed girl said, genuinely surprised (She can’t even believe their conversation is so calming in a situation like this). “That explains so much. And… you never mentioned that to me before?”

“Well, can you blame me?” He asked, with a small smile and laugh. “I think it kinda does. I think, like, right out of the gate, like, I’m super confident. But I’m also, like, an idiot. Which is just…” He shrugs. “I mean, it’s a brutal combination. But, I mean, the good news is, I get a big enough thump on my head, I can change, you know? I can learn. I can crawl forward.”

She noticed his pace was slowing, and his brown eyes of his were becoming distant. “Steve?”

“Listen–” He stops them both, face looking like a lost puppy now. “I guess what I’m trying to say in a really stupid, roundabout way is, um… is thank you.”

She tilts her head, confused. “Thank you?” She watches him nod, adding fuel to her emotion. “For...?”

His face softens. “For giving my head the biggest thump of its life two years ago.” He chuckles. “Nancy, you know, she gave me the push, but you, Stephanie, gave me the thump I needed. It’s changed my life. And now I’m crawling forward in a way I never thought I could achieve. Slowly.”

And now he’s frowning, looking down at himself, engulfing himself in the glum. “I just wonder sometimes... you know, if... if I had just opened my eyes before I met Nancy, would things have been different? Like… part of me thinks we would’ve made it without our relationship falling apart.”

“Steve–” She croaks, teary eyed and shocked.

“And… you know what the craziest… most messed up part of the story is?”

“What?”

His lips curled up just a bit. “Remember the dream I told you about? About the Winnebago? Seeing the country with my six lil’ nuggets? It’s all true. Every last word. But… the mess up part?” He swallows, also getting emotional. “The mess up part is when I first thought of that dream… is that… you’re there. You’ve always been there.”

“Steve–”

“And that…” He smiles. “That’s my pinky promise to you, Miss Stephanie Henderson.”

The creature shrieked above, its claws waving around frantically –trying to get a nick out of him– as he held it back with some piping. He watched the pupils go all ‘cat-like’, fangs coming out that he swears were growing with each scream.

He was struggling, he knows this, and he knows he has to buy the kid some time to get a radio signal out to his girlfriend, but he was slipping, fuck it. However, he knows deep in his heart he can’t back down from this.

His jaw clenched and his eyes flash with determination. “I don’t care what you’ve become! I ain’t leaving you, Henderson!” He shouted, hoping his words would get through to her. “That’s a pinky promise.”

“I’m helping you and Dustin out.” He insisted, knowing damn well that she didn’t even want him near her brother, let alone near herself.

She sends him a look, skeptical, on edge. “Why?”

“Look, I know you don’t want to talk–”

“Damn, right.”

“Steph.” He says, stepping in front of her way to get her attention. “We’ll just put this on the backburner. Right now, and I mean it, I just want to help you and Dustin, keep you guys safe. Pinky Promise.”

“Steve–”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He says, while playing with his hands, nervously, worriedly. “Not until I know you’re okay.”

She frowns apologetically. “You know that might be a while.”

“I know.”

“I have Dustin and my mom, you don’t have to stay here.”

“I know.” He breaks eye contact. “But what if I want to?”

That made her chuckle. “Well… if you want to.” She says, making them both smile. “Fine sleeping in a chair?”

He nods. “If that’s what I’ll have to do.” He replies, making her hum.

She raises an eyebrow. “Is that a pinky promise?”

“Yeah.” His expression grows. “Pinky promise.”

But what if you break it? The promise? What if you don’t follow through? That is the unfortunate part of this story. The promise was to stay together forever, to make their friendship last a lifetime. For them, they were two peas in a pod, polar opposites that still attached themselves to one another… until they couldn’t.

When the boy decided to become a King, the girl became a peasant. The boy was showered with love and affection, and the girl was on a quest of loneliness that became bitter.

This was a story about Steve Harrington and Stephanie Henderson.

A story, where no matter what happens, the red string still stays attached to their pinkies despite their attempts to take it off.

This was story where the two of them decided to save the world–

Their families–

Their friends–

And their friendship.

(TBC)

A/N: I was so surprised when everyone was asking to be added in just a few short days. Makes me really happy :D

-Taglist is Open-

@ladygrey03 @poppet05 @tooearlyforthis @lovesfics @lordzzz

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c-is-for-circinate · 9 months

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I would love to hear more mike wheeler - Steve Harrington masculinity thoughts (also whatever happened to Hopper to make him action guy my beloathed)! Also will we get a mike chapter for and they were married?

Okay yes! I am fascinated by Mike and Steve as narrative contrasts, and I always find myself looking for fic where the two of them meaningfully interact, and I keep meaning to write about them.

(Also: Mike deserves his own chapter of that fic, but he's getting folded into Dustin's. What Mike really deserves is his own fic that takes place in that universe, because I know what his deal is there and it's a doozy, but that is a very different post.)

Anyway! For starters, I don't think that Steve and Mike are intentionally meant to be foils. There's an element of it in the first season, where Steve exists to support Nancy's character, and Nancy and Mike are meant to be foils -- Steve is the Popular Kid, the antithesis of Mike and his friends' little group of nerds, he and Tommy and Carol are written into the same category as Troy but older and less actively murderous, and the fact that Nancy's dating him says things about her -- but they end up occupying oddly similar spaces and cool parallels come out of that anyway.

A core thing about it is that Steve and Mike are both the guy in their respective age group casts on the show. The Guy. The central one, the normal one, the presumed-to-be-straight one -- and yes, this is fandom and we have Opinions about that, but the Duffer brothers think they're both straight, and that matters here. They're white, they're able-bodied, they have money. They are, in a sense, normal.

Narratively, they very often act as central/POV character for scenes they're in, at least once Steve gets past the fistfight in S1 and awakens to the fact that he's a person who can make decisions. And that makes sense, because being The Guy also means they're the closest to the classic TV protagonist archetype, the guy who does the hero shit and gets the girl in the end. Hopper is also The Guy, and always has been: in S1 it's just him and Joyce, but even as we add more adults, the only real challenge to his The Guy status is Bob (which is of course why Bob had to die). Murray is a bizarre conspiracy nut, and queer-coded besides that. Owens is an affable bad guy. Alexei and Dmitri and Yuri are all Russian.

Being The Guy comes with a certain amount of baggage. All three of them have to be romantic leads, and have to be crossed in love about it. All three of them are protectors in one way or another. And all three of them are on occasion assholes who have one hell of a time with sincerity and affection.

And this is where we get into Toxic Masculinity, because again, while I don't think the Duffers intended a pile of parallels between these three guys, well. Firstly, The Guy as an archetype is built on a pile of toxic masculine stereotypes, so that's often there to begin with. Secondly, it's the same writers, so certain themes rhyme whether they're intended to or not.

In particular, one of the core tenets of toxic masculinity, not just in ST but as a thing in the world, is when and where it's acceptable to experience soft emotions of affection, care, and vulnerability. The first rule of toxic masculinity is don't. The second rule, the caveat rule, is a little asterisk saying 'except, occasionally, with a female romantic partner, if you absolutely must.'

And so we actually see a lot of unfolding of this in Steve! One thing we know about Steve, without precisely being told, is that he's deeply lonely -- for a popular kid he sure seems to only have two Actual Friends when the show starts and they hardly seem to even like each other. He has a new Favorite Person every season, and he clings to them with the joy of a devoted golden retriever. His mental image of happily-ever-after is a house full of kids with enough siblings to never get lonely, family vacations about close quarters and spending time together. We never see his parents. For all a lot of the 'horrible abuse' fanon is very much fanon, Steve is inarguably a lonely kid. And where do we see him reaching out for affection?

It's not Tommy and Carol, although until they break up he's constantly in their company unless he's alone with Nancy. They hardly even seem to like each other very much, and yet they've stayed at his empty house enough for Tommy to know about his mother's fireplace and Steve to insist he do laundry while he's here. No, the person who Steve is allowed to feel things with and for is Nancy, because she's the caveat, she's the exception. This is why Steve is consistently focused on getting Nancy back, getting a new girlfriend, getting a date. That's the rule!!!

The really fabulous thing about Steve's arc across the first three seasons, and even into S4, is that this quest for romantic affection and vulnerability is both thwarted and rewarded again and again. He tries to apologize to Nancy, to win her back: by the time he sees her again, Nancy's got a new boyfriend, but Steve has a new brother. Dustin is Steve's favorite person by the start of S3; he gets Steve's haircare secrets, he gets Steve's loyalty, he gets Steve's joy. In S3, Steve tries to pour his whole heart into a different girlfriend, and Robin turns him down flat while also simultaneously opening herself up with such vulnerability that they instantly become best friends. Robin is S4's Favorite Person, but the great thing about these relationships being platonic is that Steve gets to have more than one! He gets to have both Dustin and Robin in his life! He gets the other kids as part of the package! Bit by bit, instead of a girlfriend who Steve is "allowed" to be soft with, Steve gains actual friends who he gets to be real with whether it's allowed or not.

And the really tragic thing about Mike Wheeler is that he's doing the opposite. Mike starts out with three friends, three best friends, absolutely devoted to one another. As kids, they're young enough to be free of most of the stranglehold of toxic masculinity yet, although of course it's starting. And then there's El.

Mike charts a really interesting course over four seasons, and the shape of it is not a straight trajectory from 'Mike adores and is BFF with Will' to 'Mike thinks only about El.' Hell, from what we see of S1, the Party are all best friends pretty equally before Will goes missing -- Lucas is the one ready to break into a government lab for him, not Mike. Mike's trajectory is far more 'I derive the bulk of my personal self-worth from protecting other people, and as soon as somebody needs to be saved I go fully into Paladin Mode, making me feel worthwhile and important." It just so happens that the two people in Mike's field of vision who most generally need protection and saving are Will and El. Which leads to Mike's intense Will-focused devotion in S2 (El is gone but Will is also in really significant need, and Mike just straight-up activates, jumping immediately into solicitously taking care of his friend because Something Needs Doing And I Can Do It). And Mike's intense El-focused devotion in S4, where El needs a literal quest to come and rescue her. And just a lot of Mike in general.

The problem with all of that is the part where, unlike Steve who keeps forging new platonic relationships, Mike keeps neglecting his more and more. The S3 Will fight is so good at illustrating that, because look -- we all know Will has a crush on Mike, but at no point during that fight does Will ask, even subtextually, for romantic attention. He's asking for platonic attention, which Mike is absolutely failing to give. "Where's Dustin right now? You don't know, and you don't even care." But as Mike says, they're not kids any more -- and this is how growing up is supposed to work!

(Note: I don't want to say that it's toxic for Mike to be in love with El, or really caught up in that relationship -- he's fourteen! she's his first girlfriend! he thought she was dead! But Mike's an asshole in S3 because he's caught up enough to not notice his friend's feelings until they explode at him, and yeah, I do think part of that is because he knows he's Not Supposed To.)

S4 is a lot, because here's where we're really seeing the culmination of a lot of what Mike's been unfortunately moving towards. We've hit a point where those vulnerable feelings that Mike's allowed to share, at most, with his girlfriend, feel like too much to even share with his girlfriend. He can't say 'I love you'. He can't even talk to Will. The conversation he does have with Will is honestly mostly about Mike and his feelings of inadequacy, of not measuring up, not being special, but it has to be couched in the context of El. If there's a reverse-Bechdel test to be done on S4, past the very first episode I'm pretty sure Mike fails it -- I don't think he has a single conversation that isn't about his girlfriend in one capacity or another.

In contrast, S4 Steve is, yes, pretty focused on girls-in-general and Nancy-in-specific, and yeah, there's a little bit of backsliding going on there. But he's also having conversations with Robin about her fears and longings, having weird little interludes where Eddie's the one bringing up Nancy rather than Steve himself. He's hurt at the end when Nancy is clearly still with Jonathan, but he's able to move on, to go fold clothes and care about Robin's love life instead of his own -- his optimistic happy ending in S4 is that his best friend is going to get the girl, not him.

I think there's a lot more to say, which I only brushed on briefly here, about other aspects of Mike and Steve that work in parallel or contrast -- their protector thing, which feels very intrinsic but shows up very differently in both of them, the way Steve says 'I love you' so easily and Mike has trouble saying it at all, the way they are both very much extremely normal guys, at least on paper. There's so much to say. I think that has to be a different post.

I will say, in terms of Hopper: Jim Hopper is what it looks like when those pent-up feelings that you aren't allowed to express to anybody other than a romantic partner sit and fester for decades. Fuck, there were things about Vietnam he didn't even tell his wife, that sat like poison both emotional and biological between them. When we meet him in S1, he's processing grief with drugs and drinking and processing fear with rage. He has spent so much of the past four seasons processing fear as rage.

Of course Joyce is the one person he's allowed to, sometimes, on occasion, be soft with. Of course nearly his every interaction with Mike is macho dominance posturing. Of course the entire trajectory of his relationship with El is a push-pull of Hopper retreating into authoritarianism and anger instead of the terror of honesty, and then getting to see the consequences of that when his daughter pulls away. Every season has broken him down a little more that way, but then the yo-yo pulls back (Season 3 whyyyyyyyyy). By Season 4, he's been beaten and starved and frozen and shattered enough that we get maybe the most honest monologue of his life, to a Russian prison guard, because they're about to die so what do the rules matter any more. It's a clear window into an endless pit of self-loathing, because for twenty or thirty years Hopper's been letting those feelings eat in instead of out, and bit by bit they've been devouring him.

El is hope, for him, and Joyce is hope, and the cracks that broke open in Kamchatka to maybe let in a little more air that might not seal right back up again are hope. But it's hard. It's hard! It makes him an absolute asshole, including and especially towards the people he wants most to protect. (And there's that protector thing again.)

Anyway, I am on the record as liking Steve a lot and having very little patience for Mike and Hopper, but like. They're not that different, at their core. They just put the pieces together in a different order.

#stranger things #driveby meta attack #asked and answered #shit this is really making me want to write those D&D class breakdowns I keep promising #maybe I'll get to one or two of those this weekend #mike wheeler #steve harrington #jim hopper #at least a bit

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