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munson-blurbs · 1 year

Note

Hello! Could I possibly request something with a lovesick Eddie trying to win over the reader? He’s watched and studied rom-coms with Dustin to get his plan in action doing the basics of walking her to class, carrying her books, complimenting her, etc. but it typically ends with him inadvertently embarrassing himself. Super fluffy ending though!

This is adorable and I loved writing it <3

Warnings: angst-to-fluff, some language, spoilers for 80s movies

WC: 2.4k

Divider credit: @firefly-graphics

“You coming to Hellfire today?” Eddie asks you, munching on a pretzel. You weren’t an official member, but you like sitting in and watching campaigns, sometimes secretly helping the freshmen defeat their sadistic Dungeon Master.

You shake your head. “Sorry, Eds,” you shrug apologetically, “Robin, Nancy, and I are gonna catch a movie.”

His eyes widen and he grins excitedly. “Oh, shit! Which one? Eliminators?”

The prospect of the three of you watching an over-the-top sci-fi movie–without Eddie or Dustin nagging you–sends you into a fit of laughter. “Uh, no,” you manage between giggles. “We’re seeing Pretty in Pink.”

Eddie wrinkles his nose. “Isn’t that, like, a chick flick?”

“Yes, and we are chicks,” you say slowly, enunciating each word like it’s a novel concept for him. “Why, did you wanna join?”

Eddie would watch paint dry if it meant spending time with you, but he doesn’t say that. Instead, he rolls his eyes. “Not a chance,” he scoffs. “You girls enjoy your Molly Ringworm.”

“It’s Ringwald, dingus,” you retort, borrowing Robin’s favorite insult for the occasion. “And we will. It’s nice to pretend that guys can actually care about a girl beyond getting in her pants.”

He’s about to ask you if you lump him into that category when Dustin, Lucas, and Mike plop their trays onto the table. They’re chatting excitedly about the upcoming campaign, a conversation Eddie usually never shuts up about, but the older boy is uncharacteristically quiet.

“Hey, Y/N,” Nancy taps you on the shoulder with a smile. “Robs and I were just about to finalize our plans for tonight, if you wanna sit with us.”

You nod enthusiastically, eager to leave the table now that the topic has switched to which cheerleaders are the easiest. “See you perverts on Monday!” you call out behind you, walking side by side with Nancy.

“Hey, sheep,” Eddie interrupts their riveting conversation suddenly. “Do I give off ‘douchebag’ vibes? Like, ‘only being nice to chicks for sex’ vibes?”

“If you are, it’s not working very well,” Mike snorts, only to have a pretzel lobbed at his head.

Dustin, however, is more perceptive to Eddie’s concerns. “Did something happen with Y/N?” he asks, glancing over at you.

“Don’t stare at her!” Eddie hisses, pressing his fingers over his eyes in exasperation. How do these two have girlfriends and I don’t? he wonders silently. “She mentioned something about liking chick flicks because that’s the only time guys treat girls nicely without trying to sleep with them.”

“Okay, and…?” Mike responds, earning him another pretzel to the head. This one lands in his mop of hair.

“And, what if she thinks that’s the only reason I’m nice to her?”

“To be fair,” Lucas pipes up between bites of pizza, “you do wanna sleep with her.” He quickly joins Mike as one of Eddie’s snack throwing targets. “Dude, you’re not gonna have any pretzels left if you keep chucking them at us!”

“Can someone just answer my question?” Eddie growls, standing up and pacing around the table. “Because if I’m gonna ask her out–”

“Not gonna happen,” Dustin mumbles under his breath. Eddie glares at him. “What? You’ve been saying that you’re gonna ask her out for ages now, but you never do!”

“Well, now I’m not, if she thinks I’m just some creep,” the metalhead grumbles. “I’d have to be one of those corny idiots from those movies for her to take me seriously.”

Dustin slams his hands on the table, startling everyone. “So be one of those corny idiots!” he exclaims. “Do you think I wanna sing The Neverending Story every time I talk to Suzie? No, I do not. But I do it because it makes her feel special and loved.”

“How would I even do that?” Eddie throws his hands up in frustration. “I’ve never watched any of those dumb movies.”

Dustin’s grin spans his entire face. “Oh, don’t you worry, my friend,” he says. “I’ve got a secret weapon.”

Turns out, Dustin’s secret weapon is Steve Harrington. More specifically, using him to check out as many romantic comedies as the boy can carry, completely ignoring the three movie maximum policy.

“Okay,” Dustin begins, pushing his way into Eddie’s trailer. “We’ve got The Breakfast Club, Sixteen Candles, Footloose, Terms of Endearment, and Y/N’s favorite, Grease.” He plops the video cassettes onto the table with a thwack.

“Jesus Christ.” Eddie buries his head in his hands. “What did I get myself into?”

“You can thank me later when you finally have a girlfriend,” Dustin retorts, ignoring his friend’s mild irritation. “Now, where should we start?”

By Monday morning, Eddie’s brain is buzzing with ideas to be the perfect rom-com boyfriend. He waits for you at your locker before first period, leaning up against it as you approach.

“How was your movie night with the girls?” He remembers Dustin’s advice to ask you questions about yourself, rather than launching into another story about his DnD campaigns.

“Good…” You eye him suspiciously. “Is there a reason why you’re blocking me from opening my locker?”

“Oh, shit, sorry,” he sputters, jumping back and smacking into another student passing by. “Son of a–”

You grab your math textbook from the top shelf, rolling your eyes at his antics. “Well, nice talking to you.” You’re not sure what’s gotten into him, but it’s weirding you out.

“Wait!” he calls out, and you turn back around slowly.

“What is it?” you ask crossly, “I’m gonna be late for class.”

Eddie rubs the nape of his neck with his palm, unable to make eye contact with you. “Jus’ wanted to say that you’re pretty…” When you don’t reply within a nanosecond, he starts stumbling over his words. “Pretty nice, and stuff. No, just pretty. You’re pretty. N-not that you’re not nice, b’cause you are; you’re, like, really nice. But you’re also pretty. So, yeah. You’re pretty.”

Your brows furrow in confusion. “Are you okay?” What you really want to ask is, is this some kind of prank?

Eddie nods, fidgeting with the frayed edges of his denim jacket. “Y-yeah, I’m okay. Are you, uh, okay?”

“Mhmmm,” you stretch out your response, backing away. “I’m gonna head to math before I get detention.”

What the hell was that? You wonder incredulously. The only time you’ve ever witnessed him being so tongue-tied was when he was paired with Chrissy Cunningham on a science project. But he was hopelessly in love with her; you were just his best friend. You’d have to ask one of the Hellfire freshmen what was going on. Maybe they’d have some insight.

You don’t get a chance to talk to Dustin, Mike, or Lucas before Eddie’s trying out his next move. He’s at your locker again between third and fourth period, desperate to redeem himself after his flustered performance this morning.

“Lemme walk you to class,” he blurts out.

“Eddie,” you laugh, “we have the same class now. You’d know this if you bothered to show up.”

“Oh. Right.” Actually, he has been showing up, partially because of his determination to graduate, but mostly because you’re there. “Then, can I carry your books for you?” He reaches for your composition book and pencil case before you have the chance to answer, and you pull away from him.

“Are you gonna throw my stuff in the trash or something?” You warily cock your eyebrow.

“No!” He seems genuinely confused and slightly offended at your assumption. “Why would I do that?”

“I dunno,” you shrug. “Why else would you do nice things for me?”

Eddie crosses his arms over his chest. “So that’s what you think of me, huh?” His eyes mist over, so angry that he’s about to cry. “Just another dumb guy who’s either trying to fuck you or fuck you over?”

“What are you talk—“ you start, but he cuts you off.

“Forget it,” he mutters under his breath, walking in the opposite direction. “Told Henderson this was a stupid idea.”

“Where are you going?” you call after him. “Class is the other way.”

“‘M ditching!” Eddie retorts, pulling out a cigarette and lighting in before he even reaches the doors.

You’re sitting in your room, highlighting and writing in the margins of the tattered copy of The Grapes of Wrath you’ve been assigned for English class. You can barely concentrate, though; your mind is consumed with thoughts of Eddie’s string of bizarre behavior.

The compliments, offering to walk you to class, trying to carry your books—what was that all about?

You vaguely remember him mentioning something about Dustin; the two of them were thick as thieves and basically attached at the hip. Eddie was the older brother Dustin never had. If anyone knows what was going on with him, it’s Dustin Henderson.

“Hello?” Dustin’s bored voice comes through the receiver, probably expecting the call to be for his mom.

“Hey, Dustin. It’s Y/N,” you begin nervously. “Do you have a sec to talk about Eddie?”

“Um, yeah,” he replies, caution evident in his tone. “He seemed really upset at lunch today. Did something happen?”

You exhale, a bitter laugh escaping your chest. “That’s what I was calling about. He was being super weird this morning, and then he got mad at me, like, out of nowhere.”

“Weird…how?”

Starting at the beginning, you recall everything that occurred, emphasizing the babbling that was supposed to constitute a compliment and his explosion when you didn’t let him hold your books. “He’s always playing little jokes on me; what was I supposed to think?” you finish.

“Aw, shit,” Dustin muses. “Okay, I wasn’t supposed to say anything, but—“

“Please,” you beg him, “I just need to know what I did wrong.”

“No, it’s not something you did—well, maybe, kinda—but not on purpose,” he explains. “On Friday, when you told him about seeing Pretty in Pink, did you say something about guys in chick flicks being better than actual guys because they want more than just sex?”

“Yeah…” you say, confused. “What does this have to do with Eddie?”

“I’m getting to that part, jeez!” Dustin quips, and you roll your eyes at his attitude. “Well, when you said that, Eddie got all worried that you felt that way about him.”

“Of course I don’t!” you reply incredulously. “He’s…he’s Eddie! I know he would never use me for sex.”

Dustin presses on. “He didn’t realize that. So we watched those stupid movies all weekend, just so he could learn how you want a guy to show interest in you.”

Oh. Oh.

“Because Eddie…” you trail off, your mouth going dry.

“Yeah, the dude’s, like, in love with you.” Dustin spells it out. “He tries to act like nothing bothers him, but he really cares about what you think of him.”

“Shit,” you murmur. “I mean, thanks, Dustin. I’m gonna go fix this.”

“Any time,” he replies, then quickly adds, “don’t tell him I told you, or he’ll give me wedgies for the rest of my life!”

You knock on the Munson trailer door. Wayne’s already left for his night shift at the plant, and you hear the sounds of Eddie’s guitar, so you know he’s home.

“Who is it?” he calls from his room, still strumming.

“It’s me,” you answer, hoping he’ll let you in. “And I come bearing gifts.”

The guitar playing stops, and you breathe a sigh of relief when his heavy footsteps come closer.

“‘S not my birthday,” he narrows his eyes at the treat in your hand.

“I know. I wanted to recreate the ending scene in Sixteen Candles where Jake Ryan goes over to Sam’s house, but a whole cake was too expensive.” You smile warmly at him. “I hope a cupcake will suffice.”

Eddie returns your grin, leaning against the doorframe. “Depends. What flavor is it?”

“Chocolate cake, chocolate frosting.” It’s his favorite; the man has a mean sweet tooth. “Eddie, I’m sorry that I accused you of having some sort of ulterior motive for being nice to me. But when I said that stuff on Friday—about guys using girls—I wasn’t talking about you,” you tell him. “I was thinking about the Jason Carvers of the world, not the Eddie Munsons.”

He takes a big bite of cupcake. “Apology accepted,” he says, mouth still full. He swallows before speaking again. “How did you know that’s why I was upset?”

“Psychic powers,” you tease. “And a certain meddling, curly-haired nerd who just wants you to be happy.”

“Dammit, Henderson!” Eddie groans. “Little shit can never keep a secret—“

You interrupt him, pressing your lips to his chocolate-covered ones. The kiss doesn’t last long because the two of you can’t stop smiling.

“That’s for calling me pretty,” you tell him. “At least, I think that’s what you said; you kinda rambled on there for awhile.”

Now it’s Eddie’s turn to cut you off. “Then let me make it clear,” he says softly, running his thumb over your jawline. “Pretty, pretty, pretty. Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” He places a kiss on your forehead, and you feel yourself melt.

“No more trying to be some corny movie character,” you instruct him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “I like you just as you are, Eddie Munson.”

He laughs. “Got it, boss.” He twitches his nose. “Actually, there’s one more thing I wanted to do.” When you look at him quizzically, he continues. “You know that part in The Breakfast Club, where Bender gives Claire his earring?”

“Yeah?”

“Well,” Eddie says shyly, “I don’t have an earring, but I do have this.” He pulls his thin black ring off of his finger and holds it up. “Prob’ly be too big on you, but maybe you could wear it on a chain? And you could be my girlfriend, if you want?”

You press on your tiptoes, pecking another kiss on his lips. “Yes, Eds. To both questions.”

He throws his fist in the air á la Judd Nelson as he kisses you back, making you cackle with laughter.

“I can’t believe you actually watched that movie,” you tease.

He shakes his head, as though he can’t believe it himself. “‘S all right,” he says. “You can make it up to me by seeing Eliminators on our first date.”

“Oh, absolutely not.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #eddie stranger things #stranger things #requests

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writtenfromhawkins · 2 years

Text

hoax.

ship: steve harrington x fem!reader.

summary: when his father lets him know his presence is expected at a company dinner party, steve blurts out he’d be taking his girlfriend. the problem? he’s very single. now stuck in a lie, he goes to you for help.

word count: 2.7k.

warnings: lots of pining, some curse words, mentions of migraines, steve’s dad sucks.

authors note: cliché, but i am simply a slut for the fake dating trope.

part two

let’s fall in love for the night.

“Are you fucking insane?”

“Come on sweetheart,” he begs, reaching over the counter to grab ahold of your hands, his gaze never faltering. “I can’t go alone.”

“You could,” you point out, wiggling out of his grasp, “if you just told the truth. “

"I’m already the loser son with a dead-end job.” Steve waves his arms around, motioning to the racks of videos in the dingy store as if to say see? “I can’t be the loser son with a dead-end job and no date.”

And just like that you falter, any arguments—and you have many—die before they can leave your lips. You hate that your good, kind, funny, absolutely incredible friend felt like anything but. You’d never verbalize it but you despised his father for being the only one capable of bringing that side out of him, turning him from the man you admired into the needy, desperate-for-acceptance and attention boy you barely remembered from high school.

“If I go...”

It’s a hypothetical, not a real answer but still, your words inflate him. He stands up straight, shoulders back, handsome features pulling into a grin.

“Steve...”

Before you can react, he’s up and sliding his long body across the counter. “Oh, sweetheart,” he coos, coming to a stop in front of you. Big hands reach out, grabbing ahold of each side of your face to pull you close and press a kiss to your forehead. “You are an angel, a goddess really, heaven sent.”

If his praise warms you, his lips set you on fire, just enough to make your brain go fuzzy and have you ready to agree to whatever he wants but you stop yourself, doing your best to hold on to some semblance of self-control.

This is your friend, one of your closest, and one you maybe have some confusing feelings towards. You don’t like-like him, no way. But, yeah, your heart would beat just a little faster when you saw him and, sure, when he’d touch you—God, was he affectionate—sometimes you’d get butterflies. He was also your ultimate confidant, the one you could complain to about your parents or rant to about your latest shit date. He was a safe place, a non-judgmental ear, someone you could always rely on. Again, confusing.

You worry the ruse he was suggesting would run the risk of crossing a metaphorical line, something you may not be able to come back from.

“Steve,” you say again, hoping to grab his attention, “Stevie, that wasn’t a yes.” His smile falls and you resist the urge to backtrack. “I was trying to ask what we’d be doing. Like... if I agree, what am I actually agreeing to?”

Just like that, he perks up again because you are considering it. That’s progress and he’s grateful; you were the only person he felt comfortable enough asking. Robin would just laugh at him, he could hear it now—like anyone would believe that, dingus, she’d say before bursting into giggles. Nancy was complicated, came along with too much baggage and too many hurt feelings. But you? With your kind eyes and warm demeanor, he felt like he could go to you for anything.

“It’ll be an easy night, I promise,” Steve assures you, desperate for you to believe him. “I’ll make up some excuse so we can just meet my parents there. We won’t even have to deal with them that long. Really. I’d just need you to tolerate them for dinner and, uh, you know... act like you like me.” He throws it out there like it’s nothing, like the thought of that doesn’t make him feel some type of way. “You can wear a pretty dress and get a nice meal out of it. And, I swear, I’ll owe you big time.”

You’re quiet, pretending to consider the proposition—as if you could ever say no to him. “Can we get ice cream after?”

With no warning, he’s reaching out for you again, pulling you into an embrace. “Whatever you want.” He means it too.

—

When Steve shows up at your door a week later, you can barely contain your relief when you see officially that you two match. Well enough anyway. Getting outfit details out of the man had been akin to getting teeth pulled—long and painful.

“What’re you wearing?” You’d asked one night, phone cradled between your ear and shoulder, cord fully extended as you dug through your closet.

“Uh... jeans and a t-shirt?” His answer had come out like a question.

“What?” You’d laughed. “Not right now, Steve. I meant for the dinner.”

“Oh!” You couldn’t see it, but he slapped his forehead, face flushed. “Right, yeah. Duh. It’s supposed to be fancy so like... a suit and tie.”

“Color?”

“Black.”

“Black,” you’d repeated.

“Is that bad?” Steve’s voice betrayed him, he sounded panicked.

“No, no!” You were quick to reassure him. “That’s classic. What color shirt?”

“Blue.”

You paused, waiting for further details that don’t come. “What kind of blue?”

Steve scoffed. “What do you mean what kind of blue? Blue is blue.”

“It’s really not,” you pointed out, arms crossing. “Is it dark or light?”

“Why does this even matter?” He didn’t mean to be short with you. Really, he didn’t. But anything involving his dad was enough to set him on edge. An already short fuse combined with genuine confusion didn’t make for the moment peasant conversation.

“So we can match. We’re supposed to look like a couple, right?” You chose to ignore his tone for the sake of keeping the peace.

Like a couple. “Oh,” he breathed. “Right, sorry. It’s dark.”

You’re about to ask if he meant more midnight blue or something a tad lighter but you stop yourself. No point, you could make that work.

And you did. The little number you’d picked out was navy, slinky, and fell to mid-thigh. With enough skin exposed to keep it interesting but just conservative enough to satisfy the stuffy businessmen you’d surely encounter.

“Hey,” you greet him, leaning against the door frame. You try to stop yourself but your eyes travel, taking in the perfectly coiffed hair, the broad shoulders, and the snug slacks. He cleaned up well.

The one imperfection—if you could even consider it that—is the loose tie hanging around his neck. He catches your gaze and lets out a dejected sigh. “Couldn’t get the damn thing tied and didn’t wanna ask my dad. Do you think...?” He trails off, sheepish.

You soften at the admission, happy to help with whatever he needed. “Of course,” you answer, stepping aside. “Come in. I gotta grab my purse anyway.”

He steps cautiously inside, taking the opportunity while you were busy to fully appreciate your attire. “I shoulda said it as soon you opened the door but you look incredible.” You were always beautiful, that was something he realized ages ago, but to see you dolled up for him was something new, something he thought he could get used to. “I’m gonna have the prettiest fake date there.”

You can’t help it, you preen at his praise. You were doing this for him, after all. You wanted him to be pleased, to think you looked nice. With your back to him, you’re able to hide just how much an effect those words have on you as you grab your back from an end table and slip the strap up your bare shoulder.

“Alright,” you say as you approach him, coming to a stop right in front of him, the toe of your heels just barely touching his Oxfords.

Almost hesitantly you reach out, hands taking hold of each end of the tie. It’s pretty, you decide. Navy with light blue and white flowers. You’re rusty but still, with minimal fumbling, you’re able to get a passable Windsor done. Carefully you tighten the knot, knuckles grazing his Adam's apple before your hands lower, smoothing the fabric down his chest to his sternum.

You hope he can’t tell your hands are shaking, he hopes you can’t feel how fast his heart is beating.

Satisfied, you take a step back, eyeing your work. “Looks pretty good to me.”

He nods in agreement. “S’perfect, sweetheart. Thank you.” A silence falls over you for a moment, it’s comfortable and nice, but Steve has to break it. “Ready to go?”

When you give the affirmative, he offers you his arm. You take it and soon he’s leading you out of your house to his BMW, opening the passenger side and getting you safely in the car before rushing around the other side, joining you.

—

When you pull up outside the banquet hall, Steve is quiet. Tentatively you glance over at him. Both hands are gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles are white, his shoulders tense, jaw clenched. You want to ask if he’s okay but before you can, he’s looking back at you, smiling although it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Let’s do this.” He doesn’t sound excited.

Steve is out of the car and making his way to your door before you even have your seatbelt undone. You thank him when he opens it, pulling the hem of your dress from where it’d ridden up on your thighs. His eyes follow your movements.

“Before we go in there, I just want you to know we can leave anytime, okay?” You’re doing him a favor, a major one, and he doesn’t want you uncomfortable, doesn’t want you in a bad situation just for his benefit.

You almost laugh, figuring that he’s being just a little dramatic but you refrain. “It’s just dinner, Steve. I promise I’ll be okay.”

He wants to point out you’ve never actually met either of his parents, making you woefully unprepared for what the night would entail. He wants to warn you, to protect you, but then you’re taking his hand in yours and any concern is forgotten.

—

That’s how you walked into the event: fingers interlaced, whispering to each other and Steve despised himself for how much he was enjoying it. You were his friend—strictly platonic. It should have felt weird or uncomfortable, but it didn’t. On the contrary, it felt nice, natural and he was hoping his parents wouldn’t see him, that he could keep the night just the two of you.

Those hopes are quickly dashed when his father, from across the fucking room, bellows out his name, waving. Steve can tell right then and there he’d been drinking and all he wants to do is turn you around and take you home but instead, he leads you right into the lion’s den.

He regrets it but it’s too late. “Mom, dad, this is...”

He doesn’t even get the chance to introduce you. His mother is squealing your name—he’s surprised she even remembers it—and is wrapping you in an embrace. It’s stiff, incredibly insincere and you don’t like it, but you smile anyway.

When she dropped her arms, you step back so you’re pressed tightly against Steve, his hand finding the small of your back. “Mr. and Mrs. Harrington, it’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“Oh,” his father breathes, “it’s nice to meet you too. We didn’t even think you existed, isn’t that right, honey?”

Wide-eyed, Mrs. Harrington almost looks apologetic. “We’ve just never seen you around the house.”

Steve grits his teeth, the irony in the comment not going unnoticed. They were never home enough to know what he had going on.

“More like we didn’t think a girlfriend could fit his ice cream shop budget.” He says it like it’s supposed to be funny. No one laughs.

“I don’t work at Scoops anymore, dad.” Steve sounds contrite when he reminds his father, but the older man simply waves him off.

You tug on Steve’s suit jacket, stopping him before he can say anything else. “Well, you have nothing to worry about, I’ve never been treated better. You really raised a perfect gentleman, you should be proud.” And they should. They ended up with an incredible son even if they did little to form him into the man he was now.

“I guess he was bound to inherit something from me.” Yeah, right. “So, what do you do? Steve said something about college?”

“Well, I bartend part-time at The Hideout.” You say it like either of the elder Harringtons would have heard of the shithole but they’re definitely not your usual clientele. “It’s a little bar on the other side of town. But yeah, I’m in school right now. I’m majoring in Early Childhood Education at Purdue.”

He whistles like he’s impressed. “A teacher, huh? An actual career.” He’s talking to you but he’s looking at Steve,

Your eyes narrow and you open your mouth, desperate to put him in his place, but Steve speaks before you get the chance. “Yup,” he agrees, “she’s brilliant. All future little gremlins are very lucky.”

You’re tense, frustrated by Steve’s father and the way he jumps at any opportunity to cut Steve down, but you allow yourself to be temporarily distracted. You could tell he meant what he was saying and it meant a lot to you.

“Oh, babe,” you turned to look at Steve, practically beaming at him. You catch the way he flushes at the pet name—a bold move for you, something you normally didn’t use but, hey, you were trying to sell it. “Thank you.” You turn your gaze back to his parents. “He’s so supportive.”

“He should be,” Mr. Harrington pipes up. “If he’s not gonna have a real job—”

Okay, that was enough.

“Hey—”

“Sweetheart,” Steve interjects, already knowing what is coming, “is your head feeling any better?”

You blink, totally caught off guard. What the hell was he talking about?

“Oh?” says Mrs. Harrington. “Are you not feeling well?”

“She gets these awful migraines,” Steve answers for you, just blatantly lying now. “Had one all day today.” He tsks as his hand moves from your back to your temple, fingers massaging soothing circles into the flesh. “I tried to get her to stay home but she was so excited to meet you guys. Nothing could have kept her away.”

“That’s so nice.” Her tone doesn’t suggest she actually thinks of it as nice, but she still presses a hand to her chest, feigning sincerity. “We couldn’t wait to meet you either, not after the way Steve talked about you.” The boy in question bristles at the comment, silently begging his mother not to reveal what he had actually said. “But if you’re unwell, you should really get some rest.”

“You are so right, mom,” Steve agrees readily, arm moving to wrap around your shoulder. “I know you’re disappointed, baby, but we should go.”

“Oh,” you say, back of your hand rising to rest against your forehead, “I guess you’re right.” You’re eager to go now, but do your best to sound reluctant, sad. “I’m so sorry we can’t stay for dinner.”

The goodbyes are brief and hurried, you have to resist the urge to run out the door, only fully relaxing once you and Steve are safely outside. “God, Steve,” you sigh, shaking your head. “They’re really awful.”

He can’t help it, he laughs. “I really should have warned you, huh?”

“Your father, I just...” You trail off, unable to even put it into words.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. You were great in there, by the way.” He would be forever in your debt, you saved him from monumental embarrassment. “It’s still kinda early, I think I can get us in at Enzo’s. You know, if you want.”

Your nose scrunches up and you shake your head. “Let’s just go get ice cream.”

“No way,” he protests. “You need actual food.” A lecture you’d received from Steve more times than you could count. He was always making sure you ate, that you were hydrated, that you slept well.

It was nice to be looked after but that was not what you were after now.

“You said anything I want...”

How could he argue with his own words?

“I guess I did, huh? Let’s get you that ice cream then, pretty girl. You definitely earned it.”

Maybe tomorrow after the soft touches, the pet names and the kind words things would be awkward. Maybe your concerns were valid and a line had actually been crossed, maybe things would be different. But that was a problem for another day.

For now, you were keen to sit with your friend in your fancy clothes, hip-to-hip enjoying two scoops of mint chocolate chip.

—

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you

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steddieas-shegoes · 13 days

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if you want to use me, i could be your puppet

for @subeddieweek day four with the prompt edging

rated e | 2,505 words | please check ao3 for tags

Day one: ao3 | tumblr Day two: ao3 | tumblr Day three: ao3 | tumblr

⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕

Eddie didn’t think this through.

Running from Steve’s bedroom, naked, meant he would have to find a hiding place.

He did not want to have to deal with this right now.

He didn’t need Steve seeing the way Eddie’s feelings would no doubt show on his face, how he’d be quick to brush off Steve’s apology.

How quickly he’d agree to continuing what they’re doing so he had something rather than nothing at all.

The house was quiet, dark, a reminder of how lonely Steve probably was when he wasn’t busy with the kids or Robin or him. No wonder he was always so quick to jump in bed with Eddie; He wanted a warm body to keep him company.

“Eddie! Wait!” Steve’s voice came from the top of the stairs, but Eddie didn’t turn.

Maybe if he locked himself in the downstairs bathroom, Steve would give up and he could sneak out to his van wrapped in a towel or something. He’d done worse.

Unfortunately, Steve was much faster than him, probably due to the whole jock thing. Eddie had no chance.

Steve’s hand burned where it touched Eddie’s arm, trying to make him turn around and face him.

“Please, Eds. Please look at me. Let me-”

“I don’t want you to explain, Steve.” Eddie turned to him, suddenly angry. How dare he ruin what they were doing? How dare he take something that was so precious and send it careening off the road so quickly? “I want to pretend it never happened. I want to go back to letting you touch me and kiss me and hurt me just right. I want to know you don’t mean it.”

“Why?” Steve sounded angry. “Why would you want that? Is it that bad? What is it about me loving someone that makes them wanna run in any other fucking direction than to me?”

And Eddie wasn’t really prepared for that.

He didn’t really know exactly what happened with Nancy or any of the other girls Steve had been with in high school. He didn’t really know much about any of his casual hookups. He just knew that Steve gave so much to anyone he cared about, and many people took more than was fair of him to give.

“Why can’t I love you, Eddie?”

Eddie looked at Steve, really looked at him.

His eyes were watery, red-rimmed as if he was doing everything he could to resist letting the tears fall. Eddie could see his flush cheeks, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to hold back a sob. His hands shook.

Eddie recognized this for what it actually was. Sure it was emotion, and maybe Steve felt it was genuine emotional turmoil.

But it was also the start of a panic attack, one that would quickly escalate to something Eddie wasn’t sure he could help Steve through.

“Steve, hey-”

“Don’t fuckin’ pacify me, man.” Steve’s breathing picked up and Eddie had to shut this down. “I can be upset.”

“Yes, you absolutely can. I’m not gonna tell you how to feel, but you definitely need to breathe, nice and slow.” Eddie put his hand on Steve’s bare chest, forgetting for a moment that they were both still naked, both still sweaty and sticky from everything they did in Steve’s bed.

“I am breathing.”

“You’re panting. You need to sit down.”

“I’m not sitting down-”

“Red.”

Steve froze.

Eddie immediately regretted saying it, hated that he was using this in a situation outside of their agreement.

He just needed Steve to stop and take care of himself for a second.

“That’s not fair,” Steve’s voice was shaky, unsure. He’d never heard it like that, not even when they first started this, not when they discussed the difficult things.

“It may not be fair, but neither is what you said.” Eddie looked behind him at the couch, the same couch Steve had held his hand while they talked about what they’d be into trying together. “Can we sit?”

“I dunno, are you gonna run again?” Steve crossed his arms over his chest, which would be a hilarious image any other time, but was currently just really sad.

“No. I’m not gonna leave.”

“Yet.”

“Yet,” Eddie agreed.

They both sat down on the couch, shifting until there was enough distance not to touch, facing each other.

Steve threw the blanket over their laps to at least make an attempt at being serious.

“I’m sorry I said it like that.” Steve sighed as he put his head back against the couch. At least he seemed to be holding himself together better now. Maybe Eddie could have a turn at a breakdown. “I shouldn’t have said it when we were still…”

“You shouldn’t have said it at all, Steve.” Eddie watched as Steve ground his teeth together. “I know you may think that’s what you’re feeling, but you were on a sex high.”

“I can see why you’d think that,” Steve sounded like he was doing his best to stay calm. “That’s why I shouldn’t have said it then. But I did mean it. That hasn’t changed and it won’t change.”

“Steve, be serious.”

“I am! I need you to be serious! I love you. I’ve loved you for long enough to know that’s what it is.” Steve turned his head and gave him a sad smile. “I know it wasn’t supposed to happen, and I know you don’t feel the same, but I’m glad I said it, even if it wasn’t how I planned to.”

Eddie had to remind himself to breathe as Steve’s words sank into his brain, consumed his chest and stomach, made the nerves in his body spark with a combination of hope and fear.

“How long?” Eddie squeaked out.

“You remember that night when we talked about our limits?” Steve grinned.

“That was…so long ago. What the hell?” Eddie slapped Steve’s knee, but didn’t pull it away fast enough. Steve’s hand grabbed his. “We’ve been around each other almost every day since then.”

“And I thought about it every day,” Steve admitted. “I was gonna ask you on a date first and make it a big romantic thing. I had a plan.”

“Steve, I-” Eddie shook his head. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to say these things to me to keep me around. I mean, it’s not like anyone’s lining up at my door. I wouldn’t trust anyone the way I trust you with all this. I kinda figured you’d be the one to call it off soon.”

Steve moved the blanket for a moment, tugged Eddie into his lap, and tilted his head to the side.

“I’m not going anywhere, Eds. You’ve got me and I’ve got you.”

How did he do that? How did he sound so sincere, so charming, after such an emotional admission?

“You’ve got me?”

“I’ve got you,” Steve surged forward, lips crashing against Eddie’s as his hands left bruises on his hips.

Eddie would be an idiot to let him go.

He would have to trust that Steve meant it, and he’d have to trust that his heart would be safe in Steve’s hands.

He already trusted him with everything else.

The blanket that had barely been around his waist slipped, half pooling on the couch next to them and half falling to the floor.

Steve pulled away, breathless.

“Will you?” He asked.

Eddie had no idea what he was actually asking. “Will I…?”

“Go on a date with me.”

“Yeah, Stevie. I’ll go on a date with you. You’re buying, though,” Eddie winked.

“Of course,” Steve nodded, leaning up to peck him on the lips. “I was thinking about a road trip. Heard there’s a new record shop opening in Bloomington if you wanted to check it out.”

“Fuck, you really do love me, don’t you? You know I could spend hours in there, right?” Eddie’s heart couldn’t handle the soft look in Steve’s eyes.

“Yeah, I’ll bring a cooler with drinks and snacks. It’ll be fun,” Steve shrugged.

Eddie inched back the tiniest bit and was suddenly reminded that they were very naked. And Steve was getting hard again.

“You know…this house is kinda quiet. Maybe we could…”

“Oh, you wanna be loud?” Steve raised his brow. “Hm. I guess I should give you a reason to be.”

The tone was different, not quite his usual teasing demand, but something that left Eddie wanting.

“Please. God, Steve, I need it, need you,” Eddie had no idea where this begging came from, or why he suddenly felt like he would die without Steve’s hands on him.

“I know what you need, baby,” Steve kissed his jaw, soft for what Eddie knew was coming. “But I need you to tell me your color first.”

“Green, so green.”

“Hey.” There was the demanding tone. “Look at me.”

Eddie had no choice but to look.

“I need you to think about it. Don’t think about how desperate you are. Are you okay with everything we talked about? Are you okay with me loving you?”

Eddie thought about it. Was he actually okay with their short conversation, the feelings Steve admitted to, what that would mean going forward for them? Or was he desperate in more ways than one?

No, no he definitely was okay with this. He’d been so worried that his feelings would never be returned, that he’d be in an endless loop of unrequited love, that he’d do what Steve did and let it slip while he was in space.

Having the guy he loved love him back was a best case scenario for him.

“Green.”

Steve’s lips were back on his, hungry, rough, almost more than Eddie was prepared for, but it wasn’t unwelcome. He sunk into the feeling, let himself drift into Steve physically so he could carry him away mentally.

“Wanna get my fingers in you. Think you can handle just spit?” Steve said as he nipped at Eddie’s neck, leaving red, leaving teeth marks. Eddie wished they could be permanent. Maybe he’d get them tattooed.

“Mhm, please,” Eddie nodded, ignoring the tiny part of his brain that was telling him to be responsible and get the lube. He’d be sore if they didn’t.

The louder part of his brain didn’t care about that, wanted to be sore. He could feel good now and deal with the limp tomorrow.

Steve’s fingers ghosted over Eddie’s lips, pressing down until his mouth opened. He sucked them in, three of them, moaning around them as he made sure they were slick enough to get inside with little resistance.

They were both impatient.

Steve pulled his fingers from Eddie’s mouth only a few seconds later, gently patting his cheek with his other hand when he whined at the loss.

“You’ll have me inside you again, baby.”

Steve didn’t waste another second.

His wet fingers rubbed against Eddie’s entrance, fingertips teasing along his rim and just barely pushing inside one at a time.

It was too much, not nearly enough, and almost exactly what Eddie needed all at once.

He was so close already, teetering on the edge of coming without a hand on him or fingers actually inside him, and it would probably be embarrassing if Eddie could think about a single thing that wasn’t the way heat was pooling in his stomach and chest.

“Close,” Eddie whimpered, bucking up against nothing as if that was even necessary.

Steve’s hands were gone. Just like that. No warning at all.

Eddie whimpered again, reaching his hands out to touch, to beg, to do whatever would get Steve’s hands back on him and finish the job he started.

“No, baby,” Steve said, shaking his head. “Not yet.”

And so it went.

Steve got a finger inside him, barely thrusting it in and out before removing it completely when Eddie would start rocking back into the touch.

Then there were two fingers, and Eddie could just barely feel the pressure against his prostate, begging for more or less or something that would be different from the current hanging by a thread he was doing.

He could feel himself drifting, knew he was mentally checking out from what was happening, but he could still hear Steve’s rough voice soothing him, guiding him.

Three fingers pressed inside him, slower than before, stretching him in a way he never could himself.

He felt full, used.

“Color, sweet boy,” Steve said from somewhere in front of him. Eddie was having trouble centering himself, couldn’t quite figure out where he was physically even though he knew he was with Steve.

The fingers inside him stilled, not working him open further or pushing and pulling until Eddie was naturally rocking back and forth.

Steve needed an answer. Eddie had to give him one.

“Green.”

“Good boy,” Steve praised.

Eddie pretended that didn’t make his heart flip-flop in his chest, but something must have given him away anyway. Steve was grinning at him knowingly, though he didn’t say anything.

“You’re gonna come when I tell you, right? Not a second earlier than that.”

At this point, Eddie was pretty sure Steve was in complete control of his body. He was simply the puppet on Steve’s strings.

“Answer me, Eddie.” Steve pushed against his prostate, making his body shiver and cock twitch.

“Only when you say,” Eddie gasped out, lifting his hips to pull away from the overstimulation, but immediately falling back down when he missed it. “Wanna be good for you.”

Steve groaned, and his fingers pushed in and out of Eddie faster.

He wanted to be good, but he was only human.

“St-” Eddie moaned. “-eve. Can’t-”

“‘S okay, baby. You can come now.”

And Eddie did.

Just like that.

The relief of finally being able to unclench his thighs, to actually feel the last string tethering him to earth snap as his release painted Steve’s stomach.

His fingers slowed, but didn’t leave him, keeping him stretched as he clenched around them during the waves of pleasure still wringing through him. He felt like he’d never stop feeling this deep pulsing, had to try to open his eyes to see if he was still coming somehow.

Steve was murmuring something against his hair.

When had he even fallen against Steve’s chest, face buried in his neck?

How long had he been just whimpering against him like a dog in heat?

“...So good for me, sweet boy. So proud of you for waiting for permission.”

Oh.

Praise like that wasn’t exactly a new part of their aftercare, but it was rare that Steve said it more than once or twice, usually just holding him in his arms in silence while Eddie came back down from the clouds.

He’d think about that later.

For now, he let his body relax, the noises stop, and his breathing slow.

He could sleep in Steve’s arms, feel the love pouring from his words and fingertips, and plant his feet on the ground in the morning.

Day five: ao3 | tumblr

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #sub eddie week #sub eddie munson #dom steve harrington

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athena-writes-i-guess · 1 year

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I don’t know if you have tiktok but have you seen that trend where girlfriends pretends to be on the phone with a friend and act all dramatic and shocked just to see if their boyfriends want to know the tea? I don’t know why but I feel like Eddie would secretly wanna know

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

A/N: Hello friend! Thank you so much for the request! This was really fun to write! I really hope you like how this came out!

Also, yes I do have a TikTok, I’m on it way too much haha

“So then Jessica walks in on Andy and Tracy in his parents bedroom making out!” Robin said quietly as she sat across from you in the noisy cafeteria of Hawkins High.

“Oh my god, really?” You exclaimed softly, almost missing the small noise of interest that escaped from your boyfriend Eddie as he sat to your right.

“Really! I heard it from Sam who was standing right there when it happened!” She said, a large smile pulling at her lips as the bell rang to signal the end of the lunch break.

You and Robin loved to gossip about the happenings around the school, quietly judging your fellow classmates and the drama they found themselves in. Eddie on the other hand would ask why you cared so much. Who cares about what happened to some jock at some lame party? Not Eddie, or so he tried to make everyone believe. He would even seem to ignore gossip about his friends, like the time Steve got caught having sex with a girl in his car by the sheriff. But you’ve been noticing the small reactions that he’d have when the two of you would start sharing the news you heard. An almost silent gasp here, a quirk of the eyebrow there, a quiet scoff from across the room when you’re on the phone. Little things you took note of that showed you that he really did want to know.

You wanted to catch him in the act, tell a fake story that would be too juicy for him to pass up knowing the details of. You had plans for Eddie to come over to your house after Hellfire tonight and that’s when you’d set your plan in motion.

You were sitting on your bed, facing away from the window, your phone in your lap when you heard the signature sounds of Eddie climbing the side of your house. You picked up the phone receiver, the dial tone ringing in your ear as you made small noises of feigned interest. You had left your window open a crack for him and smiled as you heard him pull it open the rest of the way. You turned your head to look at him as he climbed through and landed clumsily in your room.

“Hey sweetheart!” He chirped happily with an excited smile once he saw you.

“Hey, baby!” You said quietly, placing your hand over the receiver for effect. “I’m talking to Robin, I’ll be off in a minute, pretty boy.” You smiled back, sending him an air kiss as he crossed the room. He pretended to catch the kiss in his hand and press it to his lips, beaming when you giggled. He then flopped himself down on your bed, resting his head in your lap as you leaned against your headboard. His eyes fluttered closed blissfully as you carded your free hand through his hair, relaxing into your touch.

You paused for a moment like you were listening to something through the phone, making small noises of interest as you listened to the dial tone before exclaiming, “Oh my god! Nancy did what?!” You watched Eddie’s eyebrows furrow. “But what happened with her and Jonathan?” You said quickly, trying not to smile when Eddie’s eyes shot open and he turned his head to look at you.

You paused again and then gasped loudly, “With Steve?? Are you serious!?”

Eddie couldn’t stop himself, he needed to know, “What happened?” He whispered, eyes wide with interest. You shushed him, trying not to burst into laughter at his expression and the small huff of annoyance he made.

“Dustin found them doing what?!” You practically yelled after a moment.

Eddie shot up and maneuvered himself onto his knees next to you, gesturing for you to pass the phone to him, whining out a little, “Babe! What’s happening?”

You furrowed your brows and shook your head, pretending to be listening to something on the line. “No fucking way! Jonathan said that to her?!” You exclaimed after a moment.

Eddie couldn’t handle being out of the loop anymore, he desperately needed to know the gossip, so he snatched the phone right out of your hand and brought it to his ear while saying, “What the hell is going on Robin?”

His eyebrows then knitted together in confusion as he was answered with a dial tone and your uncontrollable giggles. “You lying little monster!” He scolded as he narrowed his eyes playfully and tossed the phone in your lap.

“I knew you wanted to hear the gossip! Not such a waste of time after all, huh?” You teased, shooting him a mischievous grin as you put the phone back on your side table.

“I can’t believe you tricked me. How cruel! I’m wounded, sweetheart.” He said dramatically, his hands shooting to his heart as if he was injured as he flung himself backwards on the bed. “The love of my life lying to me! I’ll never recover!”

Your giggles continued to fill the room as he flopped around the bed, shaking your head at his antics. “Oh really? I’m so sorry Eds.” You exclaimed, matching his dramatic tone as you threw yourself onto him. “How can you ever forgive me?” You sent him a pout as you laid on his chest.

Eddie hummed in contemplation before looking at your pouting face, “I’ll forgive you sweetheart, but you owe me…” He thought for a second, “50 kisses. That’s all I'll accept, no less.” He said with faux seriousness, “Oh and a pizza.” He added, not being able to stop his bright smile as you burst into laughter.

The two of you settled down after a moment and Eddie ran his hand through your hair, “So nothing happened with Nancy and Jonathan?” He asked, still curious.

“Not that I know of, I just knew you wouldn’t be able to resist this time. I know you like hearing the gossip.” You teased, poking him playfully in the chest.

Eddie rolled his eyes and scoffed, “They’re our friends! Of course I wanna know!”

“Sure. Sure. Whatever you say, pretty boy.” You grinned.

“Shut up, you menace.” He scolded with a grin of his own. “You better start kissing baby, I’m not gonna kiss myself.” He sighed theatrically.

You beamed and lifted yourself up to hover over his face, pausing to admire your gorgeous boyfriend before beginning to pepper his lips with sweet kisses. Eddie sighed dreamily at the affection as he pulled you closer, neither of you keeping count as you melted into each other.

Taglist: @srapalestina @yvonneeeee @cityofidek @anaisweird @mrslovesmayahawke @harrys-tittie @becca-alexa @catacina

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givemearock · 2 years

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Cuddling with the Stranger Things Older Teens

I’ve been thinking about this for a very long time and decided to write this to revive my tumblr 😭 I will be doing one for the party too :D (also shoutout to all the shifters who see this let this serve as motivation for your adventures)

In order- Robin, Steve, Eddie, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle

Robin

It's very easy for her to get comfortable in any position. You’re elbow stabbing her stomach? She’s fine! You’re laying on her throat? If she can still breathe she’s good!

This is amplified especially if she’s already rambling on about something because she is more focused on not trying to sound stupid in front of you

In between thoughts, she’ll ask if you’re still comfortable or if she needs to move

“You’re still ok right?” “Yeah I’m fine” “Are you sure? Like 100% sure. Because I can move like I’m totally fine with moving, it's really easy.”

Would definitely be more like a base for you to snuggle up to because she moves her hands around to talk a lot

If you were the one sitting up she’d just lean her head against you as she keeps talking

After she’s been talking for a while if she needs a break she’ll just lay there in silence for a few minutes before continuing on

If you fell asleep she would definitely freeze up until you woke up

Overall a comfortable experience and you’d probably get to hear all about whatever she was obsessed with at the moment

Steve

He’d probably be a little hesitant because he’s not incredibly touchy, but since Dustin is he sort of learned to be

Touch starved growing up so he does not know how to accept it

His default would be to just hug you, but he’d move however you moved, trying his best to not make it awkward and to not ‘mess up’ as he’d say

Would fake confidence because he’s dated many girls in the past, but he honestly does not know what he’s doing

If he ever ended up uncomfortable he would ignore it and would deny his discomfort at all costs

“Steve, are you ok?” “Of course! Why do you ask?” “You’re tearing up” “Those are happy tears because I’m so comfortable!”

He’d somehow get you to believe him, either that or you’d have to hide your movement so he doesn’t end up feeling bad

Would get very cuddly and would probably end up sharing his innermost thoughts with you

He’s a weirdly comfortable person like a giant pillow so you’d get sleepy really fast, his hair is also really soft so that’s a plus

If he did fall asleep he’d make sure you did first to make sure you’re ok

10/10 you both end up asleep

Eddie

Always, and I mean always up to cuddle with literally anyone he knows, yes it’s because he’s touch starved but in the opposite way of Steve where he’s very touchy

Would pretend you’re weird for asking but, of course, he’s joking

“You wanna ‘cuddle’ with me?” “Yeah” “That’s so weird wth” “Oh” “I’m kidding, IM KIDDING”

Latches onto you immediately and won’t let go until you let go

He moves around a lot until he gets comfortable and you will probably end up as his pillow whether you like it or not

Makes sure his hair isn’t all over your face because it does that a lot

He wouldn’t ask you if you were ok with him talking a lot he would just give you a look and you’d sort of have to notice

“Eddie?” “Hm?” “Would you like to say something?” “Yes, ok so-“

Would whisper “are you sleeping?” in your ear a little too close and would get really apologetic if he accidentally woke you up

A very fluffy person 10/10 experience

Nancy

She is not a very touchy person at all and would be very reluctant to say yes and would probably resolve with an “ok but only for a few minutes”

However if she was working and you asked she’d absentmindedly say yes without really thinking about what she’s agreed too

At the beginning she’d just sit down and she would be very awkward about everything but after a little while she’d warm up to you

You’d be able to tell when she’s comfortable because she’d stop tensing up and just relax

She would have her eyes closed very tight and she wouldn’t really speak to the point where it’d be a little concerning

“Nancy? Are you ok?” “Yes.” “Are you sure?” “Yes.”

If she falls asleep be prepared to never move again because she goes deadweight pretty much immediately

Since she’s always busy she will more likely than not fall asleep

It takes some getting used to but she’s sweet 10/10

Jonathan

He definitely grew up cuddling with Joyce and Will a lot so I feel like he’d say yes and not think much of it

Very much the type to hold you versus having you hold him because with his family he was always the one doing the holding

He would let you hold him but you’d have to ask

Surprisingly takes up very little space because he sort of just curls up with his knees pressed to his chest to make sure you have enough room to get comfortable

Would sit there in silence but not in an awkward way it’d be a comfortable silence

It’s weird to describe but he has the same vibe as a cold pillow so you might get a little sleepy

If he’s either high or just very comfortable with you about 30 mins in he’d start asking you the most random of questions

“What do you think frogs think of puddles?” “Hm?” “Like, imagine finding a smaller version of your house” “Jonathan-” “Just saying it’d be a little weird”

Eventually he’d up silent again and his hold would get tighter than before as he slowly gets used to you, but he somehow isn’t aware he does this despite doing it every time

Overall you’d feel very secure and comfortable, plus you’d get to hear a wild thought, 10/10

Argyle

Of course he would say yes

Basically a giant teddy bear this man is so cuddly

Would probably just close his eyes and wrap his arms around you before whispering ‘this is nice’ in the most stereotypical way

Makes comments about your clothes if the fabric is uncomfortable or especially if it’s really comfortable

An awkward silence will not happen because if it does he’ll call it out and start a conversation

If he’s high he might try to stand up before apologizing

*he tries to stand up* “Dude I’m still here!” “Oh sorry man totally forgot you were there”

Will randomly start singing just because he likes singing and he does it whenever he’s comfortable around someone

If you guys started talking if something you said reminded him of a story he would immediately change the subject because he needs to get the thought out

“Yeah, I had a frog once and-” “FROGS! That reminds me-”

Would later on apologize for interrupting you

If he somehow ended up uncomfortable he would definitely tell you but he would make sure you didn’t feel bad about it because to him it’s not really a big deal since it’s an easy fix

Overall he’s a very comfortable and chill person, 10/10

I forgot how fun writing stuff was so I think I’m gonna start posting a lot more now. Anyways, I hope you guys like it :)

Have a nice day and night !! 🌸

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bettysupremacy · 2 years

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Sleepless Nights Like These

Steve Harrington x fem! Reader

Summary: When Steve is lonely, and can’t sleep, he thinks about his girl, and everything he loves about her. Though a late night visit from his favorite girl always makes things better.

Warnings: none I think? Like one mention of a strip tease as a joke, one curse word I think, it’s literally just fluff. Overbearing and tooth rotting fluff. Literally sick to my stomach while posting this cause I want it so bad.

1.5k words ☻

Steve’s favorite place to receive her kisses were right under his ear, on the tender malleable skin that always felt oh-so sensitive. He loved how her lips molded into it, the way it sent tingles up his jaw, the way each of the kisses were long and thought out.

He knew she loved them too, but definitely no more than him.

He wished he could take that feeling, preserve it, hold it close to himself on the nights he couldn’t see her. He’d keep it tight in a Mason Jar, in Tupperware, between pages of a book like pressed flowers, if it meant he got to pull it out and have it on nights like these.

His fingers itch to grab his phone.

He loved the way she loved his voice. Talking, singing, whispering. He knew she wished she could record everything he said and replay it back in her Walkman, she’d told him herself.

She’d stare at him with these dopey lovesick eyes when he sang, heart squeezing satisfactorily when he’d lazily look down at her. He wouldn’t normally sing, but when his girl asks for a song, she’s getting a song. They’d lay in bed and she’d feed his ego these big bites he didn’t know if it could swallow.

“Your rasp changed my life.” She’d said, and he believed her.

He loved the nights, like last night, where she’d beg him to drive her outside Hawkins city, to somewhere the blinding streetlights couldn’t reach. She’d show him the constellations she saw through the misty morning air, on her walk to the bus that morning. Steve doesn’t care that he can almost never see them, he’ll let her grab his outstretched arm and guide his pointed index finger where she wants him to look.

“Do you see those dots?”

“Yes.” He’d been lying.

“Those make up Orion’s Belt.”

“Who’s Orion?” He’d pushed. It was his way of begging her to keep talking.

“Orion was a huntsman who-“

He loved the little notes she would slip into his lunch bag. He’d pretend he didn’t see her sneak it in there before she had to leave for school.

“Nancy’s driving me to school today!” She’d yelled by the front doors, and he gave it a moment before he came into the foyer, giving her time to stuff the colored paper into the bag.

They were often no more creative than the greeting cards he’d see at Melvald’s general store, but they were greater by far. He’d make himself wait till lunch to read them, give himself something to look forward to, but he’d be itching to read them all day.

I love you!

Have a good day Stevie!

Don’t get on Robins bad side, I love you!

He’d keep them in his pocket for the rest of the day, thumbing at it. The message staying in the forefront of his brain until he saw her next. He kept them in a spare brown bag up in his closet hiding away, he could never find the strength to throw them into the family video bin.

He wished she were here now, laying in bed with him. Nothing dirty, he needs to clarify. He wants her to push his hair back and to beg him to keep scissors away, to tell him for the millionth time don’t shave the mustache.

He grabs the phone quickly, split decision before he can change his mind, dialing in her number. It rings 3 times before he checks the time. 12:34 blinks at him brightly. Shit, he should’ve-

“Hello?” His girlfriends groggy voice comes from the other side.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you up, sweetheart?”

“Good morning, Stevie.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

He hears the click of her lamp. “Why’re you calling so late?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Could I help?”

“This is helping.” He tells her honestly.

“Could I come over and help in person?”

“You can’t walk here at midnight, because your dickhead boyfriend cant sleep.”

“Don’t call yourself that.” He can hear her shuffling around her room, “We live two houses away from each other.”

He huffs, giving up the small argument — this is what he had wanted. “I’m gonna wait outside for you.”

“You can if you want.”

“I do.”

He hangs up, jogging downstairs quickly so he can be outside before she leaves her house. The cool night air nips at his skin, settling a chill of goosebumps over his arms and thighs. He really should’ve put a shirt on. Or pants.

“Is this strip tease for me?”

He turns, watching her hop down her front porch steps. She giggles at his horrified face.

“We have neighbors!”

She shrugs, pulling her coat closer as she checks the empty street for cars. “The Wilsons are on vacation.”

“And the Clifton’s?”

“On vacation with the Wilson’s.”

Steve gasps, “And we weren’t invited?”

She walks into his outstretched arms, letting him wrap himself around her. “I’d hope not, they’re weird.”

“They are weird.” He agrees.

She leans up on her tip toes, grabbing his jaw in both her hands so she could kiss under his ear. He leans into her touch, gripping her waist tighter as he fights to bottle the feeling, so he can remember it later.

They’ve never talked about it. The ear kisses. It wasn’t something you needed to talk about, something you needed to discuss. They were uniquely them.

His eyes droop sleepily and he stressfully rubs at them, hoping she didn’t see the way his blinking stalled.

“What’re we doing tonight?” He bends down and nips at her jaw.

“Getting you to sleep?”

“The fun way?” He murmurs into the kisses he just worked down her neck.

She draws from his touch, pushing him away, though she can’t hide the giddy smile from his affection. He looks down at her, pulling her closer by her forearms. His smile is saccharine sweet as he watches her abashed nose wrinkle.

“Was it something I said?” He muses, chasing her eyes. When she doesn’t answer Steve, he pokes her sides. “Hm?”

She giggles, peels of them getting lost in the dark night. “Nothing you said.”

“Oh, okay, I was getting worried.”

She shakes her head, bubbly giggles dying down. It’s cold out here, so cold, and Steve is still in his boxers. He pulls her in again, wrapping his arms around her and nosing at the juncture where her neck meets her shoulder. She smells like her chamomile body wash.

“I’m cold.”

“Baby,” She wraps her arms around his back flatter, willing her warmth to transfer to him, “You’re freezing. Lets go get under your covers.”

He takes her up on that offer, chasing her up his stairs and into his room, pulling her close to him and relishing in her whines as he tumbles onto his bed with her. He’d affectionately called it their bed once, and he doesn’t know why he doesn’t do it more often. The way she nuzzled her head in his chest, abashed, had him dizzy for a week.

She struggles against him, whining something that goes in one ear and out the other.

“I need to take off my pants, Steve.”

He drops his arms from around her, enthusiastically helping her up so she can peel off her pants. She laughs at him, pushing his hands away when he tries to help.

“Sicko.”

She climbs into bed with him, pants newly gone. They adjust and settle, getting comfortable for the night. Limbs tangle, breathing settles out, loud unapologetic voices calm to whispers, and eyelids droop. He wraps his arms tighter around her, each movement languid.

“I missed you.” Steve murmurs into the darkness of his room. The calm has settled over them like thick blanket, hushing them and tucking their conjoined bodies into sleep. He half isn’t expecting a response.

“I missed you in my sleep.” Her sleepy voice whispers.

He cracks a smile, closing his eyes as her lips press to his chest. “I wasn’t in your dream?”

“You’re in all my dreams.”

“Oh, okay, just checking.”

Her shoulders shake with a short laugh, like sleep is weighing them down too much for anymore movement.

“I’m so tired.” He murmurs again.

“So sleep.”

He’s too embarrassed to tell her he doesn’t want to. That he’s fighting it off so he can have this memory forever. He stares at the ceiling trying to memorize the way his arms feel around her, the way he doesn’t know which leg is his and which is hers, the way he can feel her warm breath fanning across his chest. He wants something to cling to on another lonely night, where she can’t just walk down to his house and make him feel better.

How can you get a memory in a mason jar? How can you wrangle it into Tupperware, or stick it in between book pages like flowers?

He turns towards her, pulling her flush up against his chest, and she lets him, too asleep to fight.

“More comfortable?”

“Mhm.” He grumbles.

He tries to memorize the way the smell of her body wash still hasn’t worn off, how she sighs when he presses a kiss to her hair, the way she hugs his arm close to her.

“Goodnight.”

“G’night, love you.” Her consciousness is fading.

“Love you more.”

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #steve x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington my beloved #Steve harrington x reader fluff #Steve harrington x you #Steve Harrington x y/n #Steve Harrington x y/n fluff

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dakotalun · 9 months

Text

The Cabin | Eddie Munson

pairing: Eddie Munson X Fem Reader

summary: The older kids decide to take the weekend off and head down to Steve's parent's cabin.

warnings: none for this chapter, just some mutual pining

word count: 2k

a/n: Been thinking of this idea for years now and finally decided to put it down on paper, or screen ig.

*******NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS*******

Eddie’s POV

Steve has been planning this trip for weeks. I mean, I like the guy and all but he can go a little overboard with things. He has been trying to get us all to come down to his family’s lake house for what feels like forever. Just the older kids, Steve, Nancy, Robin, Jonathan, Y/N and I. He says it’ll be a weekend of games, drinking and fun. Which translated to normal language means, raiding his parents liquor cabinet, smoking some blunts and playing kiddie games like truth or dare, and never have I ever. Not that I mind, I’m just happy to be invited, even if I do have to do a shit ton of manual labor beforehand.

“Come on Eddie, it’s only gonna take a few hours,” Steve pleads with me over the phone.

“Dude exactly, a few hours. Do you know what I could be doing in those ‘few hours’?” I’m walking around the trailer trying to not explode my head off as Steve whines at me.

“I don’t know, you’d probably get high and sleep, or some shit. Just come on! I really need your van.”

“Nope, not happening,” I plop down on the couch and open my tin lunchobox, ready to roll a joint, “I mean why do you need my van anyways, isn’t your car fine?”

Steve sighs over the phone, “Yes but it’s too small. I need help moving some stuff from my family’s storage locker to the lake house. You know that place you’ll be staying in for the next week!”

I finally get done rolling my joint and scour my tin for a lighter, if I’m gonna help Harrington with this I’ll be needing it, “Ugh fine, just let me get some shit first. I’ll be at yours in 20.”

“Fucking- thank you!” Before I can even say a snarky remark he hangs up.

I groan and throw my head back. I am so gonna regret this later.

---

A few days later I’m with Steve at his house, getting the stuff for the trip finalized. We planned that since my van is bigger than Steve’s tiny ass BMW, I’d be taking all the bags and shit with one passenger and he’d take the other 3 and all the food.

“So I’ll take Nancy, Robin and Y/n. You take Jonathan,” Steve says throwing a bag of chips into a bag.

“Oh hell no. Why do you get all the girls?” “Um maybe because then they’d have to deal with you for 2 hours,” I pick up a pack of marshmallows and throw them at him, “Hey! Fine, take Y/n I don’t care just stop throwing my shit.”

“Thank you,” I walk over to him and sling an arm over his shoulder, “That wasn’t so hard was it big boy?” He pushes me off and I stumble back as the doorbell rings.

“I’ll get it, you finish packing the food.” I straighten my back and put my hand to my forehead like a soldier, “Aye aye Captain!” and solute him as he leaves the kitchen.

I hear him open the front door and the voices of Nancy and Robin. The three of them come back into the kitchen laughing at something Robin had said.

“Sup ladies.”

“Hey Eddie,” They say in unison before turning their attention back to Steve. Before I met them I would’ve thought that they didn’t like me or that they only pretended to be my friend out of pity, now that I know them, I know that that’s not the case, they simply wanted to finish their conversation with Steve first.

“Hey hey!” The loud bang of the front door wakes me out of my daydream as Jonathan waltz’s into the room. Nancy gives him a quick kiss while he wraps his hand around her waist.

“So we all reday to go? I can’t wait to go skinny dipping,” He gives Nancy a smirk and wink before he bursts out loud at his own stupidity.

“Yeah pretty much. I just gotta get y’all’s shit into my van and pick Y/n up and we’ll be good.”

“Great. I’ll help load the rest of the stuff into the cars,” Steve heads out of the house with Robin and Nancy’s bags, “Hey Nance and Rob could you put those last few food bags in my trunk please?” Steve yells halfway out of the door.

They both agree in unison before grabbing the bags and heading outside. I sit there for a minute just thinking about what this weekend might intell, firstly I have to spend 4 hours in my van with the girl I have a crush on and secondly, I have a whole week of being with her, and my other friends but this is the longest we’ve hangout together and it’s not like I can just hop in my van and drive away when I do something stupid. I shake my head and join my friends outside, shutting the front door on my way out.

---

I pull up to Y/n’s house not even 5 minutes after calling her that I’m on the way. I see her parent’s cars in the driveway and pull up behind them. I jump out my van and rush to her door, maybe a little too eager to see her. I knock 3 times before the door is swinging open and I’m greeted with the big, bright smile that I like so much.

“Hey Eds! You got here quick, let me just grab my bags real quick, stay there,” She turns and her scent wafts in my face a little, she smells like vanilla and flowers. I wonder what she uses, vanilla shampoo and floral perfume? Maybe it’s in both, vanilla and flowers in body wash, shampoo, and perfume?! God what I would give to find out.

***

Y/N’s POV

I leave the door open as I run into the living room to grab my bags. I try my best to conceal the blush rushing to my cheeks upon seeing Eddie. I've never seen him in a muscle tee before, and if I’m being honest he looks hot as hell.

I quickly say goodbye to my parents and head back to the foyer, I don’t wanna waste another second here. I close the front door behind me and I feel a hand on my duffel bag as I turn back towards Eddie.

“I’m just gonna put these with the others in the back, go ahead and get comfy in the car,” He walks off towards the van, unlocking the doors for me to hop in.

“Actually,” I grab my small backpack from him, “I’m gonna keep this one with me.”

“Alright,” He walks off towards the back of his van.

Once I get in the car I set my bag down at my feet, opening it to get out my blanket and book. Eddie rounds the corner of the car and hops in along side me, buckling his seatbelt before starting the engine.

“Did you really bring a blanket?” He give you a small smile at the thought that I’d be prepared with a blanket for this ride.

“Yes I did. It was my grandpa’s so I bring it with me on trips. Don’t judge me.” I scowl at him but then flash him a little smile back.

Eddie’s heart warms at the thought of me being so close to my grandparents that I keep their things even after they are gone, “Hey no judgement here,” He holds his hands up in mock surrender, “if I had stuff from my grandparents I’m sure I’d keep it too.”

I laugh a little and Eddie pulls out of my driveway beginning the long journey to Steve’s lake house.

---

Roughly half an hour into the drive I start to get a little bored and hungry so I riffle around in my bag to find the cheez-its and book I packed. Upon finding them you pull your feet up on the chair and begin reading and eating your snacks.

You’ve always loved road trips, especially in the summer, the way you can just let the windows down the warm air blowing in your hair cooling you down while also keeping you at a nice temperature. This was no different, other than it was with Eddie, not your parents. It felt good to be with Eddie listening to his music as it plays over the speakers and hearing his rings knock against the steering wheel as he taps along to the beat of the song.

You feel relaxed, and happy. A feeling you haven’t really felt much recently. School had become really stressful with all the college applications and decisions to be made. And then getting ready for all the AP exams you’d be taking in late April, then the actual finals for your classes, it was all just so stressful. So when Steve and Robin approached you about spending spring break away from the gloomy town of Hawkins, who were you to deny them.

You’re reading your book and can’t focus well because you feel eyes on you. You look up from your book and over at Eddie, who is just glancing back from the road to you with a questioning look on his face.

“What?” You ask turning your body towards him a little.

“Nothing,” He looks away, focusing solely on the road again.

“You wouldn’t be staring if it was nothing. So what is it?”

“I just dont get how you can read in a moving car? Like doesn’t it make you nauseous?”

“Uh no I guess not. I didn’t realize that this was a weird thing to do? Can you not read in a car?” You’re genuinely asking, wondering if you’re weird or not for being able to do this.

“Hell no, I get sick just being in the passengers seat,” He laughs a little at the weird way his body works, “I don’t know I guess it something about focusing on the road helps calm me,” He looks over at you for a second, taking in your position. Feet tucked under you, blanket thrown over your legs hanging low, book resting face down on your knee and cheez-its between your arm and the door. He has to admit you look cute like this, “I’ve just never met anyone who can read in a car. It’s pretty cool.”

“Thanks, I guess.” You smile at each other before Eddie resumes his focus on the road and you on your book.

Before you know it you’re passed out in the seat while your book dangles off the endle of the seat. Eddie notices that he needs more gas so as soon as he can he gets off the highway and heads to a station to fill up. While getting gas he notices how peaceful you look sleeping in his van, sure you may be laying a weird position but you look calm. Eddie gets back in the van but before pulling out of the gas station he takes your book, places in your bookmark and sets in down near your bag. He knows how much you’d hate if anything happened to it while you slept.

3 and a half long hours later you guys finally make it to the lake house, but you can’t see Steve’s car there. Eddie hops out of the van to give him a call quickly.

“Hey,” Eddie says through the speaker.

“Hey- No we are not stopping again! Get it together we aren’t that fucking far! Hey dude sorry I know we’re late but someone keeps insisting on us stopping for bathroom and snack breaks,” Eddie can hear the disdain in his buddy’s voice knowing exactly who the someone is.

“It’s no problem dude, just remind me what the code to get in is again, we can start getting everything set up while you get here.”

“Thanks dude. The code is 3957, just make sure to turn on the water and power too.”

“Sure thing, see you soon.”

“Bye- Rob I told yo-” And then the line goes dead. Eddie laughs a little to himself before putting his phone back in his pocket and heading to your side of the car.

#eddie stranger things #munson #eddie munson #eddie my love #eddie my beloved #female reader #oneshot #smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things 4 #st4 #stranger things season 4 #eddie x reader

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mentalpolaroids · 1 year

Text

Everything always leads back to you

[gif creds @dailystrangerthings]

Steve Harrington x female!Reader

Summary: The three times people spilled Steve’s secrets and the one time Steve did it himself

Warnings: mentions of injuries, swearing

I used some prompts from @promptplanetblr and @novelbear, shout out to them!

“Ow, fucking shit!”

(y/n) yelled from where she stood leaned against the wall rubbing her shin. Steve looked back at her and saw the now familiar pained and frustrated expression taking place in the girl’s features once again.

Steve, Robin and Nancy were helping (y/n) clean the garage of her place. She was about to buy her first car and needed to get rid of all the junk that was taking the much needed space for the vehicle’s future home. Robin agreed under the promise of free rides whenever she needed or pleased. Nancy was excited to see what antiques or old toys she could find and would constantly ask (y/n) if she could keep whatever dusty object she dug from a box, which was amusing to everyone. Add to that making fun of the Wheeler girl and her journalist instincts to ask dozens of questions about the history of said object.

And Steve… Well, Steve didn’t need a reason to say yes to anything (y/n) asked of him. He would drop whatever he was doing to rescue his best friend and spend time with her, and one of his favorite pastimes, besides staring at (y/n) like she was the greatest, most famous and appreciated art piece in a museum, was to scold her for how damn clumsy she was. Both complained, but both secretly loved it. That’s why Steve shook his head in amusement at the sight of beloved best friend in pain.

“I swear I’m gonna use this bubble wrap on you instead of the jars.”

“Look who’s talking, Harrington.” she groaned, “Are you forgetting all the times I had to patch that pretty face of yours?”

Steve smirked.

“You think I’m pretty?”

“I think you’re annoying.”

“How about bubble wrap for both and also a bit of tape to shut your traps?” Robin interfered, not really with the intention of stopping their bickering. Watching them “fight” was her favorite pastime.

“How about a bow to go with that?” Nancy held an old Christmas decoration and placed it on Steve’s hair, who quickly grabbed it and threw it at (y/n).

“Ew, cobwebs.”

At that, Steve furiously flapped his hair in panic of having a spider settling in on his head. As the girls laughed, (y/n) grabbed Steve’s hand to stop his movements and gently removed the tiny fragment of a cobweb from the strings she dreamed so many times of running her fingers through. The room seemed to grow silent for a second as Robin and Nancy observed the tender interaction between (y/n) and Steve.

“All clear, idiot.” the girl said, wagging her hands for any remains of the sticky, annoying fiber.

Steve thanked her shyly but his embarrassment didn’t die there. He turned around to go back to his previous chore but a trolley went unnoticed by his distracted stance and the boy tripped over it. The hiss that slipped through his teeth caught the girls’ attention and Robin widened her eyes realizing Steve had hit his healing broken rib against the metal.

“Wow, you okay?” (y/n) asked, concerned.

“Shit, dude, your rib!” Robin completely dismissed (y/n)’s question and the clear shut up look Steve sent her way.

After the Starcourt mall incident, Steve realized he was in worse shape than he thought when all the adrenaline vanished from his system and the excruciating pain below his chest was making it difficult to breathe properly and pretend he was okay. He still remembered the terrified look on his best friend’s face when she met him and Robin near the ambulance Steve was getting his face checked, before that, he had already asked- no, demanded, Robin to not tell (y/n) about the broken rib. She was already way too worried about the bruises covering his face, he didn’t want to send her into full panic mode if she knew those bruises felt like barely a scratch compared to the broken bone.

“Did you hurt your rib?” (y/n) asked, confused as to how he managed to hurt his rib with just a bump to the innocent trolley.

“Yes!” Robin shouted and Steve looked at her again in panic.

“No!”

“Steve!”

“Robin!” at this point, he was shooting daggers with his eyes at the short haired girl, “I’m fine!”

(y/n) looked at Nancy hoping to find some answers to whatever was going on, but when she bit her lip in nervousness (y/n) realized that there was something she was being left out of.

“What the hell is going on?” she turned to Steve, “What’s wrong with your rib?”

The look (y/n) gave Steve was stern and he knew the expiry date of keeping his broken rib a secret had come.

After a long pause, Robin couldn’t take the pressure anymore.

“He broke his rib.” Steve closed his eyes in defeat and (y/n) remained confused, “When we escaped from the Russians, they broke Steve’s ribs during one of the beatings.”

(y/n) moved her gaze to Steve, who had his fixated on the trolley, mad that the things gave him away. When the new information quicked in (y/n)’s brain, the panic she felt that night came back.

“Wait, what do you mean one of the beatings?”

Robin’s eyes widened, feeling guilty that (y/n) didn’t know Steve had gotten beaten more than once. But this time, in her defense, she wasn’t aware that (y/n) didn’t know that part of the story.

The Harrington boy rolled his eyes, done with having hope in Robin’s capacity of keeping her mouth shut, and turned to (y/n).

“Yeah, huh, so yeah, they did more than just punch me a few times but hey,” he moved his hands to hold her wrists and comfortingly moved them up until they reached her shoulders, “I’m fine now, okay? Nothing to worry about.”

(y/n) stared back at his pleading eyes and sighed at how easily he could be forgiven with just a look and a smile. Or maybe she was just too weak and too lost in the adoration she had for the boy to stay mad at him for long. It was hard to give Steve the cold shoulder when he always made her feel so warm.

“You’re the one who should be wrapped in bubble wrap.”

Everybody who knew Dustin was aware of his big mouth, but they still trusted the curly haired boy nonetheless. Especially Steve. The soft spot he grew to reserve for Dustin made it easy for him to go with whatever the boy threw his way (or, in most cases, left Steve no choice but to go with it). But, Dustin had a big mouth still, and Steve wished he would have remembered that detail before he took the Henderson kid with him to help him find (y/n)’s birthday present.

“I just don’t get why you didn’t bring Robin or Nancy or even Max to help you. ”

“You just named the three people that are constantly giving me shit about being in love with (y/n).”

“It’s not like they’re wrong.”

Steve rolled his eyes, more annoyed at Dustin being right than his actual remark.

“Not the point.” Steve continued, “I want it to look like I chose the gift myself, last year (y/n) could totally tell Nancy helped me.”

“How could she tell?”

“A pair of shoes that are exactly her style and actually fit her? No way in hell I would ever get that right.”

“Yeah, maybe you should start looking more at other parts of (y/n) instead of her as-”

“Stop it.”

“I’m just saying, if you bought her a pair of jeans I’m sure you would get it right.”

“Okay, Henderson, I get it.”

The two boys, after visiting six stores, eventually agreed on the perfect gift that both tried to convince themselves was (y/n)’s style, and only that was enough to prove it was Steve who chose it. Now they just had to wait to see if she liked it.

Two days before (y/n)’s birthday, she was with Steve and Dustin on the way to the Wheeler’s to pick up Mike. Nancy greeted them at the door and let them in before calling for her little brother the way older sisters do.

Dustin, unlike his usual unphased behavior near Nancy, took notice of her outfit and immediately turned to Steve with wide eyes, then back to analyze the girl’s shirt, (y/n) and then Steve again, who eventually took notice of Dustin’s weird manners and noticed what was getting him all worked up.

“Nancy’s shirt.” Dustin whispered, but loud enough for (y/n), who stood close to Steve, to hear.

“Shut up, dude.”

If (y/n) wasn’t so confused with whatever the two were whispering about, she wouldn’t be ignoring the slight jealousy of why Steve was now so interested in Nancy, or, more specifically, her clothes.

“Mike! For God’s sake,” Nancy sighed while whispering the last sentence, “I’m gonna go get him, just wait here guys.” she said before making her way up the stairs.

Steve and Dustin didn’t seem to acknowledge what she said as they kept bickering in hushed voices.

“What’re you idiots whispering about?” (y/n) asked, crossing her arms.

“Nothing.” both answered.

“Really, what’s wrong with Nancy’s shirt then?”

“Nothing!” Dustin fired the reply, his tone and posture showing his nervousness, “Absolutely nothing, we were just debating how it looks nothing like the present Steve got you.”

Dustin spoke fast but didn’t stutter and immediately regretted opening his mouth, just like Steve regretted ever asking his young friend to go shopping with him. The Harrington boy closed his eyes and took a deep breath hoping to keep his patience in check.

“Yep, looks nothing like your present.” he wasn’t sure if he was giving up on trying to hide what his gift was, he just knew Dustin was no longer apt to keep his secrets.

(y/n) bit her lip to contain a laugh and was about to ask for details on said present when Nancy came down with Mike following her.

“Okay, okay, I’m ready!” Mike said, still pulling his backpack over his shoulders.

“Say hi to the others for me.” Nancy asked, referring to the rest of the party who would be meeting them at the arcade.

“Will do, and you have fun tonight.” (y/n) winked, teasing Nancy about her anniversary date with Jonathan.

“Ew.” Mike commented, understanding what (y/n) was referring to.

“Shut up, lanky Wheeler, we’re gonna be late because of you.” she attacked back.

While they made their way to the car, (y/n) stepped up to meet with its owner, Steve, and pinched his arm to get his attention.

“So, should I guess what my present is or did I already have a glimpse of it?”

“I’m gonna cave to my desires one day and kill Henderson.”

The girl laughed and laced her arm with his.

“For the record, I like it a lot.”

Never in her life had (y/n) felt so irritated with her own hair. She really underestimated the capacities of the woman explaining a supposedly easy way to style your hair and now that damn strand was testing her patience.

Nancy and Jonathan were in charge of (y/n)’s birthday party this year, it took a lot of begging and convincing from the couple, especially when Nancy mentioned a themed party, but eventually, with Steve’s push, (y/n) caved and accepted it. But now, standing in front of the mirror in Steve’s bathroom at war with her own hair, she regretted it all.

“Steve!”

“What?” the boy replied from his room.

“A little help here?”

Before he could answer, the doorbell rang.

“I’ll be right back, must be Robin.”

The girl groaned in annoyance and decided to finish the work on her outfit until Steve returned to help her.

It took a while, but eventually (y/n) heard noises coming from her best friend’s room so she assumed he was back. While Steve was gone, she was looking through the bathroom cabinets in hopes of finding anything that could help hair situation, and if there was someone who surely had something to help your hair look great, it would be none other than Steve “The Hair” Harrington. Good thing the legend was (y/n)’s best friend.

“Hey Steve, can I use your Farrah Fawcett spray?” she asked, still running her eyes through the shelves looking for the bottle. At the lack of reply, she called for him again, “Steve?”

Instead of his voice, she heard laughter, a familiar one. Robin. (y/n) ran out of the bathroom to Steve’s room and saw the owner of the laugh, plus Nancy, Jonathan and a not so happy Steve standing there, looking at her, ones in amusement, others in guilt, and a specific one in annoyance. Silence settled in between the group for a few seconds until Nancy broke it.

“Happy birthday!”

The phrase was repeated by the others and each one of them hugged (y/n). After the wave of affection, the birthday girl looked at Steve with guilty eyes.

“I’m sorry! I thought they would be waiting downstairs.”

The boy shook his head, dismissing her unnecessary apology.

“It’s fine, that secret was bound to be let out sooner or later. I just thought it would be Dustin to fuck up.”

(y/n) cringed at the fuck up, but knew he wasn’t actually mad at her. .

“Sorry,” she said again, “But can I use it? I don’t know what else to do with this.” she pointed at the loose strand hanging in front of her forehead.

“Yeah, come on,” Steve put his hands on (y/n)’s shoulders, turned her around so she was standing with her back turned to him and lightly pushed her to the bathroom, “I’ll help you.”

As they disappeared out of the room, Robin, who was finally able to contain her laughter, said.

“Save the making out for after the party!”

And the last thing Robin, Nancy and Jonathan saw before exiting the room as well was Steve’s middle finger sticking out from the bathroom.

“It’s just painful at this point, you know?”

Robin asked as both her and Steve watched (y/n) make her way to the restroom after leaving the movies. Steve, confused, turned to her.

“What are you talking about?”

The girl pointed at the spot their friend just disappeared into.

“I’m not following.” Steve added, still confused.

“(y/n), dingus!”

“What about her?”

Robin rolled her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Are you seriously that dumb or did you just take too many hits in the head that you can’t ratiocinate properly?”

Steve’s eyebrow raised and at that point he was just wondering which one of them looked more delusional.

“Are you ever gonna tell what the hell you’re talking about?”

“You’re in love, dude!”

“Wow, wow,” he shook head, as if the movement would help the words find their place of reason in his brain, “what?”

“(y/n)! You like (y/n), and she likes you, and it’s so annoying that neither of you can see it!”

“Robin…”

“You’re in love with her!”

“No I’m not!”

Their voices had risen a bit and they were starting to get some annoyed looks from the people around them. Robin held Steve by his shoulders and shook him slightly trying to help him get to his senses and see the same picture as her.

“You’re definitely in love, all you ever talk about is her.” Robin’s voice was calmer, but her eyes held intention in her words, “You’re always looking at her, you pay the most attention to her when we’re all together, she’s the first person you share your snacks with and you even have a picture of her on your night stand!”

“How do you even notice that?”

“How do you not?”

Steve scoffed as he shook his head again. Something about Robin’s words sounded familiar, like she was describing his daydreams about his best friend. Ever since Nancy and even after all his failed dating attempts, he became closed off to the possibility of having exactly what he was looking for right in front of him. He was aware of the special feelings towards his best friend but he refused to call it love. He refused it so much that he started to believe in his own lies and now, being confronted about it made him feel like a loser, not only for making his feelings obvious to the outside but for being, once again, in open to another failed relationship.

“i’m not in love, she’s just… she’s just always on the back of my mind and… yeah, I, huh…”

Robin shook his shoulders again. One last push to align his ideas and finally come to his senses.

“Shit, okay, yeah I’m in love with (y/n).”

“Finally.” Robin cheered, and after letting go of Steve she saw the topic of conversation standing behind them, “Hey, you know what, I need to use the restroom too, be right back!”

She left and gently and not so discreetly pushed (y/n) towards Steve.

“What?” the boy asked, following his friend with his head and then he felt his heart being pulled to his back when he saw (y/n) right behind him, “Oh, shit, hey.”

(y/n) smiled, shyly but with a hint of fulfillment.

“Hey.”

Steve scratched the back of his neck having trouble looking (y/n) his best friend in the eyes, and he swore he almost forgot how to stand on his feet when she took a few steps to stand even closer to him.

(y/n) bit her lip, there was a huge smile waiting to be drawn in her face for finally hearing the words she could only dream of hearing.

“How much of that did you hear?” the boy asked, nervously.

“Enough to say that it took you long enough.”

“Huh, what now?” Steve chuckled, a nervous scoff to match his doubtful understanding of her reply.

“Did you mean it?” now it was (y/n)’s turn to become anxious, “Or did you just say it so Robin would shut up?”

“No, I meant it!” he was quick to reassure her, “I totally meant it I just… I don’t know, I…”

“Wasn’t supposed to hear it?”

“Yeah.” Steve smiled, feeling more confident at how hopeful she stared at him, “But I’m glad you did. I wasn’t being honest with myself, I didn’t want to fall in love with you so I tried to make excuses for these feelings I had but… everything just always leads back to you and I don’t think I wanna make excuses anymore.”

He could melt with the intensity of (y/n)’s stare over him, but she was in the same state as he was, a result of his confession. They stood like that for a long pack of seconds, looking dumb to those walking by, two idiots in love looking at each other, a moment straight out of one the chick flicks playing in a theater near them.

They both knew what they were waiting for, but neither of them wanted to make the first move, until (y/n) grew fed up with the tension and decided to end it. They’d been dancing around that tension for so long and if there was a time to jump into it, it was that moment.

“So,” (y/n) started, taking another step closer to Steve, “do we kiss, or…?”

Steve, still not believing that moment was actually happening, could only nod his head, and it felt like he was having an out of body experience when (y/n) touched his cheek to properly align her mouth with his and, finally, kiss. At the same time though, Steve never felt more grounded, in the right place, where he belonged and where it all made sense.

They grew more comfortable in each other, and when that comfort turned into addiction the kiss intensified. Hands held onto clothing trying to grip the skin, to be as close to each other as possible.

In the distance, Robin approached her friends with an open mouth in both shock and excitement. They’re finally making out, she thought. Despite her happiness, she started to feel a bit anxious about having to interrupt their moment, especially when she saw Steve lightly push (y/n) against the wall.

“Oh shit.” Robin resumed her steps towards the couple and cleared her throat to try and get their attention. Nothing. She shook her head, amused at the scene and dying to tell the story to the others.

“Guys, hi, huh, I’m so happy for you right now, like, bonkers happy, but I still need a ride home.

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #friends to lovers

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quixoticall · 3 months

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This Could Get Ugly Track 2: The Beginning

Summary: It's 1983 and The Downsides need another lead singer and you just happen to need a band--it's a perfect match. The only issue? You have to pretend to be in a relationship with your bandmate, Steve Harrington, but you can't help but be drawn to the band's broody guitar player.

pairing: s.h. x fem!reader, e.m. x fem!reader, j.b. x n.w., r.b x n.w.

warnings: Heavy drug use, era-normalized!misogyny, everyone is a dick, Mention of French people, angst, fake relationships, partial interview style, no use of y/n

WC: 12K

MASTERLIST🎸

PLAY PREVIOUS TRACK 🎤

NANCY: Eddie was... not what we expected.

ROBIN: Eddie Munson looked like he’d been through some shit.

I’m not talking about the fact that he was covered in tattoos and never got a haircut. It was more that he just always looked sad and tired and kinda strung out.

NANCY: He looked a bit out of place with the rest of us.

ROBIN: He did not fit in one bit. I mean to be fair, we were a bit of a hodgepodge anyway but Eddie took the cake.

He was pure metal, the kind of guy who should’ve been in like Iron Maiden, not a synth band! So, we were kinda confused as to why Starcourt thought it would be a good idea to bring him on board.

And then we heard him play.

NANCY: Eddie was the best guitar player we ever had and the best songwriter up until that point, too. Don’t tell Jonathan or Steve I said that, though.

ROBIN: Yeah, he was better than Steve and I would say that to Steve’s face. In fact, I did say that to Steve’s face when we first heard Eddie play.

He was not happy about that. Actually, he wasn’t happy at all when Eddie first joined.

NANCY: It didn’t take very long for us to figure out that he was only there to fulfill a contract. I mean, it wasn’t like he was the most enthusiastic to be there but he wasn’t rude or hard to work with, he just treated it like any other job. He would be polite, but not overly friendly, do his thing in the booth, and then go sit and read until we needed him again.

Steve’s ego was still a bit tender after what had happened between him and me. I think seeing Starcourt bringing in this amazingly talented guitar player did him in a little. He was always used to being the best at what he did and suddenly that was no longer true. On top of that, Eddie just didn’t care and that made it worse in Steve’s eyes. They would butt heads all the time while we were recording our self-titled album. Things were a bit tense at the beginning, but we sounded better with Eddie there, much to Steve’s chagrin.

ROBIN: If you ask me, they hated how similar they were and that’s why they didn’t get along or maybe Steve was jealous of how little Eddie had to try to be good. Either way, those few first months after Eddie joined were almost as intense as the weeks following Jancygate. Don’t get me wrong, we always sounded great but there was no cohesion. We were trying to record our first full-length album but nothing ever came out sounding right, it was driving everyone crazy.

NANCY: When you’re first starting out in the industry, you don’t really have much of a say. You do what you’re told, you go to the meetings you're scheduled, and you add whatever member they throw at you. So, when Starcourt set up a lunch meeting with one of their producers about adding someone else to the band, we had no choice but to go.

May 26, 1983: The Bull and Bush

“Tell me again who this meeting is with?” You ask Murray from across the suspiciously long table.

When he had called you earlier in the week to set up lunch, he had been uncharacteristically cryptic about who the lunch was with and only told you it was with, “A few folks over at Starcourt,” he parroted again between bites of a bread roll. You stare him down silently over the rim of your martini glass and he gives, a little.

“I think I found you a way out of all these duets and possibly a chance to write music.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. Yes, that all seemed great but with Starcourt things were rarely what they seemed.

“By the looks of this table for 10, I’m starting to think that maybe you’re trying to recruit me to the company softball team, Murray.”

“Not today, sweetheart, but don’t worry, the Comets will get you eventually.”

Your second drink is interrupted by a tall, imposing man approaching the table. He has thick eyebrows that naturally knit together and a thicker mustache that rests straight along his mouth. You vaguely recognized him as an exec from the record label but his casual flowered button-down and white linen trousers make you doubt your memory.

“This is Hopper. Jim Hopper,” Murray says to you in a sweeping introduction, “he manages some bands at Starcourt.”

You can feel your face twist in confusion before you quickly temper your features and rise to introduce yourself.

Hopper takes your small hand in his comically large one and shakes it hard before sitting down next to Murray.

You watch as your new lunch companion flags down a server to order a double scotch, your mind buzzing to put the pieces together. What the hell was going on?

Hopper and Murray turn to you in tandem, reminding you of parents on sitcom TV.

Murray starts keeping his voice low, “The label thinks that you make the most money when you’re singing with others and causing some buzz. Since you made it very clear that duets are no longer an option for you, we came up with another solution.”

“I manage a band,” Hopper says then, “they’re talented but they’re newer and still trying to figure out their image and sound. We think you would be a good addition.”

This last part comes slowly, as your lunch companions try to gauge your reaction. “You want me to join a band?” You repeat, stunned. “Why?”

“As I said, they need help establishing a brand, a reputation, and that’s something that you have plenty of—“ Murray snorts “— plus, they need a solid songwriter and Murray tells me that’s you.”

Your eyes volley between the two men in front of you, trying to figure out what the catch is. There’s always a catch.

It’s like they can sense what you’re thinking because they lock eyes, and Murray sighs, “And it just so happens that they have a very handsome male lead singer and maybe part of the deal would include a bit of a front-facing, romantic narrative that would entice the public to buy your albums and go to your shows.”

“You want me to pretend to be in a relationship with some guy in a band so people buy our music? That’s your great plan?

“I’ve proved myself, Murray. I’ve done everything that’s been asked of me. I sang your stupid duets and recorded that vapid EP. Are you just going to string me along forever, asking me to do stupider and stupider stunts?”

You stand and swing your arm back to grab the purse hanging from your chair. The two men mirror your movement and suddenly it feels like you’re in a stand-off.

“It’s not stupid,” Hopper says, matter-of-factly, “and we do believe in your talent, but it’s not just about talent anymore, it’s about image and it’s about what sells. Scandal sells. Look, you’re a talented kid, everyone knows that. But, talent isn’t what sells anymore. People want something to gossip about and you’ve already given them that.

“This is not some hair-brain scheme Murray and I cooked up in the fucking restroom between lines. This is years of marketing research and scouting to get the perfect combination of talent. You should consider yourself lucky that Starcourt— that Brenner, personally— picked you out of thousands to execute his little pet experiment.

“They’re going to talk about you anyway, why not have a little control over what they say? It beats them calling you a slut, doesn’t it?”

You glare at Hopper as he’s towering over you.

“Listen kiddo,” purrs Murray, sliding into a different approach, “we’re not asking you to marry the guy. Just, have lunch with them and maybe we get you featured on their first LP, do them a favor like The Letterman’s did for you when you were just getting started, huh?

“Plus, the guy’s handsome, like total frontman full-package, so, who knows, maybe he’s your type and you won’t have to pretend!”

Murray guffaws at this like it’s the funniest joke in the world.

“Fine,” you say, your mouth pitching down in a scowl, before haughtily dropping back into your chair. They follow suit.

“One lunch, but you—“ your finger waves at Murray “—are gonna get me on the list for a cottage at the Mormont and you—“ you pivot to point at Hopper “—are getting me a French 75.”

“Please,” you add after a beat.

The two men exchange a look and Hopper rolls his eyes and stands.

“Was gonna get me another scotch anyway,” he grumbles before ambling over to the bar.

While Hopper is at the bar, Murray fills you in with as many details as possible: the band’s name (“The Downsides”), the lead singer’s name (“Steve Something”), and the rest of the band members’ names (“Johnny, Natalie, Robin, Ed... maybe?...and Argyle, no wait, that’s not a name”).

As if on cue, just as Hopper approaches the table from one side, a motley bunch of individuals, that you know have to be The Downsides, file into the restaurant. Hopper waves at them and they walk over, in a single line, all following their big-haired leader.

“These misfit toys are the band?” you snark to no one in particular and Murray shoots you a warning glare before waving at them with feigned enthusiasm.

Hopper reaches the table before they do and hands you your drink while announcing your name to the band.

You smile in a practiced, charming way.

“Hi, you must be Steve,” you say rising to greet the tall, slender man with a mane of wild hair. Admittedly, he is much more hard-edged than you had imagined, decked out in leather and hardware with thick, silver rings adorning his fingers. Maybe this is what Hopper meant when he said the band needed help with their image--this guy was far too metal to ever break it into the mainstream.

He burst into laughs and then bumps his fist into the shoulder of the guy standing next to him, another long-haired man whose eyes were rimmed red.

“Did you hear that, she thought I was Harrington! Buckley, come here, she thought I was Harrington!”

Your face flushes in embarrassment and you wince. So, that was not Steve.

“Hi, I’m Nancy Wheeler,” a voice says softly at your side. You turn and find yourself facing a pretty, doe-eyed girl probably around your age. The gentleness in her voice lets you know that she had witnessed your embarrassment at the hands of Not!Steve and she was trying to smooth things over, and make a good impression.

After Nancy, you shake hands with the bouncy, sometimes-bass-sometimes-brass-sometimes-synth player Robin Buckley and the shy-bordering-on-morose guitarist Jonathan Byers. The spaced-out drummer with the long locks is Argyle and Not!Steve’s name is actually Eddie Munson, which you learn only from Robin and Nancy as he doesn't bother to introduce himself. He looks vaguely familiar, but then again, everyone at Starcourt does.

He catches you staring at him and shoots you a mocking wink. You want to scowl back, maybe even flip him off but you are too aware of how that moment, snapped by a paparazzi and sold to a gossip rag, could impact your already- precarious public image. So, instead, you raise a glass in response.

“Where the hell is Harrington?” Hopper barks at the group once they had settled. “He needed to park the car,” explains Jonathan.

“Park? Why would he need to do that?” You ask, “this place has a valet.”

An awkward silence blanketed the group as they all looked at you and then exchanged amongst themselves. You were under the impression you had just said something wrong and you weren’t sure what.

Before you have the chance to smooth things over, the group is interrupted.

“Sorry, I’m late everyone, parking here is terrible.”

Oh, so that’s what Murray meant by ‘full frontman package’.

Steve Harrington was tall and leanly muscular with a face as sharp and bright as a jewel and hair graceful and tousled.

His eyes land on yours and your shoulders straighten with a jolt.

“Hi,” he breathes, “I’m Steve. Uh, Harrington.”

“Hi,” you all but sigh back, an unfamiliar warmth moving up your cheeks.

***

ROBIN: Steve “Loverboy” Harrington. He used to fall in love like three times a week back in the day. Everyone at the table could tell he was immediately smitten with her though. I mean who could blame him? She was like distractingly gorgeous. I’m pretty sure I spilled soup in my lap from staring at her. More than once. Steve spent most of the lunch making eyes at her and the crazy part was, I think she was into him! Honestly, I thought he was getting ready to propose. Until Hopper told us all why he’d really brought us there.

***

“What? No way, Hops, we’re not adding another person to the band. Plus, we already have a lead singer—me.” Steve’s whole demeanor changed once Hopper started talking shop—he had gone from smiling flirtatiously at you from across the table to huffing like a petulant child.

“It’s just a feature on one song, kid. If it goes well then we’ll revisit and if it doesn’t well, we better hope the rest of the album is pure gold because Brenner really wants this to go well,” Hopper tries to assuage.

“This is never gonna work,” Steve spits out, “she doesn’t match our sound at all. Or our vibe—we have, like, substance.”

The table goes standstill quiet upon hearing this. The only noise you hear is what you think is Robin kicking Steve under the table.

Steve turns to you after a beat and says, “No offense,” with a dismissive shrug.

***

NANCY: Steve has always had a habit of putting his foot in his mouth at the worst times. He didn’t mean to come off as an ass, I don’t think, it was probably his way of lashing out against all the change that was happening without our input. First Eddie, now this, he probably felt so out of control he—I think we all did. He still shouldn’t have said it though.

ROBIN: Stupid, stupid, stupid.

***

All eyes land on you, awaiting the imminent explosion.

It never comes.

Instead, you school your features into a neutrally pleasant expression—you never know where there’ll be a camera after all—and respond sweetly, “None taken. You’re right to not want me on your track. After all, I've only had like, 6 Top 10 Singles in the last year which is nothing compared to your…wait how many have you had, again?”

Steve’s face falls as Murray chortles from the other end of the table.

***

NANCY: It wasn’t the nicest way to put it but it wasn’t like she had been unprovoked. Steve needed a reality check.

ROBIN: I mean, she had a point. She was doing us a favor by recording the track with us. Dingus just needed to get over himself.

The rest of the lunch was super awkward, in case you were wondering. She was still nice to the rest of us, but she barely acknowledged Steve, or Eddie for the matter.

If you would’ve told me then what would eventually become of those three—ha!—I would’ve said you were insane.

STEVE: Yeah, I know I had fucked up. Like, as soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. I don’t know why I did it, I think I felt threatened or something. Listen, I think about what happened all the time and there isn’t one singular moment that we can pinpoint where everything went south, really, we all made mistakes, a lot of them. But sometimes, I can’t help thinking to myself that if I had just handled that day at the restaurant better, our whole lives would’ve been different. Or… who knows? Maybe not, maybe we were always meant to end as bad as we did.

***

June 7th, 1983–Los Angeles, California

A few days after your lunch with the Downsides, you see your own face peaking at you from the cover of a Subrosa magazine on a grocery store newsstand.

You glance around before surreptitiously crouching down for a closer look.

It was a grainy picture of you and Steve, sitting across from one another at lunch, clearly in conversation. The picture had been taken from outside the restaurant and framed in such a way that it looked like it was only the two of you dining together. You can tell by the looks on your faces that it was before everything had blown up—the two of you looked like you were enjoying yourselves.

Sultry Songstress Sees Upside with the Downsides’ Flirty Frontman reads across the top of the page, and you gag. They sure do love their alliteration over at the Sub.

You briefly wonder to yourself what Steve and the others will think of this once they see it. Shrugging that thought off, you toss the magazine into your cart.

***

You actually find out pretty quickly what Steve and the others think about the cover later that evening when you receive a call from an unknown number.

“Hi, it’s Robin,” you hear from the other line as soon as you pick up.

“Hi Ro—”

“Robin Buckley, from the Downsides? I don’t know if you remember me, but we met at lunch the other day when my friend made a huge ass of himself and— ow, Steve that hurt, God.”

Sounds of some sort of physical struggle echo through the telephone line until you decide to interrupt.

“Hi Robin, of course I remember you and your ass of a friend, what can I do for the two of you? Also, how did you get my number?”

You’re more curious than bothered when you ask the latter question.

“Four.”

“Pardon?”

“Four. There are four of us. See, you asked what you could do for the two of us but it’s not just me and Steve. Nancy and Argyle are here too—” At this point, you hear a faint ‘hello’ and ‘what’s up’ from the background—"For the sake of full disclosure I felt that I should mention that. Jonathan is visiting his family in Lenora Hills, otherwise, I’m sure he’d be here too. Oh, and to answer your question I got your number from Murray.”

“Uh-huh.”

You glance at your wristwatch; there’s a party in the Hills that you were planning on going to and you were going to have to leave soon if you didn’t want to be stuck in traffic all night.

As if she had read your mind, you hear some shuffling on the line before Nancy decidedly takes over the conversation with a much more serious tone.

“Hi, sorry to bother you this late but we wanted to ask if perhaps you had seen the latest issue of Subrosa? It seems like you and Steve are on the cover.”

Exhaling a laugh, you answer, “Yes, actually, saw it at the grocery store today, sorry you guys didn’t make the front page, I’m sure you’ll get them next time.”

“What? No, I mean, have you read the article? They’re printing lies about you both,” Nancy stutters out, indignantly.

“They’re saying that you and Steve had a private lunch and that he’s been seen sneaking out of the Hotel Mormont for weeks and that you might be pregnant? They’re even alluding to a fight breaking out between him and Jason Carver of all people.”

This causes you to fully chortle.

“I wish, that guy deserves a few punches to the face. I wouldn’t worry too much about it, though, everything they say about me is a lie.”

“What do you mean? Aren’t they supposed to have some journalistic integrity? Don’t they get in trouble for printing lies like this? Have you tried to contact their editors about this?”

The confusion you feel about this conversation is outweighed by how weirdly touched you feel that these girls who had only met you once seem so offended on your behalf.

“No, I mean, it’s a gossip rag, not like The New York Times or anything,” you placate, “and after all the terrible things they’ve said about in the past, I’m kinda just glad they got a half-decent picture of me. I appreciate you all calling about it though.”

And then, after a beat, you address the band’s lead singer, who has been oddly quiet throughout the whole exchange.

“I hope being pictured with me didn’t sully your reputation, Flirty Frontman.”

Really, you didn’t care if Steve was bothered by the whole thing, you just hoped that he wasn’t making his bandmates call you on his behalf. You didn’t know what to make of the guy quite yet. On one hand, he was completely sweet to you most of the lunch, he spent the meal asking you questions about yourself and refilling your drink without you having to ask. But the tantrum he had thrown reminded you a little too much of the dangerously self-absorbed musicians that had grown sick of these last few years.

“Me? No, I’m fine. Did you see how great my hair looked?”

You laugh silently at his answer. His hair did look great in the photo, but you were not about to give him the satisfaction of letting him hear that from you.

He continues, “Plus, they never really said anything terrible about me. They’re like, totally after you which is why Nance and Rob have been so worried, I guess. Are you good?”

His question comes out more hushed than everything else he’s said, and you are once again reminded of the earnest smiles you exchanged across the table a few days ago.

“I’m fine, Harrington, this is a regular Tuesday for me.”

With that, you bid goodbye to the band, citing your lateness, but not before expressing a very sincere thanks for their naïve concern.

The unexpected phone call makes you hit traffic, as you had predicted. You spend nearly an hour and a half in the back of a cab, the whole time, you can’t stop replaying the conversation you just had in your head.

Maybe there was more to the Downsides than met the eye?

***

This theory is proven, in part, after Hopper sends you a demo recording of some of their songs the following week.

The Downsides, you quickly find out, are good, like very good. Their music is like nothing you’d ever heard before: experimental and fun but polished and very technically sound. Steve’s vocals are annoyingly impressive—his growly timbre grounding the lighter sound and keeping it from sounding too saccharine. You can see them dominating the charts and blowing The Letterman’s and every other one-trick band out of the water.

The track they wanted you to jump on was part of the demos Hopper had sent out. It was called “Feel It”, a romantic song, tinged with melancholy but paired with an upbeat synth sound.

You had been sent a copy of the lyrics that included a cue for you to come in.

You practiced your part for days, agonizing over how you wanted to deliver the lyrics, and eventually, you came up with exactly what you wanted to do after making some minor adjustments.

You were actually excited to record the song until you remembered that you would have to come face-to-face with the band’s two asshole guitarists again.

On the day of the recording, you tried your best to be early, but you had been up tossing all night which caused you to oversleep then you lost your keys, and you were moving at the time, so your things were all over the place. You also had to turn around and come back when you realized you had forgotten the gift basket of cookies you were planning on bringing for the band—something left over from a package Charles Riva's team sent you as an apology for him blowing you off. All in all, you were about thirty minutes late.

You pulled into the Starcourt parking lot a harried mess and as you rounded the corner into the studio, you could hear the booming voice of Eddie Munson.

“She’s probably stuck circling the parking lot trying to find some working-class sucker to park her car. Harrington, why don’t you go check out there? Maybe you’ll get papped again and get another 5 minutes of fame.”

You hear Steve respond and while you can’t make out the words, you can tell he’s annoyed, embarrassed, or possibly both.

You can see the faces of every other band member fall like dominos as they each caught sight of you rounding the corner to stand directly behind Eddie.

Eddie though doesn’t seem to pick up on what’s clearly written on all their faces and persists through his tirade, “She’s only coming for the photo opp anyway—she doesn’t care about any of this.”

It’s Argyle who finds his voice first, “Eddie, man, isn’t that her?”

Eddie whips around and with comically wide eyes, looks down at you, grimacing.

You consider telling the guy off but decide against it.

If there is one thing you have learned these years it’s that while the male artists can throw fits, yell, scream, and even damage equipment without anyone as much as blinking an eye, one emotional misstep from you and you would be branded a diva. They would say you were difficult, rude, and find any excuse to toss you aside like they had so many women before you and you refused to let them have that satisfaction.

So, instead, you smile at the band, eyes lingering on Eddie for just a moment longer than on anybody else, to let him know that you had heard him, and then say brightly, “Sorry I’m late everybody. I brought some cookies.”

***

EDDIE: Yeah, it was a dick thing to say, and I regretted it immediately and not just because she brought us cookies.

I wasn’t—that wasn’t me.

I was just so angry about everything that I had lost, and I didn’t know where to put it all and then she shows up: this rich, spoiled girl who just seemed to float through life without a single fucking care or struggle, and suddenly I had an easy target.

I felt bad about it until she changed my fucking lyrics.

***

Unlike their guitarists, most of the band seemed pleased to see you and you spent a few minutes greeting everyone and handing around cookies while Eddie and Steve kept their respective distances—Eddie, sulking in a corner and Steve doing a poor job at pretending to tune his guitar.

“Okay kids let’s give the voices some space to do their thing,” Hopper says waving them through the door sounding more like a disgruntled parent than a manager.

In the end, it’s just you, Steve, Murray, and the sound booth tech. The latter two are busy prepping the sound and mic, leaving you and Steve standing in the back.

“Hey, I wanted to apologize about what I said the other day at lunch,” he leans in close to your ear, his eyes transfixed on his shoes.

“I didn’t mean it—not really. I guess I was just lashing out because, well, they keep changing things about the band without even talking to us. First, they made us go pop, then they made me give up lead guitar to Eddie because his previous band didn’t want him anymore, and then it seemed like they wanted to replace me with you and like, it’s not that I wouldn’t want you it’s just that—well they never even asked what we wanted, you know? I was frustrated about that, and I took it out on you and I’m sorry about that.”

You watch him as he digs the toe of his sneaker into the carpet, eyes downcast, clearly waiting for you to respond. You’re too busy contemplating his words, however, because an apology was the last thing you were expecting from him, much less such a sincere one.

Out of all the difficult men you had dealt with in your life—producers, musicians, lawyers, managers, former flings, hell, even your own father—you had never received an apology from any of them regardless of how poorly they’d treated you.

Steve’s eyes finally trail up to meet yours, searching your face for signs that he didn’t say the wrong thing yet again.

Seeing no trace of dishonesty on Steve’s face, you decide to trust the apology for what it is and nod in acceptance.

“I get it,” you say, and truly, you did, “I’ve had most of my career decisions made for me, and a lot of times, they weren’t really what I wanted. It makes the whole thing feel kind of…empty, doesn’t it?”

His face floods with relief as he nods along in understanding.

“Yeah, like does success matter if we can’t do things our way? Me and Rob, we’ve been best friends since we were little and this has always been our dream and now that it may be coming true, it doesn’t feel like we imagined. I guess that’s kinda stupid though, expecting things to be like you imagined them as a kid,” he laughs at himself nervously.

“No, it’s not,” you counter, “that’s not stupid at all.”

You understand Steve’s disillusionment completely because it mirrors your own.

“Listen, I get how you feel, trust me, but you got to keep going. You guys are good, and I think you could all be big one day and then it’ll be you who’s calling the shots and then you can kick me and Eddie to the curb,” you clearly say the last part in jest but that doesn’t stop the shame that rolls across Steve’s face.

“Hey, don’t say that. You’re really talented and we’re lucky that you’re doing us this favor. We’d be even luckier if we could get you to stick around. Munson I could give or take, though.”

His joke makes you laugh so loud that Murray turns around and glares.

***

Steve was sent into the booth first to record his final vocals for the song, leaving you to observe.

As they set Steve up, your eyes kept bouncing over to the newly appeared Eddie, trying to figure out what exactly he was doing there.

“I wrote the song,” Eddie explains, after catching your eye.

“Oh,” you say, not bothering enough to hide your surprise, “well, congratulations, it’s a good song.”

You catch him eyeing the plate of cookies at your side. You open your mouth to offer him a cookie, but the echo of his words rings fresh in your mind, so instead, you reach for one and make a big show of savoring it.

Steve records his part of the vocals in five takes. He appears a bit nervous at first but eases into his groove rather quickly.

As the audio engineer is setting up the booth for you, you feel your own nerves rise. You wanted this to go well. You wanted to impress Steve and Hopper and even Eddie.

They signal you into the booth and the first two times, you record the song exactly how it’s written. Then, on the third one, you switch up the final chorus.

The original lyrics were: Fear in your heart, can’t conceal it/ But baby, my loves your cure, can’t you feel it? / Lay your hope bare next to mine/ and even if the world caves in, we’ll be fine

You changed the lyrics to: Fear in your heart, can’t conceal it/ But baby, my loves your cure, can’t you feel it? / Lay your flaws bare next to mine/ because when the world caves in, I’ll leave you cryin’

The change was slight, you thought, but meaningful.

The original version—Eddie’s version—was too hopeful. It was a boring portrayal of lovers staying with each other through thick and thin.

Your change added some conflict and dimension to the narrative. You made it better.

“What the hell was that?” Eddie pushed past Murray to yell into the mic that fed into the booth.

You roll your eyes at him dramatically interrupting your take, “I was just trying something out.”

Hopper pulled Eddie back by the shoulder while Murray wrestled the mic from him.

“Woah, sweetheart, pump the breaks. That was good. Better than the original. Can we run that one more time but with your lyrics instead? Harrington, we’ll re-record some of your parts too.”

Hopper has to all but carry Eddie out the door after he hears that.

***

EDDIE: The thing that pissed me off the most was that her version of the song was better. I just didn’t want to admit it because I wrote that song about Chrissy, about how even though I was so scared I was going to fuck up our relationship, she understood that and was willing to work through that with me. Her version was much closer to what actually happened and that hit a little too close to home.

***

“Woah, what did you two do to Eddie?” Robin demands as soon as you and Steve are dismissed into the hallway. “Hopper pretty much had to drag him out in tears!”

You worry at your bottom lip, caught in the wondering eyes of the group. At the time, you felt like you were doing the right thing, but now you wonder if you had forgone the common courtesy of at least letting him know you had changed the song. You didn’t want to come across as unprofessional as he accused you of being.

“I should probably go talk to him,” you say in response.

“Geez, Robin. Was the third degree really necessary there? This is just like last week’s DMV visit all over again,” Steve chastises as they all watch you walk away.

***

You find Eddie in the smoking area, cigarette in hand. “Hey, listen can we talk—"

Eddie turns dangerously to face you, cutting you off.

“You know what your fucking problem is? No one’s ever said no to you so you think you can do whatever the hell you want and that everyone else just rolls over and gives it to you because you’re so pretty and charming and rich.

“Well, you may have the rest of those assholes fooled but I see right through you, okay?”

Your eyes narrowed in response before you snap back.

"First of all, you don't know anything about me, so stop pretending that you do. I have worked hard to be here, just like the rest of you, and as far as this song goes, my name is going to be attached to it too, so I have just as much of a right to give input as you or Steve. It was wrong that I didn't say anything to you beforehand, sure, and I apologize for that, but let's not pretend that you've been the epitome of professionalism here either because you've been an ass to me since we've met, and I don't know why but I won't stand for it again. Fuck you, Eddie Munson,” you spit out before turning on your heel and stomping away.

***

EDDIE: That was hot, not gonna lie.

***

“Are you really going to let some mangy metalhead from Bumfuck, Nowhere keep you from finally doing what you want?” Murray asks exasperatedly when you call him to complain about the exchange later that night.

“Listen, I’ve recorded a lot of songs in that studio, some of them great, most of them mediocre, but today blew all of them out of the water. The band’s never sounded better and neither have you, frankly. If you gave up the chance to finally write your own songs and sound this good while doing it, that would be flat-out idiotic. You know that, right?”

The line goes still.

“Yes,” you finally say.

“Great, now that that’s settled, why don’t you get some rest, huh? Ruining Muson’s day must have tired you right out.”

You exhale a laugh before saying goodbye.

Although you would never say it to his face, you were grateful for Murray. It was nice having someone looking out for you.

***

MURRAY: Brenner loved the track. After that, we had a very short time to make a lot of big things happen. The Downside’s debut album was already 70% recorded, but now that we had a whole other person on vocals, we had to scrap a good portion of the work they had already done and rerecord with our new vocalist. We couldn’t even celebrate our victory because we were just getting started.

Those poor kids had no clue what was coming.

***

When your phone rings a few mornings later, you suspect it’s Murray again with an update on the song, and while you’re right about the message, you’re wrong about the messenger.

“Hi, it’s Steve, uh, Harrington. Obviously,” you hear a familiar voice crackle over the line.

“Oh? And to what do I owe the honor Mr. Obviously?” you respond.

“Oh, very funny. Listen, I wanted to call and let you know that we just heard from Hopper that Brenner and his guys liked our song, and they want us to continue, you know… recording together and stuff. So, yeah, would that be something you’re interested in… being a part of, you know, the band?” his voice wavers a bit as he asks.

“Is that even a choice?” you fire back, “I was under the impression that once Brenner gave the go-ahead, it was pretty much a done deal.”

He clears his throat in response, “I think you deserve to have a choice. I talked to the rest of the band, and they agree and if you don’t want in, we’ll back you… even if that means breaking our Starcourt contract.”

The line goes silent as you contemplate the gravity of what Steve has just said. The Downsides would be willing to put their own career at risk just to assure you the luxury of choice.

The answer was easy after that.

“I’m in,” you say after a few moments of terse silence. “I want to be a part of the band.”

You can all but see Steve pumping his fist on the other side of the line.

“That’s great! That’s great news. I’m glad my asshole tendencies didn’t put you off,” he laughs, relieved.

“I mean, it was a tough sell,” you tease back, “but I think we can be good together. The band, I mean.”

You wonder if you’ve said the wrong thing when his joyous peals of laughter stop suddenly at your words.

“Actually, um, about that,” he begins, once again nervously, “I’m really grateful that you’re giving us—the band—a chance and that you were nice enough to record the single with us in the first place. And, I mean, I know I’m already pushing my luck with the universe and you but maybe—uh, maybe today it’s my turn to be the luckiest guy in the world? Who knows?”

You have absolutely no clue what he’s getting at, and you let him know as much.

“Right, hm, I was wondering if I could take you out, on a date, to celebrate us becoming a band but also like, you know, a date. I know I made a total ass of myself, but I really like you, and I think you're gorgeous and talented and smart. I know I may not deserve another shot, but I would love it if you gave me one.”

You’re at a loss for words. First, you’re not even sure if you want to trust Steve fully, not quite yet. Sure, he apologized, but a part of you wonders if he only did it to get on your good side once he had seen how your pre-established infamy could serve him after that Subrosa article ran. Murray mentioned how radio runtime for the few EP songs The Downsides had in the rotation tripled since the publication. It definitely wouldn’t have been the first time you were being used like this.

Even if you could find it in yourself to look past that (and who knows, maybe you could?) there was still the matter of what Murray and Hopper had so delicately mentioned that day at lunch.

“I’m sorry, Steve, I don’t think that would be very professional. Especially on account of our… front-facing, romantic narrative.”

“Our what?”

***

MURRAY: I thought that Hopper had gotten his team on the same page about the more personal aspects of the band’s arrangement, but apparently, I was wrong. None of them had any clue what was going on and the thing about running a ruse is that people that are in on it kind of have to know that they’re in on it.

A few days before we began re-recording, the girl called me all in a tizzy because she accidentally spilled the beans, not knowing that Harrington had no clue at all about the plan.

I then call Hopper; it turns into this whole thing. We had to arrange an emergency meeting with the two of them and the entire legal team.

A bit slow on the uptake, that Harrington kid, but he got there. Eventually.

He was harder to convince than the girl, though. At least she didn’t have a problem with lying to the public. But Harrington was all about that Midwestern “integrity” and “letting the music speak for itself”. Hop eventually had to spell it out real simple for him: either they do this, or the entire band was cooked.

STEVE: I guess after like 15 years the ruse is finally up, huh? Yeah, the relationship was fake. Or, at least, it started out that way. Listen, it was complicated and we’re getting ahead of ourselves.

But, if you’re asking about what I was thinking when they finally told me their plan, well, I wasn’t happy or on board at all. It felt like we had already given up so much of ourselves for this—like, where do you draw the line, you know?

But then Hopper reminded me that it wasn’t all about me: Nancy had dropped out of college to be in the band, Jonathan…he had his sick little brother to take care of, and even Munson was going to be in trouble if he didn’t fulfill his contract with Starcourt.

It was selfish to say no, in my opinion. And really, what was I losing? I got to make music for a living and parade around, pretending to date a total hottie while doing it. I mean, the only way it could’ve gotten better was if the relationship had been real.

***

After what feels like days—but is most likely hours—with the Starcourt legal team, you and Steve are finally released with a very long grocery list of instructions that include a minimum number of required public appearances; a very specific list of acceptable PDA; and interestingly, enough, a sample NDA in case either of you wanted to “be involved” with anyone on the side.

“Nothing says romance like NDA, right?” you weakly joke in an attempt to break the ice.

“How are you so okay with this?” Steve shoots back, seemingly stunned.

“Well, it’s not like this is my first rodeo, or my fourth, or my sixth.”

And before he can question further, you tell him everything, starting with Jason fucking Carver.

***

STEVE: I couldn’t believe it. They had been forcing her to pretend to be involved with all these guys for years. It was super fucked up, but she stuck with it. That’s how much she wanted it. How could I possibly let her down after that? Especially with my own selfish, dumb feelings? She was right, we needed to keep it professional, no matter how hard that was going to be for me.

***

JONATHAN: Jonathan Byers, bassist and guitarist for the Downsides. never wanted to be famous, I just wanted to play music and make enough money to support my family. I could do all of that and more with The Downsides.

I felt like the luckiest guy in the world then. We were finally starting to see some stability as a band and even though things weren’t exactly as we expected, things were good. I mean we were making music we loved with people we liked—back when we all still liked each other.

***

October 1983—Los Angeles, California

As the studio had predicted, the band’s single was a total hit, as were you and Steve in the press. The gamble Starcourt was starting to pay off.

Everyone was more relieved than happy about that news.

What followed was a few grueling weeks of rerecording the band’s nearly completed album while also strategically traipsing arm-in-arm with Steve around every romantic spot in Hollywood trying to bait the paparazzi.

Things had finally slowed down a bit since the album was in post-production, but Starcourt still had you on a tight schedule. You had transitioned into rehearsing for the band’s upcoming tour. That’s how certain Startcourt was that the Downsides were going to be a success—you were rehearsing for a tour that hadn’t even been announced yet for an album that hadn’t even been released.

You try not to think about what it would mean if the band didn’t meet the label’s expectations. Instead, you focus on figuring out how to adapt to the band you’re now a part of.

The obvious lack of familiarity between all of you was not as pronounced when you were re-recording in the studio, now that you’re all rehearsing together, it is impossible to ignore. The original members of the band share a bond that keeps them incredibly in sync, oftentimes leaving you and Eddie struggling both on and off the stage. You’ve been working to adapt though, and you’ve made progress, sometimes you’re even close to feeling like the band has accepted you as one of their own. But then something will happen that will leave you feeling like an outsider once more.

***

The last thing a hungover you needs to see at seven in the morning is a Subrosa article questioning your moral character and calling you a man-eater. The universe—in the form of one Nancy Wheeler—has a different idea.

“Have you seen this?” the keyboardist asks, indignation coloring her tone, as she slings the offending publication across your lap.

You hadn’t seen it, in fact, but one look at the grainy picture of you and Steve and you can assume what the article says.

You sigh tiredly in response, “Honestly Nancy, you shouldn’t pay attention to this shit. I don’t know why you let it bother you so much.”

“It’s just so unfair that they’re singing Steve’s praises and are still dragging you through the mud, even though you’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Exactly, there’s no winning with them, not for me. So why don’t we just say fuck them and do whatever we want?” You find it in yourself to waggle your eyebrows playfully at her earning a giggle from the otherwise serious girl.

You catch Eddie watching your exchange from across the large warehouse that is serving as the band’s rehearsal space with a curious amount of interest.

The two of you have barely spoken since your row outside of Starcourt. It’s not like you’re missing out on much though, since Eddie barely interacts with the band beyond rehearsal which makes his apparent engagement with your conversation unusual. Eddie, realizing he’s been caught staring, opens his mouth to say something but is quickly interrupted by a very late Steve and Robin.

“Hey, have you seen the latest issue of Subrosa?” Steve asks, harried and out of breath.

You try not to think about the fact that this is the third time this week that the two of them have shown up together and late.

“Yes, we were just talking about it, which you would’ve known if the two of you were on time for once,” Nancy jabs back with no real heat, just the annoyance of an older sister chastising her siblings.

“Hey, don’t blame me, Robin wanted to—” he stops short as soon as his eyes land on you and coughs awkwardly.

“I wanted to stop by the post office,” Robin rushes to say. “It’s Bastille Day and I needed to send a card to my French pen pal, Celine in honor of the occasion.”

“Isn’t Bastille Day in July?” You ask Robin.

She flushes scarlet. “Right, exactly, that’s why this is so important, my card was already like three months late. You know how French people are about punctuality.”

She then exchanges a meaningful glance with Steve and Nancy who seem to be having their own sort of conversation consisting solely of glances and eyebrow movement.

“Fine, whatever,” Nancy exhales after a few terse moments of silent communication, “let’s just start please.”

She stands and the others follow suit. You, however, remain sat, trying to figure out what exactly had just happened.

Steve, sensing you hadn’t moved, turns to throw you an apologetic look over his shoulder before beaconing gently with a nod of his head. You sigh but join him, nonetheless.

This happens a lot.

***

JONATHAN: When the whole staged relationship thing first started, I don’t think any of us had any idea what that meant. I mean, sure, it started out as the gimmick that got us through the door but it soon became something bigger than that. Their relationship was synonymous with the band and it's success and I'm sure that resulted in a lot of pressure.

I think for the two of them, though, the most difficult part was trying to keep things professional, especially when other people began to get involved.

***

None of the personal dynamics mattered when you were all playing together.

What you loved most about your bandmates was that they cared about the music just as much as you did. That had become clear from the very first rehearsal and even now, nearly a month in, you’re still in awe watching them all perform alongside you.

Prim, soft-spoken Nancy turned into a wild thing on the keyboard, her whole body moving with the music, fingers flying over the keys like it was nothing. Ever the perfectionist, she would never miss a note, and on the off chance that she did, curse words you had never heard before streamed out of her mouth, causing your eyes to go wide every time.

Jonathan, too, became something else: full of bravado and fire, hair swinging wildly and even jumping around on stage. His playing had a smoothness to it, he knew when to show restraint and let someone else shine and when to bring it himself.

Argyle and Robin were the biggest transformations, though. Gone was goofy and easy-going Argyle the person and all that was left behind was the laser-focused drummer, who seemed to move on instinct to create a strong musical foundation for the rest of you. Robin, who normally was a bit erratic and all over the place, became the self-assured, quick-thinking driving force behind the band. It was like she knew exactly how the song needed to sound and what each person needed to bring to get there. She was the first to let anyone know there was something amiss and no one took it the wrong way because she was rarely wrong.

Steve and Eddie were exactly what you had expected, however, what you did not expect was how alike they would be. They both moved gracefully and with careless precision. Showmen in equal measures.

Once you had familiarized yourself with your bandmates, figuring out how you fit into the band’s onstage dynamic was easy.

Off-stage was a whole different story.

***

JONATHAN: I mean, yeah, I think it was natural that there was a bit of a divide in those early days between the ‘original’ band and our two new members. It’s not for lack of trying though, it’s just, well the five of us lived in a house together and had known each other for years, it was probably kinda intimidating trying to jump into that dynamic. I also got the feeling that the other two weren’t really used to having friends. They both seemed to have their guards up in their own way.

With her you could tell she was holding back, almost like she was afraid of doing the wrong thing and well, with Eddie… you know how he is.

I think it was that feeling of sort of being on the outside that first drew them together, honestly.

***

Your eyes scan over the small craft services area that makes up part of your rehearsal space. Most of the band starts at one table, chatting amiably over lunch. Before you can even take a step in their direction, though, your eyes zero in on Steve and Robin, whose heads are bent, close together, whispering to one another intimately and you falter.

As much as you enjoyed Robin and Steve individually, watching them interact with one another often stoked an aching loneliness in you that you struggled to put out and the more time you spent with them only made it worse. After six weeks, you were worn thin.

Deciding that you’d rather not foster any unearned feelings, you turn to the only other table where Eddie is sitting alone bent over a thick paperback.

Trying to play it as cool as you can, you reach inside your bag to pull out your own book, and casually sit down across from the long-haired boy.

He stares you down. You raise an eyebrow in response.

“Didn’t know you could read,” he says casually.

“Funny, I was just about to say the same thing about you,” you shoot back with no real bite.

He chuckles to himself, seemingly impressed before gesturing to your book.

“Didn’t peg you for a Baldwin type either,” Eddie says, eyes scanning the cover of your book.

You shrug, noncommittally, “I found a copy Beal Street sitting with a bunch of junk on my neighbor’s curb and I’ve been a fan since.”

He barks out a laugh so loud it catches everyone’s attention.

Conversation halts and you feel your bandmates’ curious gazes fall on you all at once.

“Forgive me, princess, but I have a hard time imagining you digging through other people's trash for books from what I know of you.”

“And what do you know about me, Eddie? I mean, other than the stuff Subrosa prints.”

His face falls in response.

The two of you spend the rest of your lunch in silence, pretending not to notice the way everyone else is staring.

***

JONATHAN: They ate lunch together every day after that, barely talking, reading their books. I don’t think they were friends or anything, but I did see them exchange books a few times.

It did stress Nancy out, I think, the divide. It made her think we weren’t doing enough to be “welcoming” to them. Argyle and I didn’t really care, and Robin was dealing with her on shit at the time.

***

ROBIN : Yeah, I was seeing this girl, and I was trying to keep it under wraps from well… everyone actually. Steve was a really great friend though; he would always give me rides to and from her place when I needed them.

***

JONATHAN: ...a nd Steve liked to pretend that he didn’t care but he definitely did.

ROBIN: Of course, Steve cared, are you kidding?

NANCY: We could tell it bothered him.

STEVE : Did I care that she was eating lunch with Munson and kept avoiding me outside of rehearsal? No! Of course not.

***

November 1983, Los Angeles, California

The Downsides’ debut album was released on November 6, 1983, to commercial and critical success.

People immediately took to the upbeat synth sound paired with the introspective and clever lyrics. On top of that, you and Steve were, quite literally the talk of the town.

There were entire articles in gossip magazines dedicated to parsing out details of your relationship from the song lyrics on the album and coming up with theories about what the lyrics were about.

And all of that just from a few pictures of you two holding hands. Starcourt was ecstatic, they had bottled magic.

As much as everyone wanted to celebrate, you weren’t out of the woods yet, there were still the press junkets.

A growing list of TV and radio appearances that the band was required to be at plagued Hopper who was tasked with making sure you were all present and willing at these appearances. And of course, that you didn’t make fools of yourselves or Starcourt.

The label had taken it upon itself to send everyone PR briefings—essentially a long list of things no one should say under any circumstances during interviews.

Normally, you would think a list like this was overkill but knowing some of your bandmates, it was definitely needed.

All the eyes (and the pressure) would be on you and Steve, though, everyone knew that. You two were the ‘It Couple’ everyone wanted to hear from, and you weren’t quite sure what you were going to say.

The pap photos were easy: it was just walking around or sometimes getting lunch, holding hands, and looking like you were enjoying each other’s company. Something that wasn’t difficult since conversation flowed easily between the two of you. At first, you would talk music—Steve was incredibly dedicated and knowledgeable, you quickly found out—but eventually, the two of you had branched into other topics. You learned about Steve’s life growing up in Indiana, about all his likes and dislikes, and everything about the band. He managed to pull the same information from you and you let him.

Even the physical stuff was easy, with time. In the beginning, it was an experiment of firsts. While you were pretty well-versed in the practice of feigned affection, you were used to the guy always making the first (fake) move. Most of the guys you had been "set up" with were the "act first, ask permission later" type. Steve was polite and considerate to a fault, and it took you two full dates to convince him that he didn't have to ask before holding your hand and an entire week more to work up to the kiss on the cheek. After those conversations though, touching Steve, in one way or another, had become second nature.

So much so, in fact, that it had begun to bleed into your everyday lives. It was not unusual during the time of your re-recording, to be at the studio and have Steve come up from behind you to rest his hand in the gentle dip of your waist only for you to lean back as you inhaled that scent that was uniquely him: smokey sandalwood and hair pomade.

Right around the time rehearsal started you realized that perhaps the two of you were becoming too comfortable with that type of affection, especially given how much time he spent with Robin, and you had begun to keep a subtle distance between the two of you whenever you weren’t on stage.

Steve while intelligent in his own right, had never struck you as the kind of person to pick up on subtleties, so when he brings up this distance you realize that either you severely underestimated his abilities, or you were not as subtle as you thought you’d been.

It’s a few days before the first stop of the Press Tour—An early morning slot with Wake Up, USA! —that has the two of you sitting on your couch when he brings it up. You had invited Steve over to practice answering any possible questions you may have to field together and make sure you’re on the same page.

As it turns out though, outside of music, Steve is not much for rehearsing.

“Can’t we just wing it?” Steve asks as he lies sprawled on your couch.

You huff in response, “No, we can’t just wing it. This is a big deal! This is our first time out as a couple, and we have to be believable.”

Steve scoffs at this and you raise an annoyed eyebrow in response.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs in response, “it’s just hard to act like a couple when you’ve been avoiding me for, like, the past month.”

He doesn’t sound accusatory or angry when he says this, just matter-of-fact.

“I haven’t been avoiding you,” you sputter out, weakly.

It’s his turn to raise an incredulous eyebrow at you.

“Really? Could’ve fooled me. Last time I checked you and Eddie weren’t the best of friends, but you’d rather eat lunch with him than the rest of us. You know, if you didn’t like us, you didn’t have to agree to be in the band, we would’ve understood,” he deflates as he says this last sentence and it crumples your heart just a bit.

“I like you guys,” you say quietly, nudging his leg with your knee as you do.

“Then, is it me?” He asks, voice small and eyes low.

“No, no, it’s not you, Steve,” you rush to say.

“It’s just, I’ve never really been any good at this,” you mumble, shy under his gaze.

“Good at what?” He urges gently.

“At being friends with people.”

You continue, words clunky and difficult to get out, “At being friends with someone I’m also pretending to date.

“I mean, with the rest of the guys Starcourt set me up with, I only had to tolerate them for a few weeks, at most. With us, well who knows right? Plus, I actually like you,” you wince at this uncharacteristic display of vulnerability from yourself, “I like all of you and I don’t want to ruffle any feathers or cross any boundaries and hurt anyone’s feelings.”

He chuckles at this, “Trust me, you won’t hurt my feelings by spending time with me.”

You shake your head, “It’s not you I’m worried about, Steve. There are other people.”

Steve’s brow furrows in confusion, “I’m not following.”

You are not sure what to say, now. You don’t want to call Steve and Robin out, it’s clear that they’ve been trying to keep what they have going on a secret, and you don’t want to call attention to that. You’re also afraid that if you mention him and Robin, you’ll eventually have to explain how when you see them together, your chest gets painfully tight. Pivot, you demand of yourself.

“What I mean to say is, it’s easier for me to keep everything professional when I have a little more space because I’m not really used to this friend thing. I’m sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t like you or the band. I like you all a lot, actually and I guess I’m just worried about messing that up.”

You can feel yourself retract into yourself the more you speak and by the end, your knees are tucked under your chin. You can’t bring yourself to meet Steve’s gaze.

He doesn’t respond right away, but you feel the warmth of his palm spread over the expanse of your back.

“Listen, I think… if this is gonna work, we have to be on each other’s team and part of that is talking to one another, right? And letting each other know when we're having a hard time. I want to be on your team, will you let me?” His voice swells as he asks, and you are so aware of his warmth next to you.

“Yeah,” you nod, finally meeting his eyes, “ I want to be on your team too if you’ll let me?”

He nods enthusiastically, smiling so brightly you question if the sun has ever been as bright.

“Great, now can we please practice some of these questions?” You demand, playfully.

“Or, or, and hear me out, we could go get burgers," he offers back.

You end up doing both.

***

November 13, 1983, Sunset Studios, Los Angeles, California

Call time for Wake Up, USA! was insanely early and you don’t think you’ve ever seen an angrier Hopper than one that has to be dealing with Eddie Munson at 5 AM. Eddie is decidedly, not a morning person.

“Well, aren’t you a ray of sunshine today?” You deadpan to the disgruntled guitarist from your makeup chair next to his. You were not fairing much better: not only were you running on little sleep, but you were also wound tightly with nerves about your first live interview as a band and as a couple.

“Can it, Your Majesty, or we might have a case of regicide on our hands,” he warns with no real heat behind his words.

“Isn’t it a bit too early to be throwing big words like that around, Munson?” Steve asks, from his spot on your other side.

“Don’t even know what that means,” he mutters, mostly to you.

“It means the murder of a king or queen,” you respond automatically.

“Doesn’t have to be just one, either. You could always kill more than one monarch at a time,” Eddie raises his eyebrows at Steve as he says this, making his implications very obvious.

“Wow, look at us,” Steve exclaims, grinning, “already making veiled threats at each other. We’ve finally made it, honey.”

He says this last part exclusively to you punctuating it by reaching for your hand and giving it a squeeze and you laugh.

The lightness of the exchange distracts you from your nerves for a moment. And from the way Eddie’s eyes linger on your hand interlaced with Steve’s.

Your brief reprieve is interrupted by the soft thud of a heavy object landing in your lap.

“What’s this?” You hold up a beat-up paperback to the culprit.

Eddie shrugs, “The Two Towers, Dustin finally got it back to me, took his sweet time too, that little asshole.”

You nod. He had lent you the first Lord of the Rings book weeks ago, while you were still in rehearsal after you had shown up bookless one day and you had devoured the book. You had been needling him for the second one since, but he had lent it to the audio engineer’s son, a kid named Dustin who idolized him and Steve in equal measure.

“Thanks,” you say, surprise coloring your voice, thumbing through the pages, eyes hungrily scanning the pages.

***

EDDIE: I dunno, she seemed nervous. I thought if she had something to distract her, it might’ve helped.

***

You get through the first chapter of your new book before they pull you into wardrobe.

They outfit you in a light blue dress, with exaggerated sleeves and a belt around your middle to compliment Steve’s dark blue blazer and stripped t-shirt combo.

You feel your nerves mounting as you are helped into your heels and given your mic pack. Suddenly, everything that is riding on this is suffocating you from all ends—a visceral crushing pain that you can’t shake.

Steve appears at your side and the band had been escorted onto the soundstage your hand has been tightly wrapped around his like a vice the entire time.

“Can you, uh, loosen your grip a bit, please,” Steve asks, finally.

“Right, sorry,” you say, letting go of his hand completely and instead focusing your nervous energy on straightening his lapels.

After the third time you’ve readjusted his collar, Steve grabs both of your hands in his, and pulls you close, giving you no choice but to focus on his face.

“Hey,” he says in a hushed tone, just for you, “you don’t need to worry, okay? We’ve got this. I’m on your team, remember?”

You swallow thickly, and nod, before adding, “And I’m on yours, Harrington.”

“That’s my girl,” he says sealing the exchange with a kiss on the cheek.

***

JONATHAN: That first interview, on Wake Up, USA! was what really sold them. I mean, they couldn’t keep their eyes off of each other the entire time.

And then, when one of the hosts asked them how they met, Steve told this story about seeing her for the first time from across the restaurant during our first lunch together and how he was sure he had made a total fool of himself because he was so nervous to be around someone so beautiful, of course, Steve Harrington would say something like that. The audience swooned. Hell, I swooned a little bit.

And then they asked her about all the guys from her past, which was totally fucked up by the way, but she handled it great. She said she was grateful for all the mistakes she had made in the past because they had led her to The Downsides and to Steve.

Between that interview and our live performance, the audience was hooked.

***

“Good job, you two,” Hopper says gruffly, patting you and Steve on the shoulder as you're ushered off stage after your performance.

“Thanks,” you squeak out, all the tension slowly deflating from your body after hearing Hopper’s approval.

It was done, your first live appearance complete, and it hadn’t been a total train wreck.

Actually, thinking back, it had been pretty good. There was a good variety of questions; everyone had gotten to speak; and when it came to you and Steve, well, it seemed believable at least. And the band managed to preform the new single without a hitch, all of the kinks that had plagued you during the last few weeks of rehearsals ironed out.

Maybe you could pull this off after all.

***

By the time the band had wrapped up the week-long press junket, you were exhausted.

What had taken more of a toll than the hours of sitting in makeup chairs, too-tight shoes and repetitive questions was having to pretend with Steve.

You realize now that your problem was never the risk of not being convincing enough, but instead of being too convincing.

You had spent the entire week so physically attached to Steve, that it was beginning to feel like you were one single being. Like he was an appendage you couldn’t move without.

And every kiss on the cheek, every look, every squeeze of your hand, felt like a jumpstart to your heart.

Then there were actual interview parts. Steve was good with the press. He would draw audiences and hosts alike, in as easy as if he was winding up a thread. There was never a question that would catch him off guard and he always came off boyish and genuine in his responses. Like the time he was asked what his favorite thing about you was and he told the story of you showing up at the recording studio with cookies and having the guts to change Eddie’s lyrics in the same afternoon.

You knew better than to ask if he meant it.

The next day, Hopper called to let you know that your album was breaking all sorts of records, and the label was incredibly pleased. So much so that they were thinking of increasing the tour dates and they were even starting to plan for future projects—projects that they wanted you to write.

The news didn’t make you feel light with joy like you had once hoped it would, instead, it made you feel heavy like a sinking stone.

A few weeks later, when the band went their separate ways for the Christmas break, you all knew something big was coming, you just had no way of knowing what.

***

JONATHAN: Right after New Year, Hopper pulls the band into a meeting in his office. First thing he told us was that they were announcing a tour with twice as many dates as they had originally planned for, demand was that high. Then he said, “From this point on, everything is going to move really quickly, there’s no getting off the ride now.”

Subrosa Article

PLAY NEXT TRACK 🥁

#eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x you #Eddie Munson x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson #steve harrington #rockstar!eddie Munson #nancy wheeler x jonathan byers

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love-toxin · 1 year

Note

This is golden. (Also I’m sorry this became long!!!) Angelface finding the group chat and deciding to up the ante though. Making the punishments fit the crime via teasing. Seeing how far they can go till someone makes a move on her. They wear shorter, more revealing outfits around the house, purposely turning their back, or bending over, or leaning onto the counter so their chest is squished up against their arms, and twisting their head for ages to talk to Steve, who’s trying desperately to not look at your perked out ass, long enough till you hear Robin putting her phone away after she ‘subtly’ takes a pic. Being much more ‘nosy’ to see what your roommates are doing on their phones, loving the panic that flashes across each of their faces like clockwork. Eddie literally throws his phone across the room that day. Makes sense, once you see the video taken during last nights slumber, he was uploading at the time.

Begging Steve for his special drinks, every night and day. Even after finishing one, you make sure to scoop your tongue so deeply around the cup, or the ice cream glass, getting some white whipped cream on your lips. Pulling needily on the hem of Steve’s shirt, while you beg him to make another one, because they just taste so good! And they make your tummy feel so full, for some reason. You read all his dirty little fantasies he posted, you always make sure to cup your tummy when swallowing his creations, more eagerly and noisily than before.

Asking Eddie if he can sleep in your bed tonight, and he obviously says yes, buying whatever excuse you give. You make sure to sleep in just your panties with your shirt. Cuddling up to Eddie by shuffling back closer, and being the little spoon, sitting your nearly bare ass on his thighs as you ask if this is okay. Smile facing the wall at the panicked way he says “yes!” Pretending to be ‘adjusting’ all night to get comfy, as you wriggle right into his crotch. Serves him right, how hard he has to try to not get noticeably hard. You also make sure to wear the tank top that lets your boobs roam free in your sleep, every single time.

Telling Robin you’ve got a bit of an oral fixation, making it sound like an innocent statement, for response to why now, you’re constantly randomly biting her out of nowhere. Just sinking your teeth into her shoulder, or her belly, or her arm, latching onto it and drooling around it. Mindlessly gnawing, or slobbering, for minutes. Stuffing your head deep into her lap, while you take her fingers and start nibbling on them too. You actually don’t even realise when you start sucking on them, clearly already part of your subconscious, until Robins rubbing her thighs, getting wet while you’re head is in her crotch, and you’re sucking her fingers. Having become her own Pavlovian response, that makes her want her fingers inside of her already. Her pussy leaking and throbbing, as you suckle warmly and wetly on her fingers in the quiet room. And she can’t move, because she’s scared of giving herself, and all of them, away

Asking Nancy to watch a movie with you in bed, and giving her a pillow to sit on because your ‘mattress is lumpy’. Putting on an almost porno movie though. As you watch her squirming, devolving into small humps against your pillow. She’s trying not to, but her hips just won’t stop rolling. And another day you give Nancy a very cute pout, asking if she can help you, only to tell her you think the dryers broken, because you put on your underwear and it was still wet. Pulling your skirt away to show her the panties you’re wearing, that you watched her rubbing herself in, and squirting through, in the video she shared with everyone but you that morning. You see her grab the table for relief, watching a professional smile rush across her face, smiling yourself because you get to watch your strong Nancy crumbling, as she promises she’ll get Steve to look at it for you. Leaving with a hand against her heart.

You make sure the punishments fit the crime. Until they get it, or they pounce

BROOOOOOOO I AM BITING THE TABLE!!!!!!! IM FUCKING FERAL RN UR BRAIN IS SO HUGE 😵‍💫😵‍💫💦💦💦 THROWING THEIR PHONES!!!! IM--

#i am speechless u are SO bigbrained #bye im losing my fucking mind #fruity four #fruity four x reader #perv!fruity four #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #eddie munson #robin buckley #st 4 #stranger things #ellie chats #anons

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youreobsessedwithtoomanyfandoms · 2 years

Text

I Still Love You

Words: 1193

Warnings: angst, references to sex (I think), mentions of a breakup, smoking

STRANGER THINGS Masterlist Main Masterlist

Y'all should be fully aware that me writing anything with full fluff is rare, so yes, this has fucking angst in it. Try me bitch

Can be read as a Part 2 for You Don't Love Me Anymore? and 1,000 Yellow Daisies (this is technically a part 3)

This also was originally written for my OC Drew Henderson (Find info on her/original story on this account @imnotobsessedwfictionalchracters )

I also know that this isn't that well written, it was done on my phone when I was *lowkey* overheating in my moms car while driving to my friends DCI other competition and back home last Saturday and Sunday (the 16-17thth)

I also hadn’t expected people to really enjoy the last one…so I’m gonna make an alt. version of this where reader moves on. Plus a Part 3 that is just Robin, Nancy, and Dustin wanting to MURDER Steve

Steve and other characters are PROBABLY OOC (as I suck at not being able to keep them from being OOC)

SPOILERS FOR STRANGER THINGS SEASON 4 VOL 2

Anywho, enjoy

12 hours had passed since they got back from the Upside Down. Since Eddie had died. Since Max had...well, Max was still a questionable subject. Dustin and Y/N had lied to their mom about their whereabouts. Said they were with Steve the whole time. Of course their mom wasn’t too happy that Dustin had left, but she felt better that she knew her children were together during the ‘earthquake’.

Y/N still couldn’t believe that she had made it out with just a bruised left side. Let alone alive. So perhaps that was why she was where she was. Searching through her car for a box of cigarettes. Even though she and Steve had quit together, she still kept a box. Just in case. Of course she never thought that she would need them again after Christmas, but here she was.

She let out a sound of happiness when she found it. She slipped back out of her car, ignoring the screaming pain from her left side, and took a cigarette from the box. She slotted it in her mouth and grabbed the lighter from her back pocket. She took a long drag after it lit and kicked her car door close.

They were still at the Wheelers so she stayed at her car, not in the mood to hear anyone say something about the cigarette. She laughed to herself, she felt like a silly High Schooler again. Leaning against her car with a cigarette in front of Nancy’s house. At least she wasn’t waiting for Dustin to get done with his game of DnD today.

She stared at the cigarette. She felt bad. She knew that Dustin had hated that she smoked. Mostly because it caused her clothes and car to smell afterwards. She laughed. The two times she had broken the promise, Steve was involved. First their breakup. Now this.

At least he was helpful this time.

But this time also made her realize that her feelings for him never went away. It was easier during work, pretending she didn’t love him anymore. But then the two of them in the damn van and his talk about that stupid dream of his. Or before that when he got dragged back under by the fucking Demobats and she jumped in after without a second thought. Then the entire time they were separated she was praying that he was okay. She knew full well that this wasn’t going to end well. That she would never truly be over him.

She would always fucking love Steve Harrington and it was as simple as that.

She hadn’t realized how in her thoughts she was until she jumped as she heard someone say her name. She looked up and there he was. The man who she was just cursing that she would always love. She gave him a small smile. “You okay?”

She nodded “Yeah. Just processing everything that happened.”

He nodded and then motioned to the cigarette she was bringing up to her lips. “Thought you quit.”

She laughed as she blew the smoke out. “I did. But we nearly just died, Steve. Give me a break.” He laughed and took the cigarette from her hand and took a drag himself. She smiled at him teasingly. “Thought you quit.”

He smiled and said the same as her, “We just nearly died, Y/N. Give me a break.” After a second they both burst into laughter.

Once they stopped, a comfortable silence settled between them. That was until Y/N sighed. She stared forward, towards the Wheeler home. “What happened between us Steve?”

“What?”

She looked at him, “We were doing so good. What happened that made us break up? I refuse to believe that it was just because of that stupid fucking fight over Thanksgiving.”

“Y/N--”

She stopped him, “Don’t give the ‘now isn’t the time’ because it is. It is the time Steve.”

He looked away from her and whispered, “I got scared.” She froze for a moment. Wondering if she even heard him correctly. “I got scared over that fucking fight. Scared that you...that you would realize you deserve better than me. You, who got into fucking Northwestern and chose to wait a year, deserves better than me, the one who can’t get into fucking college.”

“Steve, I--”

He sighed and brought the cigarette back to his mouth. “I fucked up. Got into my own head again. I was petrified at the thought of losing you forever because you end up finding someone better for you. Someone who won’t hold you back. Then I realized that I fucked up by breaking up with you. That first week was torture. Robin to talk to me. Nancy wanted to kill me. I was even pretty sure that if Dustin had his license, he would’ve run me over.” She laughed lightly at the last part. He gave her a soft smile, “I’m sorry. Honestly, I am.”

She took his hand in hers. “I know you are Steve.”

“You know...I actually left something out earlier, with my dream.”

She tilted her head to the side, “Hm? What did you leave out?”

“That I dream about all of it with you. The woman in it always ends up being you. No matter how many times I think it’ll be someone else. I always see you.”

She wasn’t sure why she did it, but she took her hand out of his and placed it behind his head. She pulled him towards her and kissed him. Her other hand took the cigarette from him and dropped it on the ground, stepping on it to put it out. She felt him wrap his arm around her waist and pulled her closer. She moved to where she had him caged into between her and her car. Her legs between his own. She placed her hand onto her car to keep herself steady.

And it felt all too soon when they pulled away from each other. “I always told myself that I was over you. That my feelings had gone away. But I was lying. I still love you Steve Harrington. I always have and I always will.”

He smiled, “Good. Because I still love you Y/N Henderson. Always have and always will.”

She smiled and kissed him again. This time they only pulled away when they heard Erica yelling. “If you guys are done sucking each other’s faces off, the adults want us all inside.”

She laughed as Steve shot Erica a glare. She turned back and smiled at the younger girl. “Give us a minute, Erica.”

“Whatever. We better not come back out to you two making out again.”

She laughed again as Steve’s face lit up red. She looked back at him and kissed his nose. “Let’s go back in before someone comes out to murder us.”

He looked at her softly, “Yeah, yeah we should.”

They pulled away, but not much and instantly grabbed the other's hand. And as they walked into the house, they chose to ignore the looks and sat down next to each other. Just happy that things may finally end up good between them again.

#steve #harrington #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #stranger #things #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #x reader #imagine

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apomaro-mellow · 8 months

Text

Part 4

After a few games and a few beers, Steve didn’t even notice how close Jonathan was pressing to his side. Well, he noticed. It would be more accurate to say he was less self conscious about Jonathan being that close.

“Okay, Nancy, Robin, settle something for me”, Eddie hobbled over to a family portrait and took it off the wall. “Are these the actual Harringtons?”

Nancy shrugged. “I actually never met his parents.”

Steve turned his head to look at her, mouth open in shock. “We dated for a whole year!”

“Yes and I never saw them.”

“I saw them pulling out of the driveway once”, Robin said. “But I’m not entirely sold.”

“On my parents?”, Steve questioned.

“I’m like 90% sure that was a hoax. I think pulleys were involved.”

“You guys are insane. I have parents. And there’s photographic proof. Eddie was here when they left.”

“Like Robin, I’m also not entirely sold”, Eddie said, putting the frame back. “Those could’ve been actors.”

“Why would I hire people to pretend to be my parents?”

“Because you're a Cabbage Patch Kid”, Eddie surmised.

Nancy snorted up some of her drink while Argyle simply nodded in understanding. “That explains so much man…”

“I have a birth certificate!”, Steve exclaimed.

“Just like a Cabbage Patch baby would”, Robin pointed out.

Jonathan easily slung an arm over Steve’s shoulders. “Don’t worry. I’d like you even if you were a turnip baby.”

Robin grinned. “With his head it’s more like a pumpkin baby.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Steve had been in the middle of deciding how he felt about what Jonathan had just said and whether or not it was true and why that even mattered when Robin made her comment.

“Your head is like a square dude”, Argyle said.

“Oh my god, it is”, Nancy said like the answers of the universe had been brought to her.

“Are you guys high? Is that what this is?”, Steve asked as he looked all around them.

“I’d kiss your pumpkin head too”, Jonathan said, giving Steve’s temple a kiss.

“I gotta take a leak”, Eddie said, making his way around some game pieces and heading to the bathroom.

If Steve ever felt insecure about his appearance, Eddie would’ve kissed that square head of his until he ran out of breath. He couldn’t really begrudge Jonathan since he was pretty much doing that, if a bit reserved since they were all hanging out together. When he and Steve were alone, they were probably less restrained. Probably had their hands all over each other and kissing more than just foreheads.

Eddie let out a breath and then looked down. He bit down on his knuckles. He really had went to the bathroom to piss but now he had a different problem. Turns out thinking of pretty boys kissing wasn’t conducive to NOT getting an erection. Eddie washed his hands and tucked himself away, giving himself a moment to calm down.

There were other fish in the sea. Especially compared to the very small pond that was Hawkins. He wasn’t gonna get hung up on whatever Jonathan Byers and Steve Harrington were getting up to. He was better than that. Eddie opened the door and immediately got a face full of Jonathan.

“Whoa!”

“Sorry! Sorry, I was just coming to check on you. Steve said I should, in case you get lost and I’m only now just realizing that was a joke.” The Harrington house was big but not that big.

“Yeah it was a joke”, Steve said, coming down the hall to retrieve his boyfriend.

“Don’t take it too hard Byers, Stevie here has a wit drier than a cracker”, Eddie said, giving Jonathan’s shoulder a pat.

“If that’s another jab at the shape of my head-”

“I wouldn’t dream of it my liege”, Eddie bowed with his head and moved past Jonathan to get back to the others.

Once they were behind him, he looked down real quick just to make sure his little buddy wasn’t trying to make an entrance and thankfully, it was gone. Eddie was wringing his hands as he got back to the others. That had been a close call. He really needed to reign it in when it came to those two. Eddie had thought he only needed to get over Steve but one of Wayne’s comments made him realize that Jonathan was easy on the eyes too.

Just his luck to have a crush on two guys who were all wrapped up in each other. Eddie was about to excuse himself for the evening, unable to take much more when in his hand-wringing, he realized he forgot to put one of his rings back on. He had taken them off to wash his hands and had gotten all but one back. It must still be on the sink.

Eddie turned heel to get it, making his way back to the bathroom. He was kind of hoping neither Steve nor Jonathan were using it because it’d be a little embarrassing to ask them to pass it to him while they were on the toilet but he might have to.

The next few moments felt like they were in slow motion.

Because Jonathan had Steve pressed against the door as he was kissing him.

Eddie felt like time was moving through syrup. He’s had his feelings hurt before. He’d been turned on before. Never had it happened at the same time. There was a whirlwind brewing inside him and reaching a point where it was about to burst forth. He stumbled backward, grabbing their attention. He could only take their eyes for about 2 seconds before he was bolting from the hallway.

Had somebody called his name? Probably. He had rushed from the hall and right through the door to get outside. Anyone who saw would think he had an angry mob on his tail. Eddie got to his van and drove off, not giving a thought to where he was going beyond ‘away from here’.

He did eventually stop, on a dark street corner somewhere. He really didn’t want to go back to Wayne like this. And there was no way he was going back to Steve’s house. Eddie knew eventually he’d have to make a choice, but for now, he turned off the van and moved to the back where he always kept an extra blanket and pillow. There was one thing he was good at and it was moping in the darkness.

Part 6

Tag Team

@freddykicksasses

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #stonathan #steddie #steddathan

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lonesome-witching · 10 months

Text

A Play in Three Acts

This might have been the most ambitious prompt I've gotten so far. Which is why this is quite long. Shockingly long actually. And I even tried to shorten it. Thank you for the prompt @allnewtpir. Hope this fits with what you had in mind.

You can send me prompts or find the previous ones right here.

Robin’s mom had often described her love story as a play in three acts. It was a story Robin had grown sick of. As a child she had hoped she’d be granted the same type of love story. But that was before her mother had started to sound like a broken record and long before Robin realized she’d never be granted that same fairytale. Because Robin wasn’t like her mother, she wasn’t like most girls. And while some saw that as a blessing, Robin knew it as a curse. So, she’d bury that stupid play in three acts into the depths of her memory and hoped it would fade away.

But it never did. She could still recount the three acts and how they were supposed to unfold.

Act I

The first meeting

The first time Robin met Nancy wasn’t really the first time they met. Their real first time meeting was in kindergarten when each of the children in the circle had been forced to state their name as they were introduced to each other. Nancy had been sitting neatly on her chair, her hands clasped in her lap and Robin had thought she looked so mature. She herself had sat with one leg pulled up on her chair and hugging her knee, a habit she still hadn’t gotten rid off.

But it wasn’t about that first meeting. It was about the first time they really met, the first time they actually spoke to each other, the moment they went from strangers to acquaintances.

That happened at the beginning of Christmas break 1984. Robin had been in no mood to leave the house, the cold kept biting into her skin whenever she so much as opened a window. But despite the fact her winter coat had torn at the seams, her parents thought it was a great idea for Robin to walk to the grocery store for some last minute shopping. Very last minute, seeing as her extended family was already on the way to Hawkins.

So, Robin found herself wandering around the endless isles of chips and drinks and candies. She was searching for orange juice when she noticed her. Standing in front of the fridge filled with different brands of orange juice and sodas stood Nancy Wheeler, eyes glazed over, staring at something beyond the glass.

“Are you alright?” Robin approached cautiously, keeping her voice low and kind. She never liked being pulled out of her own concentration and she probably wouldn’t have even said anything if she didn’t need the access to that particular fridge.

Nancy jumped back, her eyes now directed at Robin. She wasn’t sure whether she should be grateful or ashamed to have Nancy’s attention.

“Huh?” Nancy frowned and Robin thought she might have been crying.

“Are you alright?” Robin repeated, just as soft as before.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine.”

She didn’t look fine. “Are you sure? Because I’m not. My partners are being… they’re acting like they know how they’re supposed to act but all it’s doing is making me do stuff I don’t want to do. Like I didn’t even want to leave the house today and I begged them to not invite my drunk aunt over for Christmas but mother knows best, you know? She does whatever she likes and then pretends it’s for my own good.” Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Why was she still talking?

“Who are you?” Nancy asked and somehow Robin sensed that Nancy was wondering the same thing, why was she still talking to her?

“Robin. Robin Buckley. We have chemistry. The class. We have chemistry class together at school. Hawkins High.” She refrained herself from adding Go, Tigers to her speech.

“Right.”

“Sorry, you probably have your own holidays to get to, let me just…” She pointed her thumb toward the fridge and Nancy stepped aside.

Robin looked at the different selection of bottles. She wasn’t sure which one her cousins would prefer. At least she assumed she was buying it for the minors and not for some type of special cocktail her mom was thinking up. Those never tasted good. She noticed a bottle that looked somewhat familiar, maybe a brand her parents had bought her when she was a kid. Her hands grabbed it, all under the watchful eye of Nancy Wheeler.

She knew Nancy was still watching her, could feel those blue eyes staring holes in the side of her face, which is exactly why she continued staring at the bottle she now held in her hands.

“Robin?” Something had changed in Nancy’s voice and Robin wanted to learn what it was.

“Yeah?”

“Do you have anywhere to be right now?”

Act II

Strangers to friends

Everything had changed after that first meeting. When school started up in January, Nancy sought her out. Third period on Monday, Nancy dropped down in the seat next to Robin for their shared chemistry class with a shy smile. Robin’s own smile bright enough to light up the Christmas tree her parents forgot to take down.

“Is this okay?” Nancy had asked.

“Of course, this is great.” Robin replied and maybe she shouldn’t have sounded so eager. But her words eased the tension in Nancy’s shoulders and she really couldn’t regret anything that had that effect.

So, they sat together during chemistry. And then they started sitting together during lunch twice a week. Mondays and Thursdays, the two lunches Nancy’s boyfriend spent in the darkroom to develop pictures. And then they started sitting together during lunch all the time. Even when Jonathan sat next to her, Nancy’s attention wouldn’t waver from Robin. And then they started calling each other, late at night.

It was during those calls that Robin really got to know Nancy. Somehow the distance between them made it easier for Nancy to open up. Robin learned that Nancy wanted to become a journalist, that she’d always loved writing in any capacity but that with age and experience she had gotten addicted to diving into mysteries and unraveling them for all to see. Robin had wanted to ask about this experience but she had bitten her tongue.

She learned that Nancy didn’t like the cold. And the way she had said it made Robin wonder if there was a reason for it.

She learned that Barb hadn’t run away. The night they had that conversation they both ended up crying on the phone until they fell asleep. According to Nancy, Barb had gotten into an accident. She had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Robin didn’t want to accept this answer but she didn’t really have a choice.

She learned that Nancy was determined and stubborn and smart. She learned that Nancy didn’t see herself that same way. She learned that maybe deep down she was falling in love with Nancy.

And then summer approached and Nancy got a wonderful internship at the Hawkins Post, she had been ecstatic when she called Robin to tell her the good news, and Robin… Well, Robin had applied to every single store that had opened at the mall and had only gotten a chance from Scoops Ahoy. It hadn’t been her first choice, or her second or third, but it was a job and she needed the money.

Nancy had been sitting on the Buckley couch when Robin had gotten the call. Nancy had seen the way Robin wasn’t all that excited for her own summer endeavors. And Nancy had tried to cheer her up instantly.

And Robin had appreciated it.

It was only when she learned that Nancy had gotten Jonathan a spot at the paper that something started to burn in her chest. It hadn’t helped that she had been informed of that on the same day Steve Harrington was hired at Scoops Ahoy. She’d be spending her summer with her nemesis while Nancy and Jonathan got to live out their dream, and it stung a little.

It stung a little less when Nancy came into Scoops Ahoy on her days off. Always right around Robin’s lunch break. Always ordering a different flavor and tipping royally. Always wearing a skirt.

“And I know I shouldn’t care what they think but it’s too much for me to take at this point. It’s humiliating.” Nancy pushed a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth.

“Who said you shouldn’t care?” Robin frowned at her lunch, no ice cream for her, she’d gotten sick of the treat after two weeks.

“Jonathan. He said I shouldn’t care because they don’t know what they’re talking about but-”

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t care. I mean yeah, fuck these man for talking shit about you. You are better than them. But that doesn’t mean they should just get away with it. You’re brilliant and they should regret ever saying otherwise.”

Maybe that had been a bit too much. There would come a moment when Nancy saw right through her and maybe that would be now. Because Nancy was looking at her with her mouth slightly agape, the spoon still resting on her tongue and her eyes wide.

“Thank you. I think I really needed to hear that. Jonathan keeps telling me to suck it up because it’s such an amazing experience but I can’t just sit still and look pretty and do nothing.”

Okay maybe Robin got away with it this time.

“Don’t suck it up, Nance. Stand up for yourself. If you think there is potential in this article then write it and please, Nance, don’t give up. If Jonathan won’t stand by your side, I will.”

Nancy smiled. “Enough about me, tell me about your week. I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.”

So Robin did. “Somehow Steve is getting worse at flirting and I didn’t know that was possible. I still can’t believe he got you to date him.”

“He was different in high school, you know that.”

“Was he really that different?”

“I guess so.”

And maybe it was wishful thinking but there almost seemed to be a new glint, a new spark, in Nancy’s eyes.

Act III

Love confessions

“Have you ever been in love?” Robin wasn’t sure where the words came from. Maybe because in the back of her mind a soft voice kept chanting Nancy, Nancy, Nancy.

“Yep, Nancy Wheeler. First semester, senior year.” Steve followed the words with a sound that must be mimicking a gun. And Robin felt her own heart break.

Somehow she and Steve had become friends. Through the translations and the scheming and the Russian layer with its doctors and drugs, it really wasn’t that hard to bond.

“Oh my God, she’s such a priss.” And maybe the truth serum was wearing off because she didn’t really mean that. Nancy was more than a priss.

“Turns out, not really.”

Robin wanted to know more. But her own envy got in the way. She couldn’t bear to hear of all that Steve and Nancy had gotten up to.

“Are you still in love with Nancy?”

Please say no, please say no, please for the love of God say no.

“No.”

Oh thank God.

“Why not?” How could anyone not be in love with Nancy Wheeler?

“I think it’s because I found someone who’s a little bit better for me.” What? “It’s crazy. Ever since Dustin got home, he’s been saying ‘you know you gotta find your Suzie, you gotta find your Suzie’-“

“Wait, who’s Suzie?” Robin interrupted.

“It’s some girl from camp, I guess his girlfriend. To be honest with you, I’m not 100% sure she’s even real. But that’s not- that’s not really the point. That doesn’t matter. The point is there is this girl, you know, the one that I like, it’s somebody that I… didn’t even talk to in school.”

Oh God no, don’t say that. Robin exhaled, feeling this anxious tension crawl up her body.

“And I don’t even know why. Maybe cause Tommy H. would’ve made fun of me or… I wouldn’t be… prom king. It’s stupid, I mean, Dustin’s right, it’s all just a bunch of bullshit anyway. Because when I think about it I should’ve been hanging out with this girl the whole time. First of all, she’s hilarious. She’s so funny. I feel like this summer I have laughed harder than I have laughed… in a really long time.”

Robin couldn’t help but smile a little. She did like Steve. She liked Steve a lot. Just not like this. She had finally found her people. Nancy and Steve. And yet she had fallen in love with the first one and was about to be forced to reject the other. Life wasn’t fair.

“And she’s smart. Way smarter than me. You know, she can crack, like, top secret Russian codes and… you know? She’s honestly unlike anyone I’ve ever even met before.”

Goddamit Steve! Why?

Robin put her head in between her knees. She was going to throw up.

“Robin?” Steve knocked on the wooden stall. Robin looked up, but Steve couldn’t see that. He couldn’t see the uncomfortable smile on her face. “Robin, did you just OD in there?”

“No.” Robin sighed heavily. “I… am still alive.” Unfortunately. She took a deep breath and exhaled loudly.

And then Steve was sliding under the stall toward her.

“The floor is disgusting.” Robin said, more out of instinct than anything else. She’d never been good at keeping her mouth shut.

“Yeah, well, I already got a bunch of blood and puke on my shirt, so… What do you think?”

“About?”

“This girl.”

“She sounds awesome.”

“She is awesome. And what about the guy?”

“I think he’s on drugs, and he’s not thinking straight.”

“Really? Cause I think he’s thinking a lot more clearly than usual.”

“He’s not.” Robin prided herself on her stern gaze. “Look… he doesn’t even know this girl. And if he did know her, like- like really know her, I don’t think he’d even want to be her friend.” Was she actually doing this? Was she actually about to confess her biggest secret to Steve Harrington in the dirty Starcourt mall bathroom.

“No, that’s not true. No way is that true.” Steve leaned forward.

“Listen to me, Steve. It’s shocked me to my core but I like you. I really like you. But I’m not like your other friends.”

“Robin, that’s exactly why I like you.”

Oh God, she was actually going to do this. “Steve, earlier when I talked about being jealous and, like, obsessed, it wasn’t because I had a crush on you. It’s because you got to kiss her.”

“Who?”

“Nancy Wheeler. You got to kiss her and hold her and you got to call her yours. And all I can do is be her friend and endure the lengthy conversations about her boyfriend just so she’ll look at me. Because it might be torture to hear about Jonathan or about what things were like with you, but it is worth it for that smile on her face and that spark in her eyes. I’d give everything for her to feel that way about me.”

“What?” The door to the bathroom fell shut. Steve and Robin turned their heads towards the intrusion. There stood Nancy Wheeler for once sporting a pair of high waisted pants and a black and red striped shirt.

“Nancy?” Robin exhaled the name. “I can explain.”

“Okay.” Nancy stood there blinking at her and Robin wasn’t sure she could explain, her mind was still fuzzy.

“What are you doing here?” She said instead and maybe she should have started with that question. She crawled to her feet.

“Dustin, he radioed. He was worried. I rushed over as soon as I could. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, just injected with truth serum.” Robin chuckled uncomfortably.

“Is that why you said… what you said?”

Robin wasn’t sure what to reply. She wasn’t even sure that was why she had said it. Indirectly it surely had been the cause. So, for perhaps the first time in her life, Robin said nothing.

“Robin, do you like me?” Nancy took a careful step forward.

“Of course I like you, we’re friends. I like my friends, everyone likes their friends.” She quickly looked at Steve but saw nothing but confusion on his face.

“That’s not what I meant.” Another step.

“Oh.”

“Robin, do you like me?” Nancy repeated, slowly closing the distance between them.

Her mouth felt dry, like she had been roaming the desert instead of a Russian layer under the local mall. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t get a word out. With a resigned sigh she nodded her head.

“Oh God.” Nancy exhaled as if she had been holding her breath. “That’s good. That is so good.” She laughed softly.

“It is?” Robin croaked out.

“I thought… I thought I was imagining things. That you were just being nice when you complimented me and made grand speeches but now I know I wasn’t going crazy.”

“You weren’t.”

“I like you too, Robin.”

“You what?” Robin nearly shouted the words. There was no way. Nancy must have misunderstood her.

“I like you. You listen and you always know what to say. You know a little bit about everything, you’re so smart. You’re so beautiful. How could I not like you?” Nancy was standing close now, very close.

“But you’re Nancy Wheeler?”

“I am.”

“What about Jonathan?”

“We broke up. He didn’t understand me. Not like you do.” Nancy was staring up at her through her lashes. And then she was leaning in, closing the last bit of distance between them and pressing her lips against Robin’s in a featherlight kiss.

“Oh my God, I’m never going to hear the end of this.” Steve groaned.

“What?” Robin had almost forgotten he was there.

“I’ve been flirting with girls all summer and they’ve all turned me down. You flirt with one girl and she ends up kissing you. We both know you are never shutting up about this, Robin.”

Nancy laughed as she intertwined their hands.

#prompts #ronance #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #my work #stranger things #fanfic #robin x nancy #nancy x robin #ronance fic #ficlet

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