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weasel-b33 · 2 days

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omg i am sick. i am sick over blondie and steve it is not okay.

this should’ve never been posted. how am i supposed to WAIT UNTIL THE NEXT CHAPTER AFTER THIS. GOD THEY ARE SO DOWN BAD FOR EACH OTHER!!!

CAN ONE OF THEM COMMUNICATE. NO THEY CANT BECAUSE OF ALL THE TRAUMA THEY HAVE BOTH GONE THROUGH AND THE FEELINGS AND THE SHIT THEY ARE AFRAID OF BEINF HURT

they’d rather sit silently and suffer than voice their true feelings in fear of the rejection and hurt. LIKE BLONDIE IS ME I AM HER GOD. PAIN. PAIN PAIN.

“He keeps coming back to you, that’s what matter most” this killed me. i’m dead. buried. the LONGING. the absolute devastation that like brought me. i gagged. because having him like this even if it’s painful is better than not having him at all (sick and twisted)

AND THEN THEM PLAYING HOUSE LIKE GIVE BLONDIE A RING AND SOME BABIES STAT STEVEN!!

(i am so ready for the lovie dovie blondie and steve moments like i need them to confess already. we are al tiredddd)

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter fourteen ⭐︎ Somewhere in these eyes, I'm on your side.

Warnings: fluff, lots and lots fluff, just a teeny tiny bit of angst, just a bunch of tooth rooting sweetness

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: On a rainy Thursday, something shifts between you and Steve, something you can not see yet, while Steve gets lost in a glimpse of the future he could feel on this day.

Word count: 9k+

Author's note: @hellfire--cult thank you for helping me as always, roe. especially with the last bit, you're the bestest ♡ Steve's shower scene was fully written by her so give her some loveeee

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter

♡

The rain paddles against your windows softly, the sun is hidden behind the heavy dark clouds, and the light wind rustles the trees outside. You didn’t close the blinds last night, but it doesn’t matter anyways, it’s dark and gloomy outside.

The soft covers touch your bare skin, the smell of cologne is heavy in the air, along with the smell of sex that still lingers after the previous night.

The weight of his arm keeps you in place, keeps you close, he is making your heart flutter in this early morning hour already.

He is facing you, just as you are facing him. His palm rests on your lower back, his legs tangled with yours underneath the sheets. He pulls you closer when you try to move, tightening his hold on you, but he is still so fast asleep. His lashes look so much longer when his eyes are closed, his features are completely relaxed, he is breathing softly, his heart beats against your palm as you keep your hand close to it.

You eye the moles on his skin and the scars on his body.

Your hands always itch to touch him, to graze his skin with the tips of your fingers, and you can do so when he’s fast asleep and unaware of your loving touches.

You raise your hand up to his face, pushing away the curl that hangs loosely over his forehead. Your touch is light as a feather as you trace the bridge of his nose, and his cheek, before you return your hand back to his chest, freezing when a sigh falls from his lips and he stirs in his sleep, pulling you tighter against him in the process before he sinks deeper into the pillows, eyes still shut and heart still beating softly.

You breathe out and relax when he continues sleeping deeply.

You don’t want to get caught admiring him, and touching him like this, when only a few days ago, you feared that you would lose him after Eddie confronted you both.

You cried yourself to sleep that night.

His words cut deep, and the fear of losing him added to the hurt. You weren’t ready to lose this, you weren’t ready to lose him, and you thought that you were so very close to it until he showed up the next morning, and asked if things would stay the same between you and him now that someone found out.

The weight that stayed on your shoulders nearly crushed you, but he took it off you, and without realizing that he did, he took some of your worries too, just not the pain, and the mark he left on your heart with a few simple words. But it didn’t matter, because kissing him and feeling his touch again, was all that mattered, to know that it wasn’t over just yet… that mattered.

You can hide the sadness and the pain when he holds you like this, you can even forget about it… momentarily.

You forgot about it last night, when he kissed your neck and he marked your skin, when he unraveled you with his tongue and the touch of his hands, when he split you open and kissed you like you were his, when he looked into your eyes and he held your wrist as the tips of his fingers touched your palm, like he wanted to entwine them with yours and feel you closer and closer as you were chest to chest and his lips moved with yours like none have ever did before.

Shivers run down your spine, and butterflies dance in your stomach when the sound of his voice calling out your name echoes in your mind.

You might not be the one for him. And you know that there might be others, but you don’t even want to let your mind go there, just the mere thought of it, fills you with nausea. He keeps coming back to you, that’s what matters the most to you. You know that you can give him so much more than anyone else ever could. If only he let you. If only there was a chance.

You nearly jump from the bed when the ringing of the doorbell pulls you out of your thoughts, and it echoes through the quiet house.

Your eyes widen, and your heart starts pounding as panic settles deep in your chest. You stare at Steve, who is peacefully asleep, still.

You flinch at the second ringing.

“Fuck,” you whisper when you remember the burgundy car in your driveway. There is no reason for Steve to be at your place so early in the morning. There is no believable explanation either, what will you say to whoever it is on the other side of the door?

If this is one of your friends, you are screwed, so screwed.

You know, as a matter of fact, that it isn’t Eddie – he wouldn’t show up this early unless it was an emergency, and even then, he’d be in your room by now.

“Steve,” you whisper, trying to shake him awake, but he only grumbles in his sleep and hides his face further into the pillows.

You sigh.

You push his arm off and escape his embrace. You throw the covers off, and jump up from your bed, standing in only your underwear for a moment as you search for your clothes, you reach for his shirt instead and throw it on, before you rush out of the room, trying to fix your messy hair as you run down the stairs.

You don’t have much time to come up with lies and excuses as to why Steve’s car is in your driveway, whoever it is on the other side of the door, is getting a little impatient.

“I’m coming,” you grumble and unlock the front door before you rip it open, holding your breath.

“Finally!”

You sigh out in relief, rolling your eyes at your own panic. You step aside and open the door a little wider.

“What took you so long?” Your sister murmurs as she steps inside and brushes past you. She is carrying a bag in one hand and the bright pink baby carrier your baby niece is currently sleeping in.

All your annoyance leaves your body right this second, your eyes soften and a smile appears on your face.

“Hello to you too, Twinkie.”

She rolls her eyes at your nickname but pulls you in for a side hug after dropping the bag on the ground.

“Give me her,” you smile as you take the carrier from her arm, and carry it into the living room, smiling as you eye the little features of the baby girl. You put the carrier down on the couch. “Hi Francine,” you whisper, gently tapping her tiny nose. “She’s so big already!”

Your sister laughs as she follows you into the living room after kicking off her shoes, “you’ve seen her last week, I don’t think she grew much.”

“She kind of did,” you whisper, taking Francine’s tiny hand. “They grow so fast.”

Your sister walks over to the window, peeking outside, she clears her throat, “do I wanna know whose car that is?”

You glance over your shoulder and swallow nervously.

You’re glad that her memory is awful.

Everyone knows who is driving the burgundy BMW, and your sister still lived in Hawkins when he got it. She should know who it belongs to.

Her lips curl into a smirk, and she wiggles her brows, “casual hook up, or… is it something serious?”

You know that she has been waiting for this day.

It is something serious, to you.

It is something serious when he holds you closely and kisses you softly, when his eyes soften and his lips curl into a smile at the sight of you.

It is something serious when your heart flutters every time his knuckles brush against yours.

It is something serious when you fall asleep in his arms and wake up in the very same spot.

It is something serious when you keep falling and falling with no end in sight.

Will you ever stop falling in love with him?

Will there ever be a moment where your feelings and your love will stop at one level, or will you continue falling harder every passing moment?

Your sister raises her eyebrows, lips curling into an even bigger smile, when she notices the flustered look on your face, the dreamy look in your eyes.

“Something serious, huh?”

You blink.

Staring at her, with your cheeks now feeling warm… way too warm, you shake your head quickly.

“N-No.”

You curse inwardly, for giving yourself away so easily with your stuttering and your blushing. That’s not how you ever reacted before when she mentioned any of your hookups.

She grins at you, wiggling her eyebrows, “mhm sure, Daisy.”

You roll your eyes at her teasing glances, but the nickname makes you smile.

Out of all the flowers, your mom loved Daisies the most, she would put the dainty flowers in your braids, and behind your ear whenever you were out in the garden. You would pick them for her and make little bouquets to surprise her with.

She always called you her little Daisy.

Your sister picked up on that nickname, though she used it to mock you at first when she went through a weird phase of hating flowers – which is really ironic considering the flower shop she ended up working at when she moved to the city.

She could’ve given you another nickname, something silly – something like the name you gave to her, but she spared you, luckily.

“Shut up, Twinkie,” you mumble, as you look back at your niece, who is beginning to stir in her sleep, her long lashes fluttering as small noises escape her mouth. “As happy as I am to see this little bean, why are you here at uh,” you pause, turning your head to look at the clock on the wall, “ten in the morning?” You ask.

She makes her way over to you, a sweet smile appearing on her face, as she gives you her best puppy eyes.

“I was hoping that you could look after Francine?” She asks, still smiling. “Lisa is getting married soon, and she asked me to go wedding dress shopping with her, I can’t take her, we’ll probably be out all day, and I can’t wait for Ethan to get home, his shift won’t end before–”

“It’s fine, I’ll look after her,” you interrupt her, despite the slight nervousness that rises up in you.

You have no experience with babies at all, you have given her the bottle, you even changed her diaper, but your sister was around, and you didn’t spend the whole day alone with her.

She sighs in relief, she puts her hand on your shoulder, “oh thank you!”

“Don’t mention it, I’d never say no to hanging out with my favorite girl.”

“You need to spend more time with her anyways, you coming once a week isn’t enough!”

You frown at your sister, “you’re the one who moved away!”

She waves her hand at you, walking around the couch, she walks over to the carrier, “she always does that little scrunch with her nose before she wakes up.”

You smile, watching as she leans in to place a gentle kiss to her daughter’s cheek.

“Okay,” she whispers, pulling back to look at you, “I put everything into the bag, diapers, bottles, formula, a change of clothes in case her diapers leak, and uh… pacifiers. And uh, you know if she cries just lie down with her and put her on your chest, she loves cuddles.”

You nod, “yeah, I know, I haven’t forgotten. I got this.”

“Yeah you do, Daisy. And if you need help, just call Eddie–”

“Are you kidding?” You laugh, shaking your head as amusement flashes in your eyes.

Eddie and Max were there, the last time your sister showed up with her husband and little Francine.

While the redhead was rather excited to hold the little girl, Eddie felt too afraid to even touch her, and he nearly gagged when Max chased him with a dirty diaper.

“He looked at her like he was scared of her!”

Your sister laughs, “yeah, right. Okay, so not Eddie then, I’m sure Max would love to help though, or maybe someone else – but I’ll get going now, I promise, I’ll make it up to you, you got this, Daisy.” She smiles, ruffling your hair, she leans down to look at her daughter one more time, “bye bug, I’ll see you soon,” she whispers and squeezes her tiny foot before she steps away. “Okay, I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, see you later, Twinkie.”

The moment the front door is slammed shut, you let out a long sigh, and throw your head back against the pillows on your couch. You bring your hand up to your face and pinch the bridge of your nose.

You are still tired, and it seems as though Steve is still sleeping soundly.

You want nothing more than to return back to bed and sink into your pillows again.

You definitely won’t get any sleep now, but you still get up and slowly lift the baby carrier, hoping that the movement won’t wake her up. You try to be careful as you make your way out of the living room and up the stairs.

When you walk into your room, you find Steve now laying on his stomach, his face buried in your pillow. The sheets are low on his body, his whole back is exposed.

The tiny cooing sounds from inside the carrier, cause your lips to curl into a big smile. You place it down on your carpet, and kneel down, giggling when you’re met by her big eyes. She starts wiggling around when she sees you.

“Hi little angel,” you whisper, and lean closer to unfasten the safety belts, before you lift her up from the carrier, placing your right hand behind her head, you pull her into your chest, her hand instantly reaches for your hair, clasping her tiny fingers around it, she makes you laugh when she starts pulling it, making happy noises while she does so.

You sit down on your bed, and lift your legs up, scooting back until you’re resting against the pillows behind you. You pull the covers over your lower body.

A small squeal leaves her mouth.

“Shh, someone’s sleeping,” you whisper, tapping her little nose, glancing at Steve who is starting to stir in his sleep.

You place her on your lap, and giggle at the cuteness as she stretches her little legs out. “That’s a cute onesie,” you whisper, rubbing her belly, “I bet you picked that yourself didn’t you? Pink is a pretty color on you, princess.”

She babbles and wiggles around as she stares at you with her big eyes.

Your voice, and the small coos pull Steve out of his deep sleep, his mind is still in a haze, his eyes still closed.

“Da da da.”

Your giggle follows the tiny voice.

Steve scrunches his brows together, gripping the pillow underneath him, he slowly opens his eyes and looks at your side of the bed, his lips part and his eyes widen completely, something in his chest stirs strongly as he stares at the sight in front of him.

He is still sleeping.

He is still dreaming.

A smile is resting on your face, eyes lightened up as you entertain the little baby girl on your lap, a pink bow around her head, big eyes resembling your own as she stares at you with a smile on her face, her hair color is the same as yours.

Steve swallows the lump that grew in his throat, warmth settles in his chest, surrounding his heart and filling it with something, with adoration.

His eyes soften when you lean down to kiss her forehead, squishing her tiny cheeks.

“You’re the prettiest girl, Francis,” you whisper, using her nickname.

His lips curl into a smile, despite the confusion that still lingers in his features.

This is surely one of his dreams, he is convinced of it, why else would he wake up beside you, and a baby who looks like you?

But when you turn to face him, and the little girl follows your movement, looking at him with wide eyes, he isn’t so sure anymore.

He blinks, watching as you reach for Francis’s little arm, waving her tiny hand at him, “say hi Steve.”

The little girl babbles even louder, making a grabby hand at him.

Steve smiles at her, raising his hand up, he waves at her.

You can’t help but laugh at the lost and confused look on his face, his brows are pulled together, his lips parted as he looks between you and your niece.

He turns around on his back, and pushes himself so he’s leaning against your headboard, adjusting the cover, he pulls it up higher. He looks around the room, before his eyes return to the two of you, he runs his fingers through his messy hair, eyes flickering back and forth.

Your lips tug into a smirk, you can tell that he doesn’t understand a thing right now.

You look at him, as you pull your niece closer, holding her up, you press her against your chest, “can you believe that we made a baby overnight?”

You almost burst into laughter when his brown eyes widened with pure shock, and he choked a little.

He blinks, shaking his head, “I know I just woke up, and I’m still sleepy… but… I still kind of remember biology.”

Francine makes another grabby hand at him, “ma ma.”

“I dunno, but I’m pretty sure she just called you mama.”

Steve’s cheeks heat up, and he turns away from you, looking around your room again before his eyes catch the picture on your nightstand, the one of you and your sister. Oh.

“Ah… Your niece,” Steve murmurs as he looks back at the two of you.

“Good morning, Harrington,” you giggle. Francine copies your giggle, and Steve can’t help but smile. “Oh you like that name, huh? It’s funny isn’t it? Harrington.” Her little eyes crinkle, and she starts babbling with a laugh. Steve keeps her eyes on her, smiling at the little girl.

“That’s Francine,” you smile, introducing your niece to him.

Steve lifts his hand up, waving his fingers at her, “hi Francine, I’m Steve.”

She squirms in your arms, making happy noises as she blinks at him. Steve chuckles, he scoots closer to you, and he lifts his hand, and touches her tiny one. Francine wraps her hand around his finger, gripping it tightly, making his smile even bigger.

“Is your sister here?” He asks, without looking away from the little girl.

You shake your head, “no, she asked me to babysit today. So uh… I’ll be busy with my girl here today.”

The urge to stay here with you, and this cute little mini you, feels so strong.

“Want me to help?” Steve asks.

You’re a little stunned by his question, and can only stare in surprise.

“Huh?”

“I mean, I don’t mind staying to help,” Steve shrugs, glancing at you for a second before he gives his attention back to Francine, who stares at him in awe.

The thought of spending a whole day with Steve, taking care of a baby with him, sounds like heaven.

The only reason why he’s ever even around you without the group is because of sex, and that only. You don’t meet up just to watch movies, cook together or anything else, you only meet up for one thing, that’s all.

The fact that he is willing to just spend time with you, without expecting anything to happen baffles you a little.

“I-I… Do you really want to stay?”

He nods.

“Not much of a choice, to be honest,” he murmurs with a fond smile on his face as he gestures to your niece who is still holding his finger tightly.

“O-Okay,” you whisper, shakily as nervousness and excitement rise up in you.

“She’s so adorable,” Steve whispers, chuckling when Francine babbles at him, “she looks like you.”

You smile before you realize what he just said, and heat rushes to your cheeks.

She’s so adorable, she looks like you.

“I-I uh,” you stutter, trying to keep your cool, “so you’re gonna stay then?”

“Yeah, I’d love to hang out with Blondie and mini Blondie over here,” he chuckles as he taps her nose.

Your heart could burst right then and there, your cheeks feeling incredibly hot the longer you sit here and stare at him.

“Cool,” you say with a small voice as you suddenly feel the need to escape for a moment, “would you mind looking after her for a moment then? I wanna take a quick shower or else I’ll walk around looking like a bum all day.”

Steve turns to look at you, he takes in the sight of your messy hair, and the shirt on your body, only now noticing that it’s his. His insides tingle, and his lips curl into a smile.

You look like a cute bum. He almost blurts out, but bites his tongue.

“Sure, go ahead, me and Francine are just gonna hang out, right?”

She squeals in response, making jumpy movements.

You both laugh at her.

You lay her down beside him, and tickle her belly, giggling when she starts kicking her feet, “alright, I’ll be right back, angel.”

Steve doesn’t even notice how big his smile is, how soft his eyes are as he stares at you, how warm the feeling in his chest is.

“She might roll over on her belly, and if she gets a little fuzzy just pick her up, she loves snuggles. I’m gonna be quick.”

Steve scoots closer to Francine, leaning his elbow on the pillow, he rests his head against his palm, and glances at you, “it’s fine, take your time, I’m just gonna chat with her.”

Francine is still kicking her feet and waving around with her little arms.

“Oh yeah, she’s very talkative,” you giggle, and get up from the bed, you walk over to your dresser and pick out some clothes to change into. As much as you would love to wear his shirt all day, he needs it himself – although, you wouldn’t mind him walking around shirtless.

Once you get everything you need, you turn back to take a look at them, and you nearly melt into a puddle when you see the way she is still clutching his finger, kicking her legs and babbling something to him, while he watches her with a smile on his face.

“O-Okay, I’ll be right back.”

You leave the room in a haste, but Steve doesn’t even notice, too busy staring at little Francine. He adores the resemblance of you, and the color of her eyes that matches yours, she truly looks like you.

Steve can’t remember the last time he saw or even held a baby, he’s not sure if he ever even held one. He was ten when one of his cousins was born, but he didn’t care to hold him back then.

Francine keeps making a grabby hand at him, while she tugs at his finger, starting to get fuzzy after a few minutes pass without your presence in the room.

He sits up straighter and pulls the blanket up higher, he reaches for one of your throw pillows and places it on his lap.

“Alright Francine,” Steve whispers, he takes a deep breath and furrows his brows in concentration as he carefully lifts her up, supporting her head with his palm, he pulls her closer and lays her down on the soft pillow.

She coos and starts blowing bubbles, making Steve laugh.

“Oh, you’re so adorable,” he smiles, pulling her a little closer, “did you pick that bow today?” He asks, eying the headband around her little head.

She makes a few grunting noises, though looking at him with a happy look on her face.

“Your auntie loves those bows too, she puts some in her ponytails sometimes,” Steve says, talking to her as though he will get more than just a few babbles from her. “I bet you’re gonna steal them from her someday–”

Prrrrrrrrrrrrrrt

Steve’s face pales at the sound, his eyes widen.

The noise that came from her diapers sounded more than just air.

“Oh fuck,” he mumbles before his eyes widen further at the curse word that just left his lips, “I shouldn’t have said that, shit– I mean, I’m sorry, please forget what I just said,” he rambles, as though she understood a single thing that he said.

Francine babbles, kicking her feet into his stomach with a happy squeal.

“Um,” he panics, looking around the room, “Blondie!?”

“What Steve!?” You call from the bathroom, “it’s been five minutes!”

“I uh–” He mumbles, scratching the back of his neck as he furrows his brows, “code red…?”

You nearly laugh at his choice of words, you only ever used code red in the upside down, for the real emergencies.

You can already guess what happened, and it only makes your amusement grow bigger. You quickly put your clothes on, and brush your hair before you make your way out of the bathroom and back to them.

“Okay, I’m here,” you announce, placing his shirt that you stole earlier on your bed, you walk over to his side, and take a seat beside him, “that was the quickest shower of my life.”

He gets a whiff of your vanilla body wash, of the mint from your toothpaste, and the smell of perfume that lingers in your hair, making his chest flutter.

“She uh– I think she needs a diaper change.”

“Oh,” you laugh, “that’s what you’re panicking about?”

Steve glares at you.

“You wanted to help,” you shrug as you get up again, making your way out of the room again to get the bag with Francine’s stuff. “You gotta learn how to change diapers, Harrington!”

Steve huffs nervously, “no big deal right?” He whispers to Francine.

“Da da da.”

“Yeah,” Steve laughs, “right.”

You come back into the room, and put the bag on the ground, picking out new diapers, wet wipes, baby powder and the spare onesie, along with the thin baby towel that you spread out on your mattress.

“Alright, Lego head,” you raise your eyebrows at him, “do you wanna practice for your future nuggets or are you scared of baby poop?”

He snorts, shaking his head at you.

“No, I’m not scared of baby poop.”

You walk over to them both and lean down before him, you pick Francine up, and scrunch your face up, “yeah, you really need a diaper change, angel.”

Steve watches as you carry her over to the other side, placing her down on the towel you spread out. You undo the buttons of her onesie, smiling at the little girl.

“Well, come on,” you giggle at him, “it’s an experience you gotta make, Steve.”

Steve takes a deep breath, he throws the pillow off his lap and removes the cover. He gets up from the bed, standing there in his boxers for a moment, until his eyes find the sweatpants he discarded last night, he quickly throws them on, along with the shirt you wore earlier.

“Alright,” he murmurs, running his fingers through his hair, he walks up beside you, “just tell me what to do.”

You chuckle at his nervousness, you place your hand on his shoulder, “don’t worry, if Max was able to do it, you can do it too.”

A breathy laugh falls from his lips.

You guide him, giving him a little step by step of what to do.

You watch the way his brows knit together, and the way he is nodding to himself as he follows your words.

He doesn’t even look disgusted when the smell hits him, he only chuckles at the way Francine continues babbling happily.

“She’s a happy baby, isn’t she?”

You nod, smiling down at your niece, “yes she is.”

You hand him the new diapers and the baby powder, before you put the used wipes into the dirty diaper, roll it up carefully and throw it into the trash in your bathroom before you return to your room.

“How old is she?”

“She’s gonna be three months old tomorrow,” you say, smiling as you step up beside him again.

Steve raises his eyebrows at Francine, “oh, you’re gonna be a big girl tomorrow?” He jokes as he tickles her belly, making her laugh.

The smile on your face widens, the feeling in your chest growing stronger and brighter.

Her small giggles, and the fond smile that rests in his tired features spark something deep inside of you, a warming and comforting feeling appears as you watch him take care of her with careful and slow movements.

“Is that okay?” He asks you, gesturing to the diapers he put on her, “or is it too tight?”

You lean closer to him and check the pressure, “no, that’s perfect, Steve.”

“It is?” He asks, surprised.

You nod, and start to put her onesie back on, “yeah, I don’t even know what you panicked about, you’ve done a better job than me, I didn’t know what I was doing the first time,” you laugh. “You did good, Lego head.”

A dimpled grin appears on his face, despite the redness in his cheeks.

“I-I think caring for a bunch of kids that turned into teens turned me into a natural, even babies. I mean, Dustin counts as a baby, doesn’t he?” He jokes, watching the way your eyes crinkle and your lips spread before you burst into giggles.

Francine watches you with big eyes before she copies your giggles like before.

Steve’s eyes light up, as he watches you both.

The warmth in his chest spreads, as happiness rises up in him.

After adjusting her clothes and the bow on her head, you pick her up into your arms, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

You don’t even notice just how soft the look in his eyes, how the ghost of a smile now lingers on his lips, as he stares at the both of you in awe, watching the way Francine buries her face in the crook of your neck, and you keep a gentle hand on the back of her head.

“Do you want some breakfast? I can make you something after I give this princess her bottle, I think she’s getting tired again.”

Steve’s heart thumps strongly in his chest, he can’t deny the emotions of adoration in him as he looks at you with the baby on your arm.

“I can make you a breakfast sandwich or anything else you want.”

Steve blinks.

“Uh, you don’t have to make anything for me, Blondie. I can make you something though.”

You shake your head, “no, you’re my guest, I’ll make you breakfast, and you can feed her if you want.”

“Okay,” he says with a sigh, nodding his head, “I’ll make you lunch or dinner though.”

“Oh, are you gonna woo me with your cooking skills now?” You giggle.

He looks down with a smile, “I promised I would, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did.”

Francine clasps her fingers around your hair again, pulling it stronger than before, making you wince a little.

“Okay, okay, someone’s getting a little grumpy now. I’m gonna go make her the bottle.”

“I’ll be right there with you, I’m just gonna go brush my teeth real quick,” Steve gestures to your bathroom, “do you need me to carry the bag down?”

“No, it’s fine, it’s not heavy,” you say as you step towards him, “but can you help me put it on my shoulder?”

“Yeah, of course.”

He grabs the bag and steps towards you, putting the strap around your shoulder. His eyes soften yet again, when he sees you looking down at your niece, smiling as she blinks at you with her big eyes.

Steve doesn’t even notice that his hand still lingers on your shoulder, or that he’s rubbing your back, he is too in awe of the two of you, and that feeling stays with him, even when you leave the room and go downstairs, even when he goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face, he stares at his reflection in the mirror, and he can’t even unsee the happiness and the relaxation in his features, but he decides to pay no mind to it.

When he joins you downstairs, he finds you in the kitchen, finishing up on Francine’s bottle, you’re shaking it, while whispering something to her as you’re still holding her in your arm, still.

Steve doesn’t know what it is, but the sight before him, makes him freeze in his spot.

As you stand there in your kitchen, with a smile on your lips, and a look of adoration in your eyes, you’re cooing at your niece, giggling every time she babbles something at you, he realizes something.

You are comfortable, right now.

You’re in your home, away from the eyes of strangers, hidden from the world that you have only shown one side of yourself to, your walls are down, you are just yourself, and there is no shame behind your eyes, because all your attention goes to someone you adore and love, and don’t feel the need to hide from.

Your eyes shine brightly, your features are relaxed in a way they have never been before, and your smile is so genuine, so real.

You’re talking to her with a small and gentle voice, you hold her tightly against your chest – and you… god you look so beautiful like this.

You look so beautiful with a baby in your arms.

Warmth spreads across his whole body, he likes the sight in front of him, he likes it so much that it should scare him, but it doesn’t.

“There he is, Francis,” you smile, glancing at Steve, you don’t even notice how frozen in place he is, how heaven struck he looks, “are you ready to give her the bottle?”

Steve blinks, snapping out of his mind, he nods at you with a blush on his cheeks.

You brush past him, and gesture for him to follow you into the living room, after you grab the cloth from the counter.

You place the bottle on the coffee table, and wait for him to take a seat on the couch.

“Alright, you gotta tell me what to do,” Steve says nervously, as he sits down, “I’ve never done this before.”

“Don’t be nervous, you got this,” you assure him.

You step between his legs, and lean down to place Francine into his arms.

Without needing to be told, he cradles the back of her head, as he gently pulls her into his arms, a smile spreading on his lips when her big eyes look into his.

“Okay,” you whisper and put the cloth under her chin, adjusting it over her clothes in case a little accident might happen.

“Am I holding her correctly?” Steve asks, looking up at you.

The side of her face is nuzzled into his chest, the back of her head resting in the crook of his arm. You didn’t even need to guide him, he truly is a natural.

“Yeah,” you smile, “you’re doing great.”

You hand him the bottle, and sit down beside him.

“Did you test the temperature?” Steve asks, and you almost want to laugh at his question.

“Yeah Steve, I did.”

He nods at you.

With a chuckle, you pull your feet up onto the sofa and sit on your knees, turning your body towards them.

“Okay, now gently place the teat into her mouth and slowly tilt the bottle, she will do the rest.”

He furrows his brows, poking his tongue through his lips, he focuses on your niece as he follows your words.

You watch him closely, how soft and concentrated his eyes are, how careful his movements are, how small she looks in his arms, how sweet the sight of them is.

Francine raises her little arm, and places her tiny hand on the bottle as she starts sucking on the teat, small noises falling from her.

“Oh my god,” Steve whispers, the biggest smile you have ever seen, now glowing in his features as he looks at her in awe, “she’s the cutest little bean.”

“Yeah, she is,” you smile and tilt your head as you watch them, the fluttering feeling in your chest sparking.

Her eyelashes flutter, her big eyes still staring into his.

“I’m gonna cry, Blondie,” Steve murmurs, adoring the little human in his arms. “She's so tiny and adorable.”

You move closer and reach for the corner of the cloth, wiping away the bit of milk that rolls down her chin.

“You’re gonna have one of those someday too.”

Steve smiles at your words, nodding as he whispers “hopefully.”

But he doesn’t notice the way your own smile falls, the way your eyes sadden for a moment, the way you look down and blink away the feelings you don’t want him to see. And he doesn’t realize how quiet you get, he is too distracted by Francine and the thoughts in his head, the pictures of a future he longs for so badly.

Only when the bottle is empty and he removes it, does he turn back to you, but still too blinded by his mind to see the look in your eyes. You take the bottle from his hand, and place it back on the coffee table.

“You gotta hold her against your chest now,” you tell him and remove the cloth from her body, you place it on his chest instead, “and gently pat her back so she can burp.”

You guide him again, helping him hold her correctly as he places her against his chest, he puts his hand on her back, and starts patting gently.

“Is that good?”

“Yeah,” you whisper and scoot closer to him, you reach for her tiny hand, caressing it as you watch her with a smile on your face, “she’s tired.”

“Yeah, pooping must’ve been really exhausting,” Steve jokes, making you giggle.

“Yeah, totally–”

A loud burp falls from her mouth.

“Oh that was a big one,” Steve chuckles as he stops patting her, “you did good, bug.”

“She didn’t even spit, she usually does a little, wow you really do have magical hands,” you chuckle, and remove the cloth from his shoulder.

“Told you, I’m a natural,” he smiles proudly.

You roll your eyes playfully.

“Do you want me to take her now?” You ask.

He shakes his head at you, “can I hold her for a while?”

Confusion flashes in your eyes. You know how badly he needs his coffee in the mornings, it’s one of the first things he does after he wakes up, going into the kitchen to brew his beloved morning coffee. He didn’t even take a single sip yet, but he doesn’t seem to mind, he is too in awe of the baby on his chest.

Realization replaces the look in your eyes – he is entering a baby fever trance, with your niece nonetheless. It makes your smile reappear, that’s how you feel too, every time you get to spend time with her.

“Of course,” you whisper, as your gaze softens.

Francine’s eyelashes flutter, her blinking getting slower and lesser.

“She’s gonna pass out though, you should sit back a little so she can lay on you.”

He nods at your words, placing one hand on her back and the other under her bum, he lays back slowly, his lips twitching into a small smile when he sees her already falling asleep. She scrunches up her nose as she nuzzles her face into his chest, making you both laugh when she suddenly throws her hand up, managing to catch onto a strand of his hair.

She wiggles around for a moment, before her eyes start falling shut.

“And she’s out,” Steve whispers, chuckling to himself. “I wish I could fall asleep this fast.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Her cheek is squished against him, she’s breathing softly now, her hand falling from his hair and onto his shoulder, her little headband beginning to slip off.

You reach out to take it off her head slowly, and lean in to place a soft kiss on her forehead, unaware of the fond smile on Steve’s lips, or the feelings that rush through him because of you.

“I’m gonna go make some coffee and breakfast now,” you mumble as you pull away, and get up from the couch, grabbing the bottle and the cloth.

Steve’s eyes follow you as you walk over to the TV stand, and grab the remote, handing it to him, “you can watch something if you want, it won’t disturb her, she’s a heavy sleeper.”

“I’m good, I’ll watch her for now,” he whispers.

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” you say, and give him a smile before you leave the room.

A genuine smile.

You smiled at him before, countless of times actually, but he could never tell what was real and what wasn’t, what was genuine and what was forced or just sarcastic. But this, this was a real smile, and there was no second meaning behind it. You just smiled at him, naturally. It makes him feel… happy, and as he looks down at the little girl that has your features, he realizes something.

The feeling in his chest was never for nothing, it was never false or misleading.

It was just as real as the smile you blessed him with.

Suddenly, everything before him doesn't seem as dull and colorless as it did all these past months and even years, something sparks before his eyes and he can see again, he can feel something besides the never ending gnawing in his chest and the restlessness in his bones, the fears that nestled deep into his soul. He finally sees something other than the darkened clouds and the red lights that keep flashing before his eyes.

A light that keeps peeking through every once in a while is on the verge of breaking through, making the walls around him rattle as the foundation starts to crumble, one brick at a time starts falling into an abyss.

A future lays before his eyes, calling out to him and waiting to be grasped, an echo, a whisper, a glimpse of what could be if things were only different.

For the rest of the day, Steve feels as though he had fallen into a pleasant dream, a world where it’s only you and him, a little girl that made him realize just how badly he wants to have a family of his own – he already knew that he wanted it, but he pictured the wrong person by his side, a person he no longer even wanted.

He was blinded by old feelings, and the wish to have something real again, when it never even was to begin with.

The feelings that are sparking in him now, feel so different from anything that he had ever felt before, and he only opens his eyes to them more and more as the day passes, and he sees a side of you that he had never seen before.

He sees with how much love and gentleness you treat your niece, he sees the way your eyes hold nothing but adoration for the girl that you would do anything for.

He hears how soft your voice can get.

He feels how soft your touch can be when you once again hand her to him.

And his heart beats so strongly, so fastly in his chest when a giggle falls from your lips after Francine pouts when you take her away from him again, only to be forced to place her back into his arms when she almost starts crying.

Steve adores her, and he adores you – a little more as every second of this day passes.

The thing that pushes him nearer towards the finish line of realization, is this very moment in front of him.

Your niece fell asleep on his chest yet again, you are sitting right next to him, with your head on his shoulder and your eyes glued on her, your finger tracing her little features. The urge to pull you closer and hold you feels so strong to the point that his fingers start itching.

“I’m sorry I didn’t cook dinner for you,” he whispers.

You look at him through your lashes, the corner of your lip twitching as your eyes flicker to his lips for a brief moment.

The only light in the room now coming from the TV, the volume set on the lowest. The rain is still falling, even as the night nears.

“It’s okay, Francis didn’t let you,” you giggle softly, not knowing that the sound makes his heart flutter. “Besides, the pizza was really good.”

“Yeah, it was,” he whispers.

He notices how tired you look, how the sleepiness is beginning to set into your features now too.

“Look at her tiny nose,” you whisper as you look back at her, “and those little hands.”

Something in the way you hold her hand and whisper so adoringly about her, makes him long for you even more – but not in a way he had felt before, no, this is different, this is so very serious.

Steve lifts his arm as a blush creeps up to his cheeks, he wraps his arm around you, and pulls you closer, “come here,” he whispers into your hair, “there’s space for two Blondies on my chest.”

He doesn’t know what kind of emotions he can trigger in you, with such simple words.

He doesn’t know that you have been dying to feel this.

You lay your head on his chest, and he can’t help but smile at the sigh that falls from your lips. You put your arm around Francine, and snuggle against him, and you stay like that, for a while at least, until Steve allows his feelings to take the lead.

He adjusts the blanket over Francine before he pulls you even closer, and he buries his fingers in your hair, allowing himself to play with it like he only ever does when you’re fast asleep and unaware of his soft touches or the glances that fall upon your skin.

He would feel joy if he knew about the emotions that linger inside of you.

“You will be an amazing dad to your little nuggets someday, Steve,” you say in a whisper, it’s almost too quiet for him to hear, “and a good husband too.”

The shakiness in your voice and the sadness goes by unnoticed by him, he is too stunned by your words.

If he could see inside your head, he would know how much sadness there is, how the dark clouds always reside, how you don’t see a future for yourself because you know that he won’t be in it, and without him, what will you have? What will you be? A wilting rose, left behind to die. You are barely holding on now, but you are still here, because he is still keeping you alive. Your life is in his hands.

Steve takes a deep breath, he opens his mouth to whisper to you, only to see you fast asleep now too, your cheek squished against his chest just like Francine’s is.

He breathes out, lips curling into a smile as he stops playing with your hair.

“You will be amazing too, Blondie,” he whispers.

A girlfriend. A wife. A mother.

Whatever you choose to be, whoever you will bless with your love, they are going to be so lucky to have you.

And before he can even realize where his thoughts are taking him, a frown nestles into his features. The thought that he will become a memory to you, makes him feel uneasy. The thought that someone will step into your life, and take away what you both have, fills him with gray-ish sadness once again. The image of someone putting a ring on your finger and getting to be the one to lift the veil and kiss you on the altar openly, in front of everybody, and without needing to hide, spreads the darkness in him, yet again.

He looks down at you, at the way you look so comfortable in his embrace, while your soft hand stays on the girl’s back, he admires you, and he feels no shame to do so, not even when he lifts his hand to brush your hair out of your face.

But his time with you is cut short when the front door unlocks and opens, and footsteps echo in the hallway, a moment later.

He turns his face away from you, when your sister steps into the living room, freezing in her steps when she sees him.

Steve swallows the lump in his throat, giving her a tight lipped smile, he raises his hand to wave at her, “hi…”

She furrows her brows as she takes in the sight of you three, her lips pulling into a confused smile. She takes her denim jacket off and walks further into the room, her lips curling into a big smile when she takes a look at her girl.

But then her eyes fall back on him, and suddenly, her lips part in surprise.

“Hi…Oh– you, hang on,” she mumbles, tilting her head before her eyes widen, “Steve Harrington?”

Steve doesn’t know what to think of the look on her face, or the stunned tone in her voice.

He met her before, at the hospital when she came to visit you, but he didn’t talk to her, and her reaction makes him wonder if you have mentioned him before.

“Yeah… that’s uh… that’s me.”

The silence that follows is almost too loud, he can see the way she looks between you both, back and forth, as her brows stay furrowed.

She points a finger between you both, “so uh… you’re her boyfriend?”

Steve hesitates, and he glances down at you, bitterness lays on his tongue when he utters the next words, “uh… no… no, I’m not.” Sadly, he thinks.

And when he registers the words that popped into his head out of nowhere, he suddenly wants nothing more than to escape this situation, fearing his own feelings again.

“I-I should go now.”

“Oh, you’re not staying another night?” She asks, a somewhat smug tone in her voice as she looks at you.

He would love to, but it’s better to go now. It’s not safe to stay, not for his heart.

“No, I have to work tomorrow.”

“Ah,” she nods and walks over to the three of you, “I’ll take her now,” she whispers, and carefully picks her daughter up. The little girl stirs in her sleep, grunting quietly but not opening her eyes just yet.

“She’s a heavy sleeper,” Steve chuckles as he watches the way Francine relaxes into her mother’s arms.

“She really is,” your sister laughs, and walks over to the armchair, taking a seat before she looks back up at Steve, “kind of like Daisy when she’s relaxed,” she nudges her chin towards you.

A smile appears on his face, and he looks down at you, his arm is still wrapped around you, and he already dreads the feeling of having to let you go.

“Yeah,” he whispers, taking a long look at you, before he decides to get up.

A sigh leaves his lips, and he slowly slips away from you, replacing his chest with a pillow for your head, his eyes soften when you scrunch your nose up just the way your niece did earlier. He adjusts the blanket over you, fighting the urge to leave a kiss on your forehead before he steps away.

Your sister eyes him closely, watching how he treats you with so much care.

When Steve steps away, and looks away from you, glancing at your sister, heat rushes to his cheeks when he sees the way she looks between you both, a smug look lingering in her eyes, a small but teasing smile on her face.

He wants to run.

“Okay uh,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck before he points his finger at the hallway, “I’m gonna go.”

“Okay,” she nods, “thanks for helping with Francine.”

He waves his hand, a smile now reappearing on his face as he looks at the baby girl, already missing the feeling of holding her.

“No need to thank me, I loved spending time with these two,” he chuckles, pointing between you and your niece. “But uh, I’m gonna head out.”

“Alright,” she smiles at him.

He takes one last look at you before he turns around and makes his way out of the living room, he puts his Nike’s on, and grabs the car keys he threw on the counter, last night.

“Bye, Twinkie.”

“Bye…” She mumbles with furrowed brows, confused at the name he just called her by.

The front door shuts quietly, yet loud enough to wake you up. With a flinch, you open your eyes, and look around the room, feeling a little disoriented. You look to your side, the empty spot beside you, making you frown.

“Your boyfriend left,” your sister's voice sounds through the room.

You turn to her, finding her in the armchair she always loved so much. A smug look is resting on her lips.

“Shut up,” you mumble, glaring at her.

She laughs at you, and leans back, getting comfortable in her seat.

“Spill. Now.”

The hot water rolls down Steve’s skin, the smell of shampoo surrounds him as he washes his hair.

His eyes are closed, but a smile rests on his lips, as images of all the things that happened today replay in his mind.

The fluttering in his chest hasn’t stopped at all, everything you did, everything you said, every single touch of yours has seemingly turned him into a hopeless teenager again – only, he isn’t one anymore, and the feelings inside of him, go much deeper than the ones of a seventeen year old boy.

And no matter how much he tries to deny them, he just can’t, because it becomes less and less possible to pretend that they aren’t there.

Today, they shined through so brightly, when he saw how soft and gentle you could be, when he saw the sides of you that you never wanted to show. He saw something he never thought was even there. And it causes awful feelings to rise up in him, when he comes to the realization that all these years, you were only protecting yourself from the hurt in this world, and you did so by putting up a front and giving people the wrong pictures of yourself.

You were mean and rough to those you didn’t trust, and he was one of them, maybe he still is, but he saw you today.

When you greeted him this morning, with your niece in your arms.

When you kissed her little forehead, and held her in your sweet embrace.

When you taught him to bottle feed her.

When you admired her with him, and traced her little features with your finger and a loving smile on your face.

When you told him how great of a husband he would be someday, and an amazing dad to his nuggets.

Wait… you said nuggets, plural. He never told you he wanted kids, so how did you know? How did you even know he would love to call his children that particular word? Was it intuition? Was it a coincidence?

His eyebrows knit together with complete and utter confusion as the water just keeps running over his head, and the realization hits him like a ton of bricks.

The RV. His conversation with Nancy. Him telling Nancy he wants to be someone’s husband and have six nuggets. Him pouring his desires out, thinking that everyone else in the vehicle was sound asleep.

But you weren’t.

Fuck, you weren’t asleep. You heard him. You heard him talking to Nancy, and you– you think that he wants those things with her still. He should clarify it, shouldn’t he? He wants to tell you that it was the dread of the world ending talking for him. He wants to explain himself to you–

Explain himself? Why? You probably wouldn’t care who he has kids with, or who he marries. You would simply give him a thumbs up and a confused look on your face. But– He feels his stomach contracting with nerves, nerves he knows all too well. He doesn’t need to explain anything to you. He doesn’t need to clarify anything.

But, he doesn’t want you to think he wants that family with Nancy Wheeler.

He really doesn’t.

And he is terrified that he doesn’t want you to misunderstand.

Absolutely fucking terrified.

And then, the realization, the surprise and the nerves turn into absolute guilt. He had also said a few things about you. Nancy told him that it’s sad you had to be included this way into the party, into their problems, but that you looked strong and determined after going into the upside down just one time.

And he replied with how much he desired you wouldn’t have gotten involved at all. It sounded harsh, it sounded vile and venomous… And it was intended that way, or at least that’s what he thought.

Now, he realizes that he didn’t want you involved so you wouldn’t go through danger, but you did, you went through so much pain and suffering. Nancy was right, you were strong, and you didn’t second guess your actions when it meant saving someone.

“Shit–” He jumped a bit when he felt the water turn cold, not realizing for how long he had been in his head, thinking, running through his thoughts and memories. He turned the water off and shook his head to get the excess of it out of his hair.

He got out of the shower and grabbed a towel, a white one that had the smudge of a lipstick stain that never got off. Your lipstick.

And just that mere stain made his heart jump and miss one beat, two beats, maybe three. Fuck… Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

He really wants you to know he doesn’t mean what he said in the RV.

To both of those things.

Especially the one about Nancy.

“Fuck me.”

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @sherrylyn628 @munson-mjstan @maroon-cardigan @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @ibellcipem @corrodedcorpses @agirlwholovesrockstars

#silly stevie reblogs #omg that was a rant holy shit #dwoht -- chapter fourteen #if there is one thing about me. it’s i’m gonna tear up anything you write.#like andy you make me SICK!!#(lovingly)

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weasel-b33 · 2 days

Text

Wanna be with you everywhere

Surrounded by your earthly possessions, boxes upon boxes stacked and looming over you in your new home, you don’t know where to start. Steve reminds you that the most important thing is right in front of you (and has a box of his own for you to open).

Word Count: 2.7k

Content / Warnings: This is fairly tame and sweet. Reader is overtired and overwhelmed, but other than that - total fluff. Moving in together, a brief sex mention, Steve being romantic and totally down bad for reader. Maybe a big question is on the cards, idk.

Reader is referred to with one gendered honourific. (No spoilers…👀) I have tried to leave physical descriptions as neutral and inclusive as possible 🧡

If you are not 18+ please do press the back button

Author’s Note: Once again, soft Steve Harrington has invaded my brain. This is pretty short and sweet. Oh to feel safe and loved in his big beefy arms, amirite?

I hope you enjoy! Thank you for the love on Clean Slate & Pinch Me recently - it means a lot!!! Once again I had way too much fun on Canva... Let me know what you think / if you catch any typos!

Please do not do any AI fuckery with my work or repost on other sites.

Boxes. Heavy, full and labelled with a blocky scrawl. They are everywhere, stacked by the coffee table you had thrifted, the big squishy armchair for you to read in. You haven’t seen so many since your high school weekend job filling shelves and scanning groceries and wearing your customer service smile until your cheeks ached.

The smell of fresh paint and cardboard combined with the dry feeling that the boxes left on your hands makes you want to peel your skin off. You look around the room with your hands pressing into the small of your back while you stack more tasks on your mental to-do list. The room was empty a few hours ago, a total blank canvas.

The floor calls, grounding you.

With a sigh that pulls from the tips of your toes, you lie back against the cool wood and stretch your arms out by your sides. This is where the couch will go when it arrives. You close your eyes and feel the all-over ache from packing, carrying and lifting. Before the carrying and lifting was days of packing and organising.

That’s when it dawns on you - you still need to unpack them all.

Tears push themselves up and you feel your ugly-cry face break the dazed-but-happy expression you had been wearing all day. All you want is a hot shower and your comfy new bed. And -

“Hey.”

Steve.

Your dry hands cover your face, swiping your wet cheeks as your boyfriend closes the door - the door to your first apartment together - and navigates his way around the boxes to get to you. His presence cuts short your catastrophising.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” he asks, sounding almost panicked. “Do you hate it? I know the paint dried a little darker than we thought, but we can redo it. It’ll be okay.” Steve is quick to join you on the floor, lying on his side by you with one arm wrapped over your shaking body. “Babe…”

When you move your hands to look at Steve’s concerned face, you see that he looks as tired as you feel. Despite that, he’s still the most gorgeous person you have ever seen. His hair is crushed under a backwards baseball cap and there’s pizza sauce on his tshirt. His deodorant and aftershave has long worn off but you let him hold you, lying half on top of him on the floor, not ready or able to speak yet. Big hard-working hands sweep soothingly up and down your back. Steve’s good at that, letting you just cry it out, holding you steady and safe when you need to weep. He always seems to know what you need; a distraction or silence, gentle words or just the steady thud of his heart against your ear.

Despite the sweat and dust, Steve presses kisses to your forehead as you slowly settle. The fact that he’s so handsome and nice to you makes you sob shakily one more time.

“Just breathe, you’re okay.”

Steve is calm, but you know that inside that he’s wracking his brains to get to the bottom of why the love of his life was crying in the middle of their brand new apartment while he was waving off the friends who had helped you move. Had he said something stupid, was the paint really that ugly… Steve didn’t let his mind even go near the idea that you might be second guessing moving in together.

When he sees you peering up at him, his heart beats double time like it always does when you look at him. His attention is back on you now, out of his own head. You can see the cogs turning in his head and feel worse for making him worry about you, feel insecure or like he was the reason for your tears.

“Hi,” you whisper. “Sorry. Overwhelmed.”

“Don’t say sorry, honey. It’s okay.”

You rest your cheek on his chest again. His tshirt is stained wet from your tears now too but Steve doesn’t care.

You lie together on the floor, both aching and bone tired. From somewhere, you summon the energy to squeeze Steve as tight as possible, needing him to know how much you adore him. He makes a small happy noise before returning the squish.

“We’re here,” you murmur against his chest, before you free each other to lie side by side in the golden glow coming from the big un-curtained windows.

“Here we are. Welcome home, baby,” Steve says, turning his head to look at you again. He covers your hand and stroked his thumb over your racing pulse. “What’s going on in that big juicy brain of yours, huh?”

“Ew.” You laugh, wincing when your body reminds you that it has clocked out for the day, and meet Steve’s gaze. “All the boxes freaked me out. We still need to unpack everything, and the couch won’t fit if we don’t get some of them out of here -” Your voice shakes and catches and you make yourself take one slow deep breath. Steve squeezes you once, no rush. “I’m just so fucking tired, Stevie.”

Steve gives you a little smile. “I bet. You’ve been running the show today, making sure everything is perfect.” Steve had been up before you, excited to get going, and had spent the day lugging boxes with Eddie, never letting you take the heavy ones. You had caught yourself staring at how his biceps bulged deliciously a couple of times - Steve had caught you too and made sure to come give you some kisses when his hands were free. And he had checked in with you, not wanting you to get too caught up in making everything perfect or taking on too much of the responsibility - you were just better organised than him. The brains to his brawn, though he knew you didn’t like when he thought like that.

He sits up, then stands, groaning like a man older than his twenty-odd years. He holds out his hands to help you up, and he puts his arms around you once you’re upright.

“Everything’s where it needs to be. You and Nance had that list. Everything’s all colour coded.” You had both been armed with coloured markers and sticky notes to make sure the boxes were in the right rooms. “What’s the word? It’s meticulous, baby.” You can hear a smile in Steve’s low soft voice; he’s proud of himself for remembering and of you, for everything. It helps ease the tension bunched in your shoulders.

He kisses your head with a fierce amount of love. “It doesn’t need to be perfect right away okay? We’re in this together and we’ll figure it out. All that matters is you and me, yeah? You and me in our first place together. S’already perfect for me.”

Your heart hurts with how much love it holds for Steve Harrington. He’s right; all that matters is the two of you, boxes of bed sheets and belongings be damned.

Steve starts a slow sway, his fingers tucked into the belt loops on the back of your old jeans as you settle your hands on the base of his neck. He hums a song you both loved, one that had come on the radio in a moment of pure fate when you started the short drive from his old place to your new one together.

I want to be with you everywhere…

The smile Steve had graced upon you then was like pure gold and you turned the volume up loud, rolling down the windows as you sang together.

Now you feel his smile, wide and lovely, against your temple and peel back to look up at his face. “What’s the smile for, handsome?”

“M’happy.” You see that boyish twinkle in his eyes, and when he smiles Steve looks so innocently happy, the little boy who had to grow up too quickly. You press up on your toes, ignoring the burn in your feet to lessen the gap between you. He is quick to meet you halfway and accepts the kiss you land on his smiling mouth. Steve’s joy is contagious and he is as generous sharing it with you as he is with his kisses.

“I’m happy too, promise.” Foreheads pressed together, you close your eyes and let the calm feeling wash over you as Steve starts the sway again. You’re pressed together, head to toe.

“S’okay if you’re not. You don’t have to say you are if you feel shitty.” Steve’s voice tickles your cheek and he chases it with a kiss there.

“I am. We’re going to be so happy here, Steve. I love this place.” You feel the truth of your words deep in your bones, beyond your aches and pains. “Love you.”

Your words make his heart zing. “Love you more,” he whispers, nudging your nose with his own as he kisses his way back to your lips. “M’happy with you wherever we are, I just want to be with you.”

As you hold each other, swaying in the setting sunlight, you let the thought of unpacking shrink and enjoy the moment, calmness washing over you like a balm. Over the next few weeks and days you and Steve will place your things side by side, hang up pictures and clothes and fill the blank canvas. You’ll try the diner down the block for breakfast in the morning as a treat, and do your first grocery shop together. You have already promised each other that you’ll have sex in every room to christen the place (Steve’s idea, you loved it) and in a week or two you’ll invite your friends around for a party. You’ll make up the spare room for when the kids who aren’t kids anymore come to visit. There’s no rush, you have the rest of your lives to feather your nest together, find a bigger one when you’re ready.

You breathe him in, finding that scent that is simply Steve behind the fresh paint and sweat and the lingering smell of the pizza you shared with your best friends to say thank you for their help - the first party of many in your home together.

Steve presses his love into you with his kisses and stroking hands, thinking of the only box that matters to him; a small ring-box housing soft gold and sparkling jewels that reminded him of you. It’s not in any of the cardboard towers, or the overnight bags with the basics for your first night and morning. The little green velvet box sits heavy in his back pocket, plucked from the Beemers glove compartment while he was waving Eddie and the girls off (all of them had whispered their good luck while they hugged Steve fiercely tight).

Seeing you in tears made him second guess his timing, but as he sways with you now he couldn’t be more sure that you’re the one he wants to marry.

“Hey. Lemme take a picture of us,” he whispers, “The disposable still has a few shots left on it. Stay there.”

“Steve I look so gross,” you whine - but you have to admit it’s a sweet suggestion. His lips meet yours and he pecks the pout away.

“You’re beautiful,” he says in a murmur against your lips. “We can show our grandkids someday. You’n me, young and cool in our first place together.”

Steve’s heart beats double time at your grin and he makes your nose scrunch up when he dots kisses all over your face. “Wait there. The light is..” He kisses his own fingers with an over exaggerated ‘mwah’.

He leaves you laughing as he dodges boxes on the way to quadruple check the ring and fetch the camera.

You had both been snapping pictures all day, pictures that would end up in a photo album with little annotations of the date and who was in each shot; Steve & Robin hugging outside their apartment before hopping in the moving van, Eddie in an Iron Maiden tee with the sleeves cut off sticking his tongue out as he carried a box under one arm, you and Nancy deep in conversation on the sidewalk, you and Steve stealing a kiss in the empty kitchen (Nancy was stealthy with that one). There were three clicks left.

When Steve arrives back you’re poking through a box of books and thinking about how you’re going to stack them on the shelves (which will be dropped off tomorrow). Your smile when you see him lights up the room already glowing with the setting sun. You both think ‘how’d I ever get this lucky’ and find your way to each other, sharing another kiss before getting your picture taken.

Steve stands in front of the windows, tucking you under his arm as you both make the most of the golden light illuminating your tired smiling faces. After the click, he rolls the film on.

His heart beats hard and quick with anticipation, but he’s not nervous - he has never been so sure of a decision in his entire life. You are the one; his one.

Steve places the camera on the windowsill before taking your hands. “You’re the love of my life y’know?”

You look up and nod, squeezing his hands. “Mhm. And you’re mine. I love you so much I could scream.” You mean it too, thinking about how you could open up the window right now and shout to the city that you love Steve Michael Harrington.

He presses a single soft kiss to your forehead. “The best day of my life was the day you smiled at me in that little dive bar, baby. Ever since then, I knew I was a goner.” He brushes his thumb over the back of your hand. “I don’t ever want anyone else. Waking up next to you every day, and going to sleep with you every night... I feel like I’m dreamin’ sometimes. Like, how’d I get this lucky?” Steve squeezes your hands three times ‘I love you’. “You’re my love, my best friend.”

Your face hurts from smiling, about to quip that you promise not to tell Robin or Eddie, but instead you see Steve lowering himself down onto the floorboards - dropped down on one knee.

For a moment your mind goes blank until you see that little green velvet box, which he flicks open to show you the ring inside.

Steve says your name so quietly as he gazes up at you, “Will you marry me?”

All capacity for speech evades you. Your focus is all on Steve, barely comprehending the gorgeous ring winking at you in his hands. Every cell of your body is screaming S T E V E. You manage to nod as more tears press and push up and spill down your cheeks.

You let him take your hand to slide the ring on. A perfect fit. If you could think straight you would remember one of your favourite rings going missing for a week a while back - the culprit kneeling in front of you.

You pull him up this time, crushing your body to his as you babble ‘yes!’ a thousand times, even as he kisses you with his own wet cheeks pressing to yours.

Everything feels soft around the edges, luminous and dreamlike, as you see Steve and his smile and his love for you in bright high definition. You take his face in your hands - the left one ever so slightly heavier now - and you bring your faces together.

“Hi Future Mrs Harrington,” he whispers, each syllable filled with an almost-giggly bubbling joy.

“Hi Mr Harrington,” you whisper back, feeling his hands squeezing your hips. You kiss him again, smiling too much to make it last pass a few slow romantic pecks and you’re just holding each other, glowing.

In that moment everything is perfect, your previous sense of total overwhelm replaced by utter joy. Tired and still a little sweaty, dust on your jeans and your hair coming undone, you’re still the most beautiful creature Steve Harrington has ever laid eyes on - even more so now with the promise on your hand.

Steve reaches out to take up the camera again. “Still got two more. Engagement pic for the grandkids?” he asks, and you practically squeal with delight when you realise he had it all planned.

As he angles the camera in front of you both, hoping the light is still okay and that he’s not chopping off his own head, you hold your ring up to make sure it’s in frame. That picture, and the next one of you two sharing a kiss with diamonds glimmering in the dipping sunlight, will take pride of place in that little album of the day you moved in together, the day Steve Harrington asked you to marry him.

Likes, comments and reblogs are absolutely cherished and adored!

Bonus next day diner breakfast Steve for the girlies - thank you for reading 🩷

#silly stevie reblogs #aw boyfriend!!#oops i mean husband!!

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weasel-b33 · 3 days

Text

too sweet.

summary: she was too sweet for him, everybody knew that. still, he couldn’t stay away, and neither could she, even when the sugar made his head spin and the bitterness burned her throat.

pairing: steve harrington x reader

warnings: brief mentions of sexual content, nothing too serious really

word count: 900

a/n: hey! just wanted get something up while i work on some longer pieces. i’m currently finishing up my second semester of my second year of college, so i haven’t had time or energy to write much of anything lately. figured i’d write a little blurb when i got the time to keep the content coming for you guys. anyway, hope you enjoy! hopefully new longer content will be coming soon. if you enjoy, leave a like, reblog, or a comment, whatever, any little bit of engagement helps. :)

masterlist | prompts list

She was too good for Steve, everyone knew that. She was a delicate, well groomed rose bush and he was the patch of weeds that grew in her planter box, stealing every last bit of water from her until her leaves turned brown and fell from her stem. He wasn’t someone a girl like her should ever be associating with, but something kept him coming back to her, and her to him.

They didn’t speak in school, sharing stolen glances from across the hall, soft stares that turned desperate when they were filled with memories of two nights ago. To Steve’s friends, she was nothing more than a conquest, and to hers he was nothing more than a walking red warning sign telling her to run the other way. To each other, they were something they couldn’t quite name, unsure if it was love or boredom or something else entirely. But boredom wouldn’t have you running back to someone like this, wouldn’t have you lying awake thinking about them and your heart racing every time you shared a glance.

He was the type to fall asleep when the sky was dark and wake long after the birds had already started singing, and she never crawled in or out of bed any later than the sun. He’d tried to see her once, crawl through her window after every streetlight had flickered on, but she hadn’t answered his taps on her window, duvet blocking out any sound that might disturb her early sleep. Two mornings later and he’s woken from his own sleep by the ringing of his phone, her sweet voice begging him to watch the sunrise with her at Lovers Lake. He had complained and told her it was far too early, but when she told him she got up that early everyday he simply laughed and grabbed his keys from the bedside table.

He asked her once if she’d ever thought about sleeping in, or staying out late to watch the stars around a bonfire. She’d shook her head, told him routine was what she needed, that she could get the most out of her day if she went to bed early, but that same night she’d made it back home long after the moon took its place in the sky, hair frizzy and skirt twisted sideways.

She reminded him of when he’d drank a Screwdriver for the first time, far too sweet for him to handle without his head spinning, but giving him enough of a buzz that he couldn’t stop sipping it. He reminded her of the single sip of her father’s whiskey spiked coffee, the kind that turned her tongue bitter and burned her throat on the way down, but had her heart racing all the same.

He always laughed at the way she’d scold him for his dirty mouth. He didn’t think he’d ever heard a single ‘bad word’ come out of her, and everytime one came out of him, she was quick to smack him on the shoulder and tell him off like a mother. She kept her body guarded, rarely letting his hands wander too far until it was two hours later and she was desperate for them to be anywhere else but on her face. He started to wake up earlier just to hear the birds sing about her.

He started seeing her in everything. In the rainy days where the sun was still in the sky, the soft patter of raindrops hitting his window sounding more and more like her laugh every time. He saw her in the wisteria vines that climbed the trellis in his mother’s garden, in the sip of wine he stole from his mother’s glass. He told himself he could wait a few years until he didn’t burn so much, until he became a better man who could handle how sweet she was. She told him she didn’t mind the burn, didn’t mind the bitterness, but if he wanted to wait until he was smoother for her, she could do that. She could wait.

2 years later and she's still just as sweet, smooth like an aged bottle of wine but with that small bitter hint you don’t really notice until you’re two glasses in. He’s smoother, like the shot of bourbon sitting next to her on her kitchen counter, but he still burns just enough for her to recognize him. She downs the amber in the glass and tells him she can handle the burn, and he tells her that sweet still makes his head spin, even after all this time.

Suddenly he’s the one waking before the sun, slaving away over an oven and a glass of wine left out from the night before, birds singing the same song they used to years ago. He’s in bed by sunset because she’d pulled him to the bedroom by the arm, lips lingering on his skin in the same way he used to linger on hers. He finds himself watching his language and she lets a few dirty words slip now and then, and her hands move his lower when she gets tired of them on her waist. He still sees her in the rain and the roses outside of his apartment, down to the small thorns hidden just beneath the beautiful crimson petals. She sees him in the thunder storms and the dandelions, beautiful and dangerous all the same.

Suddenly, Screwdrivers aren’t too sweet for him anymore, and whiskey doesn’t burn her throat quite like it used to.

#silly stevie reblogs #wow.#i’m speechless #this is amazing.

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weasel-b33 · 4 days

Note

He would never take those bracelets off 😭 now I kinda want a fic of counselor James and counselor reader how cute

Hi, I've lowkey been hoarding this for months because I wanted to wait until I felt summery enough, thank you for requesting!!

camp counselor!James x fem!reader ♡ 693 words

“Land ho, boys!” A familiar voice reaches you over the water. Your eyes are closed towards the sun, but you feel your lips twitch upward. “Thomas, if you don’t help Callum paddle you’ll fall behind, and the last one to shore has to buy me a popsicle after dinner. Hey, look, we’ve got a mermaid on our beach!”

You turn your head to the side, squinting your eyes to see James and his cabin of boys paddling toward you in kayaks over the lake. You lift your hand in a lazy wave.

“Oh, false alarm, it’s just y/n. Hi, y/n!” He raises an arm to wave back at you, wrist stacked with string bracelets made with care by small hands. You swear he’s got more from your own cabin than you have, but you don’t mind; James is a hero to most of the kids at camp, the goofy gentle giant who lets them ride on his shoulders when your manager isn’t looking and deals temporary tattoos out of his cabin during mealtimes. “Careful, Archie, mate, if she catches you rocking your kayak like that she’s going to hang you from the lifeguard stand by your toes.” The boys laugh, and James protests, “No, really! I’ve seen her do it, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You roll your eyes and close them again, turning your face back towards the sky. It’s not until you hear the shushing of kayaks against the coarse sand and a shadow falls over you that you say, without opening your eyes, “Spreading rumors about me again?”

“They know better than to take me seriously.” James’ shadow moves as he sits beside you on the sand, and you turn your head again to see him. He’s looking over his shoulder at the boys, the lean muscles of his abdomen stretching and dusky skin shining with sweat in the afternoon sun. “Hey, whoever puts my kayak and paddle up, I’ll buy them a popsicle after dinner.” Shouts and bickering ensue, and James turns back around with a smile. “Where are your kids?” he asks you.

“In arts and crafts,” you say. “Figured I’d catch a nap while they were busy.”

He hums, setting his hands on the warm sand behind him and leaning back. “So, you didn’t just come here to see how fit I looked dragging a paddle through the water?”

You know James is only playing, but embarrassment tingles down to your toes anyway. “Not this time, sorry.”

“Mm, don’t believe you.” He shoots you a grin, and you look away under the guide of rolling your eyes. That thing is more glaring than the sun. “You coming to the bonfire tonight?”

“Don’t we have to?” you ask. It’s the last night of this session, and camp always closes out with a bonfire and s’mores for the kids.

“I mean the other bonfire.” At your blank look, James continues, looking rather too pleased to know something you don’t, “After the kid’s bonfire, when they’re all watching a movie in the cafeteria, some of the counselors are planning to go out into the woods and have a grown-up’s bonfire.”

You giggle. “Grown-ups? What are we, twelve?”

James bobs his head. “And we’re gonna have s’mores, and tell ghost stories, and maybe play truth or dare,” he says in an exaggeratedly animated tone. “It’s gonna be super cool.”

“It sounds super cool,” you agree, laughing. “I’ll be there.”

“Excellent.” James casts a look over his shoulder and starts standing up. “I should get back to my kids before they injure each other.”

You check the time and sigh. “Yeah, me too.”

“Want a hand?”

You reach up and James takes your hands in his, hauling you upright. Your head lightens once you’re vertical, a combination of your sun-warmed skin and James’ touch making you woozy.

“See you later?” he asks, releasing your hands and starting to back away as the shouting behind him grows more boisterous. “I’ll come find you in the cafeteria, we can walk together.”

“That’d be great, thanks.” You start walking away, too, ignoring the pleasant buzzing in your chest. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

#daily james potter story reblogs #if there is one thing about me. is that i LOVE a jamie au #GIVE THEM ALLLLL TO ME.

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weasel-b33 · 7 days

Note

Could you do a blurb where reader rolls a joint for Eddie for the first time with all her cute papers and stuff and he loves it?

Happy Stoner Christmas!

happy 4/20! 😶‍🌫️💚

“Well, if it isn’t for my favorite customer.”

You hear him before you see him, and sit up straighter as you look up, torso twisting around to face Eddie.

He’s walking through the tree line that acts as the ‘fence’ to your backyard. Not exactly born into wealth, your home is on the edge of Hawkins and lacks the white picket fence and concrete driveway, with nature and gravel filling in. Just down the street is Jonathan Byers’ home.

Confidence radiates off of Eddie as he approaches the picnic bench you were waiting on, his curls sway a little. He’s rocking a band shirt today—long sleeves rolled up his forearms—and some dark jeans. You try not to squirm under his stare, the wild grin on his face stirring something in your tummy.

You knew you’d end up crushing on him after the first time you went to him for weed instead of Rick. He was cute.

Eddie was so freaking cute and charming and funny. You probably would have been fine if he had just been cute and charming, but the humorous trait was your weakness. You loved funny guys.

Sure enough, by the fourth time he dealt to you—his tongue was in your mouth. And the fifth time, you’d gone to third base. Now, whatever happened when he came around just happened. You accepted it, even if it makes you a little nervous because you know very well you’re interested in more than just the benefits that come with your encounters.

You want him. Like, boyfriend him. It’s kind of tragic, actually, because you don’t even know if you’re the only one of his clientele he treats this way. Eddie can be fucking the rest of them for all you know and it drives you insane because you want to ask—you’re just too chicken shit.

“You say that as if this wasn’t prearranged.” You laugh out and Eddie snorts, dumping his black lunch pail on the leaf riddled bench top next to your scooby-doo lunch box with a metal clang.

“I’m trying to be cute and you’re ruining it.” When you laugh again, Eddie’s eyes squint in triumph, “And I’ll have you know I have been waiting—no, yearning for you to call upon me. Moved my bed over to the phone and everything. Thought you forgot allllllll about me.”

“Me forget about you? Impossible.” You declare in a joking manner, though you truly mean the sentiment. Your mental health might be better if you could forget him. Then you wouldn’t be able to make yourself sick over the idea of him kissing other people.

“You better mean that.” He jabbed an accusatory finger, silver ring glinting, in your direction as he settles in across from you, “The usual, my sweet?”

UGH! SEE?! Too damn cute.

“Please?” You’re too busy opening up your own lunch box full of supplies to notice the heated look he fixes you with right then.

Eddie clears his throat, tongue darting out to swipe over his lower lip as he pops the lid of his lunch pail open, pulling out a little baggie with your favorite strain of buds. He eyes it with a glint in his eye before it’s held out to you, dangling from his fingertips.

You look up once you realize it’s being offered, and pinch the top of the baggie as your other hand holds out the folded bills. Eddie flicks them out of your loose grip, and it goes flying to land in your lap while you jump in surprise.

“My bad,” he snickers, his pretty teeth gleaming, “it’s on the house.”

You pick up exactly where he wants you to, “In that case, please accept my offer to smoke you out with my newly acquired goods.”

That feeling in your belly—butterflies—intensifies at the slow and large smile that spreads on his face, forcing his little dimple to make an appearance.

It always goes like this now.

Eddie comes over (or you go to him), weed is exchanged and when you try to pay him for it, he refuses. Then, you invite him to smoke weed with you (and he’ll always pull from the extra inventory he carries around—never from what he’s just given you), the two of you get high and you finally feel brave enough to make a move because you know he always waits for you to do it. Gives you the power to start things, your own comfort, though he takes full control once you get going. He’s always so keen on taking care of you. You’d once thought that maybe he didn’t want you as much as you wanted him, since it was always you initiating things, but the way he’d beg for you, ramble about how much he wanted you, how desperate he was for you and his ‘finally, I thought I was gonna die’s on just your kisses alone, soothed that insecurity.

“I’d be delighted to! But─”

“Nope.” You interrupt, having seen his hand reaching into his pail. “My weed—not yours.”

He raises his eyebrows in surprise and when you don’t back down, both of his hands are lifted in surrender before one is extended to you out on the bench, palm up. Eddie’s waiting for you to give him your grinder and the weed so he can start rolling but you low five his palm instead and he chuckles, skin tingling from the contact.

“That’s not exactly what I meant.”

“I know, but I’m also rolling today, too.”

Eddie scoffs and smirks, fixing you with that heated stare again and you quickly divert your gaze, pulling out your pretty purple grinder and getting to work. You are not gonna let him make you nervous and fumble around, “Baby…”

Oh, god. The way he coos it out, nice and low—you’re instantly taken back to other times you’d heard him say it like that. You’d been bent into all kinds of positions as it was rasped into your ear, the sweat from both of your bodies plastering Eddie to you. Your hand twists the top of the grinder on autopilot as you stare at nothing, gaze vacant.

Eddie knows exactly where your mind has taken you and his smirk widens.

“You can’t roll for shit.”

That snaps you out of your stupor, mouth dropping.

“I can, too! You’ve never seen me put in the work.”

“I have, that’s why I roll.”

And you cringe as you recall the first time you’d try to roll a joint. It had been the second time Eddie sold to you, having only used pre-rolled cones prior. Those only meant you had to pack the wrap in with weed, kind of like a funnel and then twist the end closed before partaking.

Rolling from start to finish was a whole other endeavor and you’d failed so badly, Eddie had rolled around on the floor laughing. You didn’t take any offense, too busy jumping up and down inside at having made the cute, charming funny guy you liked laugh.

“I’ve been practicing,” You pout, placing the grinder down after you’re sure the nug of the bud you’d placed in it was now almost powder-like.

“You tryna impress me, hm?” He hums out, and you refuse to look up, knowing those pretty brown eyes of his are gonna be lidded and it’ll do you in early. You’ll have to jump him right there, “Been practicing to show me what you can do?”

You ignore him, focusing instead on the rolling papers you had.

Eddie places his chin in his hand, watching you intently as you frown in concentration before it breaks when you select a rolling paper, cherries decorating the white sheets. You pull your small rolling tray out and some part of Eddie throbs. You hadn’t had that before.

You quickly scrunch a filter together, folding the rolling paper and placing the filter at the edge of the fold before you unscrew the grinder and begin pinching the green within to sprinkle on the paper. Once it was full, and Eddie notices with wide eyes that you’ve packed it with a significant amount, you use dexterous fingers to carefully roll it together, tongue poking out as you take diligent care to ensure no fall out. Once the green flower is properly contained, you lick the free edge and fold it over the rest of the joint before you pinch and twist the end.

After a few moments of intense scrutiny, you hold it out victoriously, “Taduh!!! For you.”

Eddie takes the joint, turning it this way and that as he marvels. You really had been practicing, it was beautiful. He feels an intense amount of pride bloom in his chest and something else. Always for you, only ever for you.

“Did I do good?” You ask, voice shy as you bite your lip and this time you don’t look away when that heavy stare focuses on you. You wanna faint, but you don’t. He doesn’t say anything for a while and you know where tonight is gonna lead.

“Baby,” There’s that rasp again that makes you want to drop dead and smash your mouth to his at the same time, “I’m gonna need you to come over here now. Don’t think I can wait.”

#eddie (mine)#omg omg omg.#i want him badly.#happy 4/20 to those who celebrate

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weasel-b33 · 8 days

Note

can i request a reader who can’t admit she’s upset with one the marauders (or all)? like refuses to cry…only if you’re comfortable of course. thank you :)

Thank you for requesting gorgeous!

modern au

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

The smell of smoke coming from the kitchen is the first sign that Sirius has tipped over from resentment into remorse.

“Jesus,” you open the front door on your way into the kitchen, eyes watering, “what are you doing?”

“I was trying to make rice,” he says, fanning desperately over your pressure cooker, “but I think I’ve fucked it.”

“Do you think so?” Any other day you’d both grin at the harmless snark, but now Sirius’ expression pinches and you think your own must look the same, your tone more biting than you meant for it to be. “It’s fine, it’ll be fine once it airs out. Help me with the windows?”

Sirius acts like it’s a competition, opening three windows before you’ve finished two and looking at you like he’s expecting a pat on the head for it. You try to give him a smile, and his expression clouds over.

“Sorry,” he says, voice not quite cool but oddly remote, “the idea was to surprise you with dinner, and I’ve broken your rice thingy instead.”

“It’s not broken,” you reassure him. “I’m sure it’ll be fine once I clean it out. Why were you trying to make dinner?”

Sirius grimaces. It’s a full body motion, his eyebrows hooking in the middle while the muscles in his forearms shift uncomfortably and his shoulders migrate upward. “Sort of a shitty attempt at an olive branch, I guess.”

Some of the smoke has cleared, and you brave the kitchen. “I don’t need an olive branch,” you say. “If you say we’re good, we’re good.”

“Don’t do that.” He follows you into the kitchen. “I can tell you’re upset, just because—” Sirius hisses when you take the bowl out of the pressure cooker, transferring it swiftly to the sink “—fuck, baby, don’t burn yourself. Let me take care of that later.”

“I’d rather handle it now,” you say, turning on the faucet. “I’m just letting it soak anyway.”

“I’m trying to handle this.” Sturdy hands wrap around your shoulders, turning you to face your boyfriend. He looks at you steadily. “Don’t pretend you’re not angry with me, because I know that you are.”

A spark of annoyance tingles up your spine as you shrug, reaching behind you to turn off the faucet. “I’m not.”

“Can you stop trying to make me feel like an idiot? I know you. You’ve been all stiff since last night.”

“You were angry last night. Not me.”

“Yeah, well it seems to have caught on.”

You turn away from him and back towards the sink, swishing your hand in the cold water of the bowl to dislodge the charred rice sticking to the bottom. You don’t know where Sirius gets off, acting like you’re holding a grudge when he’s the one who shouted at you last night. Your phone had died while you were out with friends. That was all that had happened. You didn’t think anything of it, because Sirius, the only person who would really worry about not being able to reach you, knew you were out and that you’d be home late.

But when you had gotten home, he’d been furious. Gone on and on about how he’d been trying to get a response from you all night, and how dangerous it was to get drunk when you couldn’t call anyone (nevermind that you’d been with your friends), and how freaked out he’d been. He wouldn’t listen to you. He’d only wanted to yell and rage, and make you sit in your heels on the couch while he did it. He’d even seemed like he might be tearing up a couple of times. And you hated to think of him being scared for you, but since when was it your responsibility to answer every time he called? He knew you were with your friends. You hadn’t asked him to check in on you.

He’d gone to bed still fuming and you’d stayed on the couch rather than try to sleep in a hostile bed. Now, inexplicably, his tune seems to have changed.

“So,” Sirius sighs, “this is you not mad, huh?”

“Yup.” You scrub at the bowl with your fingernails.

“I just want a chance to apologize.”

“You can if it’ll make you feel better, but I don’t need it.”

“Why can’t you just admit it?”

“Because I’m not the one who gets pissy about stupid things.” You dislodge a chunk of rice and your hand slips across the bowl, splashing water onto your shirt. “That’s you.”

There’s a second of dense, oppressive silence. When Sirius breaches it, you can hear the smirk in his voice. “There’s my girl. Tell me about the stupid things I got pissy about, would you?”

“It’s nothing.”

“No, it’s not. It wasn’t nothing to me, and clearly it wasn’t to you either. Go on, doll.”

“I don’t want to argue with you.”

“Sure you do.”

“Why do you want to fight so bad?”

“Because,” Sirius says, and you can hear him moving behind you, can all but see him leaning against the counter, the picture of insouciance, “I think you need to get it out of your system.”

You scrub harder at the bowl. Blackened bits of rice float to the top of the water. “Like you do?”

A pause. His voice softens. “It’s not always a good thing. I shouldn’t have shouted at you, last night.” Something in your chest tightens painfully at this new gentle tone. “I’m sorry. I let my temper get the better of me. I was just worried about you.”

“I don’t think that’s my fault,” you say, managing to sound mostly normal. You dump out the contents of the bowl, filling it again with warmer water. “My phone was dead, and I was with my friends. I didn’t need you to worry about me.”

“I just do, when I know you’ve all been drinking, and I can’t talk to you to know you’re okay…” Sirius takes in a breath, breaking your heart with how it sounds like he’s trying to steady himself. “But you’re right, okay? It wasn’t fair.”

“I didn’t know I was coming home to be shouted at.” This time, your voice betrays you, a pitchiness that makes you go quiet fast. You hear Sirius move.

“Sweetheart?” he asks softly. There’s a touch at your elbow. “I’m sorry, baby, please look at me.”

You don’t want to, but you don’t want your embarrassment interpreted as ire. You take a quiet breath before pivoting from the sink. Sirius’ eyes are waiting, sad and fretful as they probe at yours.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, impossibly quieter, and runs his fingers from your elbow up the back of your arm. “It wasn’t your fault, I wasn’t being fair. I shouldn’t have shouted at you.”

You press your lips together, hard. His eyebrows hook up in the middle.

“You can cry, sweet thing. It’s okay.” You shake your head mutely, blinking, and Sirius makes a terribly lovely cooing sound, snaking an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest. You hug him back as the first hot tear rolls down your cheek. “Oh, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” Your shoulders jump with a stilted, poorly repressed sob, his grip on you tightening. “It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’ve got you, baby. My temper tantrum really did a number on you, huh?”

You laugh wetly. “Guess so,” you squeak. “Sorry.”

“If you apologize for this, I may shout at you again,” he warns fondly. “You haven’t done anything wrong, lovely girl. Just let it out, if you need to.”

You know that’s not easy for Sirius to say. Know he’s likely close to tears himself, from how agitated seeing other people cry makes him. You appreciate the offer.

You fall into a silence less heavy than any that’s suffocated your home since last night, broken up only by the steady, quiet thumping of Sirius patting your back and the intermittent smooching sounds as he kisses your shoulder or your cheek or the side of your neck. You stand still in your smoky kitchen, wetting your boyfriend’s shoulder with tears and snot, and he lets you.

#simping for siri #i love love him.#even if he’s temperamental #it’s okay bbg me too.

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weasel-b33 · 10 days

Note

hello love! I just, like, devoured all your writings today and idk if your requests are open, but I really like seer!reader and I was wondering if I could request one with poly!marauders where reader is a slytherin and she has a vision of befriending them or being in a relationship with them?

I’d imagined she thinks it’s a silly vision at first but the more she sees the boys (as she’s friends with Regulus so is bound to run into them with him), the visions occur more and more until she finally has an official interaction with them and officially meets them.

Idk if that’s too complicated/confusing, if so, you don’t have to write it obviously 😅.

I love Seer reader!!! thanks for your request lovie <3

please note: my requests are currently closed as I finish exams and work through the requests that I currently have.

poly!marauders x Seer Slytherin fem!reader who Sees a relationship with them

“Tell me again why I have to sit at the Gryffindor table for lunch?” You protested as Regulus all but dragged you to the Great Hall and Barty skipped merrily-on ahead.

“Because I have to sit at the Gryffindor table for lunch.” He answered gruffly, strengthening his hold on your arm as you faltered in your steps.

“I don’t know, babes; have you ever considered just killing him? You wouldn’t have to reconnect with your estranged brother if he was dead.” Barty offered nonchalantly.

“For the last time, Barty, I am not killing my brother.”

“A decision we’re all suffering for, apparently.” You muttered petulantly as you entered the Great Hall; chatter and the sounds of cutlery and tableware permeating your senses.

“Don’t worry, Treasure. The faster we eat the faster we can get away.” Barty offered in consolation.

“I am not doing the heimlich on you again, Barty.” You groaned as you followed Regulus towards the wrong side of the Great Hall.

“Come on, they’re not that bad.” Regulus tried.

You and Barty both stopped to give him unimpressed glares.

“Lupin’s not that bad.” He corrected.

“Yeah, and then he ruins that by the company he keeps.” You grumble as you plopped yourself down unceremoniously at the Red and Gold table across from your three lunch dates for the day.

Listen, you were all for being a good friend, a supportive friend; you would die for Regulus Black.

You’re not sure that support extended to willingly eating lunch with Gryffindor’s.

But Regulus was determined to mend his relationship with his brother before Sirius graduated, Barty went just about anywhere Regulus went, and apparently you were single-handedly responsible for Regulus’ general sanity when it came to his brother and Barty.

“Hello Reggie!” Sirius called quickly.

“Don’t call me that.”

“What am I supposed to call you?” His brother bit back slightly less brightly.

“I call him sugar tits but I don’t think that’s universal.” Barty offered as he started loading up his plate.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Junior.” James offered cautiously.

“I bet it is, Potter.”

Sirius sighed as if he’d been dealing with the likes of toddlers all morning and not 37 seconds of Barty Crouch Junior. “The polite thing to say would be ‘it’s nice to see you too, James’.”

Barty froze with his fork half way to his mouth as he furrowed his brows at Sirius. “No it wouldn’t; it’s not polite to lie, Black.”

“I brought another friend you can try to converse with.” Regulus spat hastily.

“Pretend I’m not here; that’s what I’m doing.” You sighed as you resigned yourself to your fate.

“Well, this is off to a good start.” Remus said with a smirk as he flipped a page in his book.

You did suppose Lupin was the least…abrasive of him and his boyfriends. You’d had a chance to get to know him last year during prefect rounds; and while you didn’t appreciate how much he let his fellow Marauders get away with, he was relatively nice. In fact, if he had been in any house other than Gryffindor, you may have given him a chance.

His boyfriend’s, though?

You’d rather take your chances with the Giant Squid than spend your lunch hour with them.

Were they attractive? Sure. You may be contemptuous, but you weren’t blind.

But they always seemed to be on; there was never a moment of silence with those two nearby, and you often found yourself bracing for impact whenever they were around.

“Looking as smashing as ever, L/N.” James said as he shot you a wink.

Case in point.

“If I threw a stick, you’d leave right?” You sneered and turned towards your sandwich.

“Nice!” Barty cheered at the same time as Remus muttered “easy kitten; play nice.”

You started to feel the familiar sensation of your consciousness being pulled elsewhere. It felt as though you were being submerged under cold water, and the neurons firing in your brain were being gently lifted and ushered towards a new reality.

“What’s wrong dollface?” Sirius asked you earnestly.

You sucked in a shaky breath as you tried to hide the trembling in your hands. “I just don’t feel very good.” You whispered, not trusting your voice to get through a sentence without sobbing.

“Oh, my poor girl. Come here sweets.” He repositioned himself from laying on his stomach to sitting cross legged and opening his arms in invitation.

You quickly accepted his offer and curled up in his lap as he wrapped protective arms around you and began to rock you back and forth.

“You’re okay, dolly. You’re just fine.” He murmured with his lips pressed to your hair line. “D’ya wanna stay here with me and the boys tonight?”

You let out a pathetically embarrassing keening sound as you nodded quickly.

“Okay baby; consider it done.”

You sucked in a horrified breath as your consciousness returned and you were once again assaulted by the noises of the Great Hall.

Regulus quickly caught the glass of pumpkin juice you’d just nearly toppled and was holding your wrist tightly in his hand.

You thanked the deities for his seeker reflexes and that he seemed to already know what had happened; this was a relatively routine practice between the two of you this far along in your friendship.

“You’re okay.” He offered without even sparing you a glance as he took a napkin with his free hand to clean up what little you’d spilled.

He kept your wrist in his grip; tracking your pulse as he waited for your heart rate to slow down.

“Was it a good one!?” Barty asked excitedly, alerting you to the fact that it wasn’t just you and Regulus sitting here.

You looked up horrified to see Remus, James, and Sirius all looking at you with various levels of concerns.

“Was what a good one?” Sirius asked bemusedly.

Barty scoffed derisively. “She’s a Seer, Black. Fuck, you’re thick.”

“Barty.” Regulus scolded as he turned to offer you his full attention.

“Are you really?” James asked at the same time as Regulus asked “what did you See?”

“I have to go.” You muttered breathlessly as you grabbed your things and headed towards the exit.

“No fair! Why does she get to leave and I don’t!?” You heard Barty whine as you pushed through the doors to the courtyard.

You were going insane, surely. This was just a bout of madness. You needed psychological help, like one of those muggle mind healers. You could not seriously be having Sights of you dating the Marauders.

“Hey L/N!”

“Fucking hells!” You shrieked as you spun to see Remus and James approaching you, the latter having been the one to call your name.

James still had his ever present smile on his face whilst Remus approached you with slightly more caution.

“Not happy to see us?” Remus asked with a soft smirk across his face.

“I…well,”

Apparently your bumbling was particularly telling to your current mental state, if their furrowed brows and nervous glances to each other were anything to go by.

“No funny quip for us today? You’re not going to tell me that I look like something you could draw with your left hand?” James taunted.

“Go fuck yourself, Potter.” You said with half the amount of derision you’d intended.

“Why? You wanna watch him?” Remus asked.

Okay, everything you ever said about Remus being not as bad as his boyfriends?

Lies.

“For Salazar’s sake, L/N; you sure know how to pick ‘em, huh?” Avery sneered from behind you.

“Speak when you’re spoken to, fuck face.” You barked back.

Avery only scoffed in response.

“Hanging out with Baby Black and his crazy pet that follows him around wasn’t enough; you had to sully yourself with the likes of Gryffindor’s?” Mulciber continued for him.

“You know, I’d be mad too if I looked like someone who has fallen for every MLM scam known to mankind.” James spat; his face taking on a severity you’d never seen from the notoriously sunny-dispositioned boy.

You wondered what else you hadn’t seen from him.

You made a rather hasty and embarrassing retreat after that gave you some…inappropriate thoughts.

You’d been plagued with more Sights since then, having been avoiding them after more images of them fussing and fawning over you (and - perhaps more horrifyingly - you over them), and then out-and-out hiding from them after a particularly… steamy Sight you had.

“You cannot hide in the Slytherin common room forever, Treasure.” Barty sighed as he plopped down beside you on the couch and rested his head on your shoulder.

“Why not?”

“Because Regulus gave them the password to the common room.”

“He what!?” You shrieked as the door opened and in spilled three Gryffindors and one Slytherin.

“There you are, angel!” James cheered as he quickly made his way towards you.

Already with the pet names!?

“Did you really think you could hide from us, dollface?” Sirius winked as he and James took the settee across from you (causing a few younger year Slytherin’s to quickly vacate the area).

“Regulus, how could you?” You seethed at your now ex-friend.

“I’m tired of Barty bailing on me to hide out here with you. Also, I’m not a house elf and will no longer be bringing you your meals.”

You pouted at him before a surprised yelp left your lips as you were lifted up from your seat.

Remus took your place on the sofa and placed you in the space between his thighs.

“Lupin! What are you doing!?”

“Making your dreams come true, gorgeous.” Sirius answered for you.

“They’re not dreams, you absolute mumpsimus. They’re visions of the future.” Barty sneered.

“Even better then.” James continued as he now pulled a scowling Sirius into his side. “We’re starting our future together.”

“You told them!?” You asked Regulus disbelievingly.

“Well you weren’t going to.”

“That was the point!”

“Easy there, dove.” Remus whispered into your ear, causing a shiver to rack through you as your body traitorously melted further into Remus’ embrace.

The only way out of this was clearly going to be the death of you (via Remus’ smoothness, James’ loveliness, and Sirius’ boldness), their murders (at your hands), or stupidly drunk in love.

You weren’t sure which option was worse.

#daily james potter story reblogs #simping for siri #remmy reblogs #poly!marauders reblogs #AHHH I LOVE THIS

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weasel-b33 · 11 days

Text

So Divine ✶ Steve Harrington

18+ / MDNI — literally just smut w/ some fluff, f!reader, petnames (sweetheart, baby) got inspired by @/season4steve's comments (wc: 1k)

Steve was a gentle lover.

Compliments, spontaneous gifts, late-night calls because he wanted to hear your voice before bed. He was always soft and sweet with you, all boyish charm and smiles.

With his parents out of town again, you and Steve had the house all to yourselves. It started innocently. A movie night at his place, cuddling on the couch, the light touch on your hip growing more greedy as the night went on. You tried to ignore it, eyes trained on the screen, but you were still all too aware of his glances and smirks that meant no good.

Your efforts were pointless.

The cheesy horror flick Steve had mindlessly picked out at work turned into background noise when he leaned in and kissed you slow, testing the waters. Your lips melted between his, warmth blossoming in your chest, your skin tingling. Whispers of I want you filled your ears, and you were suddenly putty in his hands—a mindless thing made of flesh and bones.

One thing led to another, and the both of you stumbled up the stairs and to his bedroom, giggling into the other’s mouth.

Your curves and edges, and his scars and birthmarks.

Steve had you pinned beneath him, his sheets wrinkled and a mess, clothes discarded and forgotten. You gasped so prettily for him, your face crumbling with ecstasy every time his hips snapped forward to meet yours, the slow drag of his cock making your head spin.

Even as he took you, Steve was nothing but gentle. Every kiss and touch ghosted over your skin like he was afraid to hurt you.

As if you were a delicate flower, each limb a petal he wanted to preserve, to dote on.

“You’re so pretty,” he rasped out, his nose nudging yours, urging you to look at him.

You keened, cheeks burning, eyes hazy with pleasure. How Steve looked at you was overwhelming—like you were the only good thing in the world.

"Yeah? You like being my pretty girl?"

You nodded and held him tighter, not wanting this to end. Your nails dug into his back, the crescent indents adding to his constellation of moles and freckles.

With Steve, all you saw were stars.

His gaze softened, a crinkle between his brows. "I know you do," he murmured, ducking his head down and kissing your jaw. Steve felt you shiver, your cunt squeezing his cock, snug and warm. He fought the urge to bite your shoulder as he buried himself deeper inside of you. "Fuck, sweetheart. You're killing me."

You wondered if Steve knew how much control he had over you. If he knew that his voice made everything around you feel light. If he knew that, in your mind, he embodied the night sky.

That he was timeless. Divine. A mysterious beauty.

He deserved to know.

But your voice was gone, the words stuck in your throat. The knot in your stomach grew tighter. The inevitable inched closer. You could only utter a meek whimper of his name with your fingers digging into his flesh.

Steve pulled his face from your neck and looked at you, stilling himself. “What, baby?”

He sounded so concerned, so sincere—it just made you want him more.

You whined and pressed the heels of your feet against his ass, begging him to move, to keep fucking you. Thankfully, Steve took the hint, pulling out a few inches before pushing back in, his heart swelling with pride when you whimpered.

Steve knew you were close. He could fucking feel it.

"Keep squeezing me like that—holy shit," Steve groaned, almost whining, as your cunt pulsated around his cock. "You're close, huh? You gonna come for me?"

Overwhelmed, you shut your eyes. It was too much. Steve's body flushed with yours, your ears buzzing, your heart pounding so hard it rattled your ribcage—it was all too much.

And Steve noticed. He always noticed.

Soft and soothing, he whispered your name and grasped your chin, your skin warming under his fingertips.

"Look at me."

Reluctantly, you opened your eyes. Steve smiled the same smile that swept you off your feet the first time you met him. He leaned his forehead against yours, his usual sweet brown eyes hardened with lust, with the desire to please you.

"There we go," Steve murmured, kissing your lips. He let go of your chin and moved his hand, his large palm enveloping the side of your face. You leaned into his touch, your brows drawing tightly together as Steve kept fucking you nice and slow. "You still with me, yeah?"

You nodded, mind-numbing.

"Yeah," he cooed, his mouth hovering over yours, breaths mingling. A pitiful whine escaped you, and he swallowed it with another kiss. "You're okay. You're doing so good."

It was all tangled heat and longing. Your hands trailed into his hair, soft and roots drenched with sweat. Mouths hung open, moans and gasps, your hearts becoming one.

Steve grunted, head dipping down into the crook of your neck, his hips rocking into yours. "C'mon, baby, give it to me."

You were at his mercy, unprotected, bare of armor.

The knot snapped.

Pleasure erupted in the pit of your belly and wrecked through you. You cried out his name in gasps and moans, your legs locking around his waist, fingers tugging at his hair. Steve whimpered as if he was wounded, his thrusts faltering, tongue swirling over your pulse points, and teeth nipping at your skin.

Wrapped up in the other and your sweaty limbs entangled, the intensity died down, heavy breaths filling the air. Neither of you moved—a silent agreement to stay connected a little longer.

"I love you," Steve whispered, leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw until he reached your mouth. He stared at you with adore-filled eyes, his cheeks flushed and hair disheveled from your own doing. "I love you so much."

Through your haze, you grinned, fingers sowing through his hair, "I love you more."

Steve snorted, shaking his head. "Impossible."

author's note: yay i finally finished something!!!!! it had been such a long time since i wrote smut so i'm sorry if this wasn't up to par LMAO but i love me some soft and sappy sex

anyways i hope you enjoyed this!!! tysm for reading! <3

#nsfw reblogs :))#silly stevie reblogs #GOOD GOD.#i love soft fluffy smut it makes me whole again.

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weasel-b33 · 11 days

Text

EY ITS FINALS SEASON!

GOOD LUCK ON YOUR EXAMS!

GOOD LUCK ON YOUR ESSAYS!

GOOD LUCK ON YOUR PRESENTATIONS!

GOOD LUCK ON YOUR FINAL PROJECTS!

GOOD LUCK!!! YOU’VE MADE IT THIS FAR!!

and a gentle reminder to take breaks, and get a snack and some water. Don’t forget to take a moment to breathe.

and if you can, try to do something nice for yourself after its all over. No matter how it turns out, you struggled and you survived so you deserve something nice :)

#me currently so stressed bc i have two weeks left of classes and so much work to do!#but yesss!!#sending good positive vibes to everyone!!#even if you aren’t in school. still take the good vibes!!

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weasel-b33 · 11 days

Text

“1985” by bo burnham but it’s literally about steve harrington.

#mia rambles

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weasel-b33 · 13 days

Text

episode one: suzie, do you copy?

Steve sighs. “Those kids are manipulating your power over me to get what they want.” “You call it manipulation, I call it bonding.” Another sigh escapes Steve. “You’re going to be the death of me.” “And yet you stay.” You tease. “And yet I stay.”

Summary: you help nancy sneak through jonathans window, the party uses you for your "in" with steve, and you sorta become the reason dustin almost blinds lucas. meanwhile, steve tries, and fails, to make you his girlfriend (this will happen all summer), but have no fear ! dustin intercepts a russian code and makes everything even harder for everyone. what a sweet brother <3

Rating: general, swearing

Warnings: allusions to violence, swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n

Words: 9.6k

Before you swing in: shes here !!! season 3 of come home <333 im so excited for yall to read what i have planned, and thank you so much for being so patient as i planned the season out and started the chapters :) season 3 is pure chaos and i hope yall love what ive created, im proud of the changes i made <3333 we get some more insight into bug this season, which i also hope yall love !

June 27th, 1985.

A summer breeze gently creeps into Jonathan’s room, bringing the scent of dandelions and your childhood with it. It’s early evening and Jonathan hums to himself quietly, laying in his bed as he lazily skims through a comic he stole from you last week. You’re next to him as you carefully cut pieces of construction paper to glue onto the posterboard. Dustin comes home from camp in a few days and you want his welcome home banner to be perfect.

In the other room you hear the floorboards creak, followed by the sound of Joyce and Will laughing at whatever movie they’ve put on in the living room. Hearing their laughs makes you smile; it’s been so long since you’ve heard them laugh.

The tune that Jonathan hums now becomes a familiar one, and absent mindedly you begin to hum along with him. The cool summer night’s air encases the two of you, as if it senses that you want to freeze this moment forever. You’re in the Byers home, pressed against Jonathan’s side as you hum together an old song from when you were both fourteen and thought you had the world all figured out,

It’s nice, having this moment all to yourself with him. Moments alone with him have become few and far between, and it saddens you to think about.

There’s a new mall in town, Starcourt, and within a few months of it opening, Bookstrordinary has slowly been edging out of business. The entire town of Hawkins quickly fell in love with the mall, but with this love came the abandonment of downtown Hawkins.

Mrs. Waters can barely afford to have you work more than a few hours a day, so you’ve been spending your days visiting Nancy and Jonathan at their internship at the Hawkins Post or hanging at Scoops Ahoy to see Steve and Robin. While your friends have been lovely, you can’t swallow down the fear that you’ll lose your job by the end of summer.

As if somehow reading your thoughts, Jonathan puts down his comic and pokes your cheek. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask if you and Nance thought of anything else to try and save Bookstrordinary.”

You glue down a letter and try to distract yourself with the miniscule task. Nancy has been brainstorming a million ideas to try and help Mrs. Water, and while you appreciate her effort, it’s no use. Swallowing down even more dread, you shake your head at Jonathan. “No, nothing. Nancy offered to help organize a book drive to get more customers, but…”

“It wouldn’t be enough.” Jonathan finishes for you.

“Not nearly enough,” you sigh, desperately wanting to change the topic now. “But besides me possibly losing my job soon, how has yours been at the Hawkins Post?”

Now it’s Jonathan’s turn to sigh. “It’s… okay? I guess. I–I mean, definitely not what I expected it to be. The hours suck and the men are awful, but…” he shifts uncomfortably and looks away from you, embarrassed. “A job is a job.”

You rub his arm, understanding what he means. The Byers have always struggled with money, but ever since Will went missing two years ago and Jonathan lost his last job at the Hawk movie theater, it’s only gotten worse. They’ve tried hiding it, but last week you sneakily paid for Will’s ice cream at Scoops Ahoy while no one else was looking.

“I get it, bee.” You reassure him, hating that he even feels embarrassed in the first place.

Jonathan smiles and leans into your touch, appreciative of the fact that you know his family well enough by now to understand all he’s too ashamed to say. The two of you sit quietly for a few moments before he tries to lighten the mood with something else. “You excited for your birthday, bug?”

“Ugh,” you shake your head in disgust, which Jonathan laughs at. He knows you’ve never really liked your birthday. “Don’t remind me.”

“It’s in a few days, so you gotta suck it up.” Jonathan flicks your forehead and you swat your hand at him. “Besides, I bet $5 that Steve has some grand proposal planned for your birthday this year. He’s spent the entire summer drooling over you.”

His words make you blush furiously. “He has not–”

“He definitely has,” Jonathan tries to flick you again but you dodge, giggling. “I’m surprised he hasn’t publicly declared your love for you yet. I think there’s a betting pool going around the party.”

You gasp. “You’re lying!”

“Nope. Lucas and Max both lost last week, they bet mid June. Now it’s only me, Nancy, Will, and Dustin in the running.”

“What about Mike and El?”

“Mike didn’t want to encourage you dating Steve and the party agreed it felt unfair to have El gamble seeing as how she’s, ya know, still getting used to being in society.”

Despite yourself, you laugh. The idea is so bizarre and lovely, knowing how invested everyone is in your alleged love life, and it makes the worry you’ve been feeling fade away. “Can I join the pool? If I actually lose my job, I’ll need the money.”

Jonathan scoffs at you. “That goes against every gambling rule–”

“Please? I could be poor soon!”

“No, it’s not going to happen–”

“But–”

A knock on the window cuts you off. The two of you look up at the sound and find Nancy standing outside, waving and smiling. You hurry over to let her in, happy as always to see her. She’s been spending more and more nights at Jonathan’s, always sneaking in through the window.

It’s disgusting, and you couldn’t be happier for them.

Jonathan helps the girl climb through the window and greets her with a kiss to the forehead. “Hey, Nance.”

She smiles up at him with a shine in her eyes, and you know it’s time to leave. It’s getting late, anyways. You start to gather your banner supplies as you greet Nancy yourself. “Welcome back, Wheeler.”

“Hello to you too, Henderson.”

You wink at the girl and quickly ruffle Jonathan’s hair. “I’m going home, bee. My mom wants me to help prep Dustin’s room and I wanna have his banner done by tomorrow.”

“Bike home safe, please.” He says with a stern finger pointed at you.

Rolling your eyes, you give a mocking salute to Nancy and Jonathan. “Use protection, kids. I’m too young to be an aunt.”

Nancy gasps while Jonathan practically trips over his own two feet at your words, and you laugh. You leave them alone to compose themselves, closing the door to Jonathan shouting, “That wasn’t funny!”

You’re still giggling to yourself when you walk into the living room and see Joyce and Will sprawled on the couch. Their movie has just finished, the credits are rolling as you stand next to the TV and wave goodbye to them.

“You leaving so soon?” Joyce asks, surprised to even see you leave Jonathan’s room in the first place.

“Yeah, gotta finish up Dustin’s welcome home banner,” you hold up your supplies. Then, through the house’s thin walls, you all hear Nancy’s soft giggle. At the sound, you lean in close to Joyce and Will and dramatically whisper, “Plus, between the three of us, company came, so…”

Will’s eyes widen. “Yuck!”

Joyce chuckles, remembering how in love she was at Jonathan’s age back then. “Would I be a bad parent if I told Nancy she could just use the front door?”

“I don’t think so, but it’s fun watching them think they’re getting away with it.” You steal a piece of candy from the bowl Will had been eating out of, and he holds it up higher so that you can grab more. “Thanks, little bee.”

“You think it’s fun teasing Nancy and Jonathan now, Y/N, but when you’re the one sneaking in through a boy’s window one day…” Joyce shrugs, a twinkle in her eye. “You’ll understand.”

Will looks up at you with his own evil glint in his eyes, and before you can stop him, he turns to his mom and says, “I wonder how high Steve Harrington’s window is.”

You pretend to attack Will and he giggles as he flees his seat and runs to the other side of the living room. “Will Byers I will spit in your cookies–”

Joyce covers her mouth and gasps. “Y/N, are you hiding a boyfriend from me?”

Quickly you stop chasing after Will, terrified of the idea of the woman thinking you’d hide anything from her. “What? No! I’m not dating Steve–”

“Yet!” Will exclaims from across the room, but his retaliation is followed by a shriek as you chase after the kid again.

“If you keep this up, I’m telling Steve to stop letting y’all sneak into the movies!” You threaten as you chase the boy around the room.

Joyce watches in amusement, she’s never been able to take her eyes off of you when you’re with her boys. Will dodges a grab and you stumble, giving him just enough time to hide behind his mom’s armchair.

He pokes his head out at your threat, his eyes now uncertain. “You wouldn’t really tell Steve that, right?”

Catching your breath, you collapse onto the couch and shake your head at him. “No, little bee. I wouldn’t.”

You’d never do that to Will. He’s been so keen on spending as much time as possible with the party this summer, spending each and every moment planning DnD campaigns and biking all over Hawkins to spend mere seconds together. Will has spent all summer trying as hard as possible to be a kid again because so much of his childhood was stolen by Upside Down.

Will slowly gets up from behind the armchair and sits next to you, relieved. “Okay, good. We wanna see a movie tomorrow night and I already promised everyone you’d get Steve to let us in. That would’ve sucked.”

You and Joyce laugh at the boy’s response, and it feels so good to have this moment with the two of them. You allow it to wash over you for a second, the Byers home has always had such a comforting effect on you, before getting up and gathering your things once more. “I really should go, though. My mom is waiting.”

Joyce and Will say goodbye and tell you to be safe on your way home, and it warms something within you. As you bike down their driveway home, you inhale the summer night’s air and wonder, days before you turn seventeen, how much longer you have left of just this: being a little kid going home after a long day.

–

When you get home, Tews greets you with an angry meow.

The cat had been a Christmas gift for your mom from you and Dustin, seeing as how you accidentally killed Mews. Your mom had cried seeing the little kitten, and had cried even harder when your brother suggested the stupid name “Tews.”

But it stuck, and now Tews glares at you as you take your time feeding her.

In Dustin’s room you can hear your mom rustling around, frantically cleaning the place as if it currently isn’t the cleanest it’s ever been since the kid has been gone all month. After you feed Tews, you make your way over to your brother’s room to help with cleaning.

A few hours later, you’re laying in bed, exhausted from your long day. Dustin’s banner sits on your desk, right next to the phone that resides in the corner. Yawning, you glance at the clock, but when you see the time, you smile.

The phone rings.

“Right on time, honey.”

“Aren’t I always, angel?” Steve’s voice soothes your aching bones, his words like honey, the very thing you’ve come to associate with him.

Phone calls have become more and more common between you and Steve. You’re not sure when this tradition formed, but when you aren’t at Scoops and he isn’t at your house infiltrating your family, you’re on the phone with one another.

Hearing Steve’s voice puts you at ease, and it wasn’t long before you started calling each other before bed every night.

“How was your day?” You ask him, spinning the phone’s cable around your finger as you lay in bed.

Steve lets out a dramatic groan. “I swear, after you left today, Robin intentionally amped up her taunts. It’s like you’re her buffer or something. The second you leave,” you hear him snap his fingers, “she turns against me!”

“Robin would never do that.” Your voice is monotone as you say this, which only makes Steve groan dramatically once more. Robin would most definitely do that; you both know this.

“You two are the worst together.”

“Yeah, well,” you pull your blankets up to your chin and readjust into a comfier position. Your eyes feel heavy and Steve’s voice settles over your body. “Prepare for more pain tomorrow night. Will and the party have grand plans to sneak into yet another movie.”

Steve sighs. “Those kids are manipulating your power over me to get what they want.”

“You call it manipulation, I call it bonding.”

Another sigh escapes Steve. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“And yet you stay.” You tease.

“And yet I stay.”

You bite back a smile; you can almost perfectly envision Steve laying in his own bed, phone pressed to his ear with his hair messy and eyes half lidded as he talks to you. You wish, more than anything, that you could be there with him right now; instead, you fall asleep to the sound of Steve’s voice, slightly raspy from his own exhaustion.

–

The next day you wake up to an empty house. Your mom has been spending her summer at Hawkin’s pool, like all the moms in town now do, to admire Billy at his new job.

It grosses you out to no end, and when your mom comes home some days swearing that Billy winked at her, you have to swallow down the phantom pain of his fingers wrapping around your windpipe.

By the time you get to work, Downtown Hawkins, as always, is a ghost town.

It’s been this way ever since Starcourt opened, and as you park your bike and lock it up, you can’t help but be unnerved by how quiet everything is. It was only a few years ago that you had to scream at a crowd of onlookers when Jonathan and Joyce had had that fight when they had found Will’s body in the quarry.

Now, walking slowly towards the front doors of Bookstrordinary, all you hear is silence in the once lively area. There are posters scattered throughout the old town, but they’re worn from the sunlight and torn from the weather. It’s a depressing sight.

Mrs. Waters greets you kindly when you walk in. “Hello, dear.”

“Hi, Mrs. Waters.” You give her a quick peck on the cheek as you quickly swipe your card to clock in. The bookstore is empty. “Any new shipments today?”

The old woman shakes her head forelonly. “Afraid not. We still haven’t sold last month’s shipment.”

You duck your head down and curse. This is the second shipment you weren’t able to sell. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Waters.”

“Oh, don’t be!” She walks over to you, her wrist shakes as she uses her cane. She has aged so much these last few years. “I’ve owned this store for thirty years, dear. I’m just happy that I can give you and Alex a job before you kids go off to college. Besides, it’s given me something to do these last few years without my husband…”

The woman’s eyes glaze over, something that has started to happen more and more now, and you grab her arm gently and give her a little shake. “Hey, Mrs. Waters. You still with me?”

She blinks, looks around in a confused daze, before breaking into her old smile once more. “Of course I am! Now, sort some books while I ward off those debt collectors with this cane.”

Despite the gravity of the situation, you can’t help but laugh at Mrs. Waters as she waves her cane around madly and gives you a wink. She hobbles back to her office and leaves you alone with the books and the ghost of Downtown Hawkins.

Only two customers come in during your four hour shift, and by midday Mrs. Waters releases you so that she can give Alex a few hours of work as well. She’s trying her best to keep you both hired for as long as she can, so she splits your hours. What she doesn’t know is that Alex now has a job at Hawkins’ pool and only comes into work because he just can’t bear to quit, and neither can you.

You bike to the mall, sad and needing a pick me up. Jonathan’s teasing from last night echoes in your head. How could you possibly think about your birthday when your boss is slowly losing both her mind and her business?

At the mall, your feet unconsciously take you to Scoops as they always do. This has become your favorite part of your dreary days: going to Scoops after work. The smell of ice cream greets you as you walk into the shop.

Robin sees you first and waves excitedly from the register. “Y/N!”

“It’s me!” You run up to the counter and lean over it to squeeze the girl into a tight hug.

There’s a loud crash from the backroom and just as you’ve pulled away from Robin, Steve bursts through the doors and leaps over the counter to join in on the hug. “Thank God you’re here, Robin was about to make me clean the tables.”

You giggle while Robin scoffs, pulling away. “It’s your turn, dingus.”

Steve, still hugging you from behind, hums. He begins to rock you back and forth in his arms, which only makes you giggle more, while he pretends to think about what the girl has said. “Nope, don’t remember it being my turn.”

Robin gives you a pleading look to back her up, and you reluctantly slide your arms over Steve’s and release his grip. He groans in complaint at the loss of your touch, and you roll your eyes at him as you turn around to now face him. “C’mon, let’s go wipe the tables so dear Robin can man the register in peace.”

Steve groans even louder now as Robin cheers, and you snatch the rag from his pocket and begin to wipe down the tables. He follows eventually, moaning and groaning as he cleans next to you, and you hit your hip against his. “Hey, at least you’re getting paid for this.”

“I give you free ice cream!” He argues, pieces of his hair falling out of his adorably dorky sailor’s hat that he has to wear for this job. It’s incredibly endearing, and as he hunches over to scrub at a particularly dirty table, his thighs strain against his probably too short shorts and you can’t help but stare at them. As you admire this spectacular show, Steve catches you and flicks your nose. “Quit ogling me and get back to your free labor, angel.”

“I wasn’t ogling, I was simply admiring.”

Robin gags from behind the register. “I can hear you guys, you know!”

You and Steve both stick your tongues out at her before going back to work.

The hours pass by quickly after that. The midday rush of tweens and teens alike infiltrate Scoops, so Steve helps Robin fling ice cream while you get comfortable in your designated booth in the corner. You’ve hidden a supply of comics underneath one of the booth’s cushions and you spend your time catching up on the latest Spider-Man arc.

You’re so engrossed in what you’re reading that you don’t notice a body slide into the booth next to you until the person speaks.

“Spider-Man, huh? Heard he’s a pretty cool guy.”

Startled by the stranger’s voice, you almost drop your comic in alarm. When you see that it’s just Jason Carver sitting next to you, you place a hand to your chest and inhale quickly, trying to settle your rapid heartbeat. “Christ, you scared me.”

“Sorry!” He genuinely looks apologetic, so you wearily set down your comic and straighten up.

You’ve never spoken to Jason before, even though you’ve been in the same classes ever since eighth grade. He’s always ran with the popular crowd, being a jock and all, and you’ve always ran with Jonathan. However, despite being on the basketball team, Jason has never been mean to either of you, so you figure it’s safe to offer him your attention.

“Can I ask why you’re here?” You cock your head at him, feeling your hair fall over your shoulders.

Jason smiles at you, in a sort of cute and charming way. “Stopped by to get my little sister some ice cream,” he points to a little girl next to him, who waves at you, and you wave back. “Then I saw you sitting here all alone reading one of my favorite comics, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to say hi to such a pretty girl.”

You blush at his bold words. You’ve never received such attention from anyone before, at least not anyone normal thanks to Billy, and you’re not really sure why Jason seems to be paying attention to you now. He’s had years to do this.

Jason sees your sudden shyness and chuckles. He stands up and offers you his hand. “Why don’t I buy you some ice cream, maybe you could help me show my sister around the mall–” Steve’s shoulder collides roughly into the teen’s, causing him to stumble into his sister’s ice cream cone and get chocolate ice cream all over the front of his pants. Jason looks up at Steve and balls his fists in anger. “What the fuck, Harrington?”

You quickly cover the little girl’s ears, though she giggles.

Steve shrugs as he looks at Jason. “Sorry, man. Didn’t see you there.” Then, he turns to you, and offers his own hand. “Anyways, I think it’s time for your daily free ice cream, angel.”

Jason’s eyes narrow as you accept Steve’s hand and spare him an apologetic glance. Before you leave, you dig some cash out of your overalls and hand them to him. “For your sister’s new ice cream cone.”

He sighs and accepts the money. Jason knows that Steve is still holding your hand as he stands behind you, but he has nothing else to lose at this point. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “I didn’t stand a chance, did I?”

Steve twirls you with your interlocked hands, causing you to giggle, and guides you to the ice cream counter. As he leaves, shouts behind him, “Not at all, buddy!”

You know you should feel bad, but Steve twirls you again and all you can do is giggle breathlessly as Jason Carver walks out of Scoops with his sister in tow.

–

Later that night the mall is busier than ever, and as you’re gossiping with Robin about Steve ruining Jason’s pants, you’re interrupted by Mike’s grubby little hand repeatedly hitting the bell.

Seems it’s time for their movie.

You flick the kid’s head, which Lucas, Max, and Will snicker at. “Enough!”

“Ow, Y/N!”

“Thanks,” Robin sends you an appreciative smile before she calls towards the backroom, “Dingus, your children are here!”

Within seconds, Steve opens the sliding windows and sighs when he sees Mike and the party. “Again? Seriously?”

“I warned you.” You say, shrugging at his annoyance. “Let the kids have some fun.”

Mike rings the bell again. “Do what Y/N says.”

Steve sighs in defeat and motions for the kids to follow him behind the counter. “Fine, but only because I’m nice, not because Y/N said so.”

“Right.” Everyone says, not at all believing him, which Steve chooses to ignore.

You all follow him through the back entrance of the mall. Checking to make sure the coast is clear, Steve waves the kids inside. “I swear, if anybody hears about this–”

“We’re dead.” The kids all respond, voices monotone with annoyance after hearing this threat a million times.

However, before they all leave, Will gently tugs at your hand to get your attention. “Are you coming with?”

You want to say yes, but then you catch Steve’s eyes and he silently pleads with you to stay, and you know you can’t tell him no. Squeezing Will’s hand, you shake your head. “Sorry, little bee. I promise I will next time, though.”

Mike scoffs in disgust, disappointed in you. Your relationship with Steve has always confused him, and you’ve only gotten closer to the teen since Dustin left for camp. He pities what the boy will think when he comes back to his sister all lovey-dovey with an idiot like Steve Harrington.

Once the kids leave, you go back into Scoops with Steve and settle into your booth once more. Grabbing your comic, you flip to where you left off before looking up at the teen and saying, “you have me for another hour. I can’t be out late tonight, Dustin comes home tomorrow and I promised Mike I’d be up at like seven to let everyone in.”

Steve salutes you and hops back behind his counter to help Robin with some customers. You smile at his antics and go back to reading. A few minutes pass, Spider-Man has just kissed MJ, before the lights above you start to flicker and then go out completely.

Everyone in the mall gasps and murmurs in a slight panic as they’re thrown into darkness. The hair on your arms stands up; you no longer trust lights that flicker. Robin catches your eye and gives you an odd look when she sees the fear on your face.

“Scared of the dark, Y/N?” She teases, not understanding what you really fear: what lies below Hawkins.

“That’s weird,” Steve mumbles to himself as he goes over to the light switch. He starts to flip the switch repeatedly, and you roll your eyes at him. He’s an idiot sometimes.

“That isn’t gonna work, dingus.” Robin says, looking over at you once more as if to silently ask, why are you attracted to him?

You shake your head at her as Steve continues to flip the switch, now only quickening his movements. He stares Robin down as if to challenge her. “Oh, really?”

Nothing happens, because contrary to what Steve may believe, he can’t fix what is likely (and what you hope) is simply a blackout from the summer heat. He flicks the lightswitch a few more times before the generators kick back on and Scoops Ahoy is once again lit up.

Steve raises his eyebrows at Robin and smirks at her, pleased. “See? Let there be light.”

You drop your head to the table, now also questioning why you’re attracted to the guy.

However, when it’s time to head home and Steve walks with you to your bike outside, he kisses your cheek and wishes you a good night; you know that this is the reason you’ve fallen for him: his kindness. With his kiss lingering on your cheek, you bike home.

–

When Steve gets back from saying goodbye to you, he’s met with a nosey Robin.

She stands against the counter with her arms crossed. There aren’t any more customers in the shop, they closed about ten minutes ago, and Steve was really looking forward to driving home and taking off his stupid uniform.

Robin, however, clearly has other plans.

“What did I do now?” He asks her, not daring to take any step closer.

“Why haven’t you asked Y/N out yet?” Steve’s eyes widen at the question and Robin knows she’s got him cornered. “I’ve spent hours with you guys, and it’s driving me insane that you haven’t manned up!”

“‘Manned up’?” Steve sputters out, completely offended.

Robin throws her arms out in front of her. “Yes! I mean, it’s so obvious that you’re in love with her and that she’s in love with you. Just… Just get it over with!”

Blushing, Steve slumps against the wall and closes his eyes. As much as it pains him to admit it, he knows that Robin is right. “It’s… complicated.”

“Well, go on.” The girl now hops on the counter and sits on it. “Explain it to me, then.”

“Y/N used to be in love with…” Steve stops, unsure if you’d want him to be telling Robin this. “Someone.”

She rolls her eyes. “Everyone knows she was in love with that Byers kid.”

“Right.” He clears his throat, uncomfortable with the reminder that at one point, everyone in Hawkins truly believed you were destined for Jonathan. “Well as I’m sure you know… He got with Nancy, who–uh, I had been with.”

“Okay, so what?”

“I–” Steve isn’t sure what Robin doesn’t understand. “I needed… time?”

Robin frowns. “After Nancy dumped you?”

“Technically I dumped her–”

“What does this have to do with Y/N?” Robin presses.

Steve groans and rubs at his eyes. He’s tired and wants to go home to call you and go to bed with your soft voice in his head. “Y/N understood that the breakup with Nancy hurt, and–well. She told me she’d wait for me. I guess. While I figured my shit out.”

Robin thinks this over for a minute. “Okay, I think I can understand that, but–wait, when did this all happen again?”

“... December.” He closes his eyes, bracing himself for the girl’s inevitable anger.

“Harrington!”

There it is.

“I know, okay?” Steve tugs at his hair in frustration. “I’m over Nancy, I’ve been over her since at least April, but… But what–what if Y/N has lost interest in me now? What if–maybe I made her wait too long, or–or what if she thinks she’s just Nancy’s replacement?”

Steve is rambling now, months of his anxious and insecure thoughts now spilling out. “I mean, it’d kill me if–if I ever made her feel second to anyone! She’s… She’s incredible and–God, I don’t even know why she likes me and I’ve spent this entire summer trying to–I don’t know… Figure out how to confess my feelings to her in a way that matters, ya know? Like, a grand proposal to show her that I’m crazy about her.”

Robin is silent for several minutes after Steve’s frantic spiel, he’s panting by the time he’s done. Then, finally, she says, “Dude… You’re way overthinking this.”

Steve winces. “I mean, her birthday is in a few days. I can… I can ask her to be my girlfriend then. That’s romantic, right?”

“You’re hopeless.”

–

“Dusty comes home today!” Your mom’s shrill voice wakes you up as she prances around the house getting ready. You roll over in bed and stretch, tired but excited to see your brother again after a month of being apart.

You get out of bed and press a kiss to your mother’s cheek before telling her to drive safe. Glancing at the clock, you see that you have just enough time to shower before the party arrives. The entire thing had been Mike’s plan and you were more than happy to help arrange everything.

After you’ve gotten ready, you hear three swift knocks on your front door and you answer it. “Right on time, Wheeler.”

Mike salutes you as he and the others walk in. El gives you a hug and Max high fives you as the boys start setting up the robots. The six of you get started on the plan: place all the robots in Dustin’s room, all hidden in various corners, and then use El’s powers to control them and guide him to the living room so that you all can surprise him.

It’s a brilliant plan, one only a Wheeler could think of.

It takes you, Lucas, Mike, and Will to successfully hang up Dustin’s banner that took you all week to make. There’s cursing, yelling, a few trips, and multiple snickers from El and Max while the four of you struggle to hang the thing, but eventually you manage to secure the banner into place in the living room.

Just as you’ve finished hanging it up, you hear your mom’s car pull into the driveway and you quickly shove the kids into a closet. “Quick! That’s my mom’s car, hide!”

Lucas yelps and Max punches his shoulder to shut him up, but thankfully you manage to close the closet door just in time before Dustin walks in. You hide behind the couch, quiet so as not to be seen by him, and carefully listen for his footsteps to retreat down the hall and into his room.

Once he’s gone, you scramble towards the closet and open the door. “Okay, he’s in his room, time for step two.”

“Did we all really have to hide in the closet?” Will asks, rubbing at his shoulder that had been shoved into a hanger.

“Yes, now shush and hide behind the wall so he doesn’t see you.” You order, and the kids all listen. Once you’re all pressed against the wall, you nod at El. “Ready?”

“Ready.” She responds, closing her eyes. Static fills the air and you hear one of the robots turn on in Dustin’s room. Then the other one turns on, then the monkey, and soon all the toys have been activated by El’s powers.

Mike pokes his head around the corner. “Okay, now start leading the robots here.”

Blood slowly begins to drip from El’s nose and you feel bad that she’s doing this, but the kids all look excited, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little giddy yourself. The noise from the robots grows louder as El draws them out from the room and towards you guys.

You hear Dustin’s uncertain voice following behind them. “It’s just a dream… You’re dreaming.”

Then Mike whispers to El, “Now!”

The robots all die in the center of your living room and slowly everyone starts to creep out from behind the wall. Lucas is holding his own poster he made and you hand everyone party noisemakers. Dustin is investigating the robots and doesn’t hear you stalk up behind him. Max silently counts to three, and on her signal, you all blow your party noisemakers and surprise him.

Dustin screams and immediately holds up his Farrah Fawcett spray, blinding Lucas as he continuously sprays it. The poor boy screams as well and the rest of the kids back away, out of the line of fire. However, as soon as your momentary shock wears off, you manage to snatch the hairspray out of your brother’s hand and save Lucas.

“Why is Farrah Fawcett your weapon of choice?” You exclaim, shoving a still screaming Lucas towards your kitchen so that you flush the spray out of his eyes. Max joins, rubbing soothing circles into the boy’s back.

“Why would you scare me like that after the hell we went through this year?” Dustin shouts back at you, clutching at his chest.

Dustin’s words make you stop for a moment and think. Huh. He has a point. “Yeah, we should’ve thought about that, honestly.”

“A little help here?” Lucas brings the attention back to him and you apologize, helping him once more to flush his eyes out. As you and Max tend to him, Dustin tells the others to follow him to his room so he can show them what he built at camp.

Max splashes some more water in Lucas’ eyes. “Better?”

The boy stands up and wipes his face, though he’s careful not to touch his eyes. “Still stings.”

“I feel like I should call someone…” You mumble, Your first aid knowledge doesn’t include Farrah Fawcett in the eyes.

Lucas blinks a few times and looks around. He leans in closer to Max’s face and for a moment you’re scared he’ll kiss her, but instead he chooses to be an idiot. “Is that a new zit?”

You wince and Max’s eyes widen in disbelief. She looks at you and you both seem to come to the same agreement: grabbing the back of Lucas’ neck, the two of you shove his face back into the water. “What is wrong with you?”

Lucas screams again and you leave Max to deal with him, laughing to yourself as you go see whatever creation your brother has brought home. You love Lucas, you do, but you have no idea how Max puts up with his boyish antics.

Inside Dustin’s room, you find him and the others hunched over a collection of wires and metal pieces. You walk in and join them.

“I would like you to meet Cerebro.” Dustin presents his creation, but you honestly have no idea what it’s supposed to be.

You squint at it. “It’s… Pretty?”

“What exactly are we looking at here?” Mike asks, unimpressed.

“An unassembled, one-of-a-kind, battery powered radio tower!” Dustin explains with a proud smile on his face.

A beat of silence passes before Will carefully asks, “So… It’s a ham radio?”

Dustin’s excitement only grows. “The Cadillac of radios.”

“Still not understanding, buddy.” You now voice, usually always lost when it comes to the more AV stuff the party likes.

“This baby carries a crystal-clear connection over vast differences.” Your brother clarifies for you, and you nod along. “I’m talking North Pole to South. I can talk to my girlfriend whenever and wherever I choose.”

You, Mike, El, and Will all look at each other in shock at the word that has just left Dustin’s mouth. “Girlfriend?”

Your brother nods, looking all smug, and you immediately berate him with a million questions. “What’s her name, where is she from, how long have you been dating. Tell me everything, now!”

“Relax, dear sister. Her name is Suzie, and I’ll explain in a second. We can even talk to her if you guys help me set Cerebro up on Weathertop hill.”

You’re the first to start grabbing all the supplies, giddy and eager to hear more about your baby brother’s girlfriend. It’s almost too good to be true. Mike, Will, and El follow along and soon you’re all holding materials for Cerebro as you follow Dustin out of the house.

As you all leave, Mike starts asking questions again. “Wait, so her name is Suzie?”

Dustin nods. “Suzie, with a ‘z’. She’s from Utah.”

“People from Utah actually exist?” You ask, which the others laugh at.

“Girls go to science camp?” Will asks.

You give him a stern look. “Anyone can go to science camp, Will.”

“What Y/N said,” Dustin continues explaining his girlfriend. “And Suzie does, she’s a genius.”

“Is she cute?” Mike can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“Think Phoebe Cates, only better.”

You re-adjust one of the poles for Cerebro in your arms. “Can we focus on her being smart instead? I think she sounds lovely.”

From the kitchen, Max sees the four of you open the front door as she helps Lucas with his eyes. “What’s going on?”

“We’re going to talk to Dustin’s girlfriend.” Will informs them.

Lucas whips his head up from the sink as he and Max exclaim, “Girlfriend?”

“I know, right?” You say, motioning them to follow.

–

“Alrighty, one scoop of chocolate. That’s a buck twenty-five.” Steve hands the ice cream cone to the girl he’s currently serving. She’s pretty enough, and when he notices her Purdue shirt, he can’t help but say something about it. “Ooh, Purdue! Fancy.”

The girl smiles and hands Steve her change. “Yeah, I’m excited.”

“Yeah, you know… I–I considered it. Purdue.” He types the code into the register and places the change inside. “But then I was like, you know what? I really think I need some real life experience, you know, before I hit college. See what it’s like.”

The girl and the friend she’s with exchange weird glances, and Steve knows he’s rambling like an idiot. “Uh, what I mean is… You’re girls, right? How would the two of you like to be asked out by a guy?”

“I’m sorry?” Purdue girl asks, looking at her friend, creeped out.

The cash register begins to beep at him and Steve hits it a few times to shut it up. “Sorry, uh… Anyways, say you’ve seen this guy every day for like, months, and feelings are shared, you know, as they are. Then time passes and the guy never makes the move because he’s, well, he’s an idiot–”

“Yeah, totally.” Purdue girl interrupts him and her friend giggles.

“Exactly, so… This was, like, so fun. This little chat. Anyways, what do you think? How would you want the guy to ask you out?” Steve puts on his most charming smile, hoping that the girls will say that maybe he isn’t crazy for waiting so long to ask you out. As he hands them their change, he drops part of it. “Oh, sorry about that. Uh…”

“Yeah, we wouldn’t wanna be asked out.” Purdue girl says as her friend snorts.

“Sure, but I mean, it’s complicated, you know? And–”

Purdue girl interrupts him once more. “No, I’m sorry, but it sounds like you missed your chance and you’re like, really weird.”

“But the guy isn’t me!” Steve shouts as the two girls leave, only embarrassing himself even more. He sighs, closes his eyes, and wonders how he got here.

“And another one bites the dust.” Robin announces from behind him. He turns around and watches as she marks another tally underneath the you suck column of her whiteboard. Next to it is the column you rule, which currently has zero marks. “You are oh-for-six, Popeye.”

Steve crosses his arms. “Yeah, I can count.”

“You know that means you suck and that Y/N isn’t the problem here, you are, right?”

“Yup, I can read, too.” Steve swallows down his annoyance, he knows he’s only done this to himself.

“Since when?”

“It’s this stupid hat,” Steve complains, as if this is the only appropriate answer. “I’m telling you, it’s making everyone think I’m some pathetic guy who can’t ask a girl out.”

Robin leans against the window. “Yeah, company policy is the reason that you’re an idiot for not asking out Y/N.” She thinks for a moment and tries to offer the teen some advice. “Ya know, it’s a crazy idea, but have you considered telling the truth?”

“What? That I’m hopelessly in love with her? Sure, I’m such a catch who couldn’t even get into Tech and whose douchebag dad is trying to teach a lesson, now making three bucks an hour with no future.” Steve laughs at himself. “A catch who, by the way, could’ve been hers back in December had he not been a complete moron? What a great truth.”

Robin frowns, now feeling bad for making him feel this way. While she doesn’t understand everything, she gets that Steve has had a difficult few months. Taking pity on him, she points out some girls approaching and tries to lighten his mood. “Hey, twelve o’clock! Maybe they’ll see your side of things.”

Steve turns around and sees the girls as well. “Shit, okay. Okay, I can do this! I’m going in.” He quickly snatches the sailor hat from his head and tosses it to Robin. “Screw company policy, I’m getting advice about Y/N one way or another.”

For a second, Robin has hope for him, but then he opens his Scoops Ahoy greeting way too loud and then immediately starts to ramble about you, and she sighs in defeat and marks another tally underneath the you suck column.

–

Hiking up a giant, grassy hill in ninety degree heat while hauling heavy equipment for a giant radio that your brother built to talk to his alleged long distance girlfriend definitely wasn’t what you had in mind today. In fact, you mourn the fact that you aren’t working today.

You’re only here to hear about Dustin’s girlfriend, honestly.

“Aren’t we high enough?” Lucas pants, voicing what everyone else is thinking.

Dustin shakes his head. “Cerebro works best at a hundred meters.”

“You know, I’m pretty sure people in Utah have telephones.” Max quips.

You wipe sweat from your brow and cringe, you feel disgusting. “Max, you’ve always been so wise.”

“Suzie’s Mormon.” Says Dustin, and you almost trip over a rock.

“You’re dating a Mormon?”

Lucas talks over you. “Oh, shit. She doesn’t have electricity?”

“Oh, that’s the Amish.” Max corrects him, and you get flashbacks to when you had to correct Steve about Nazis and Germans.

Will frowns at you. “What are Mormons?”

“Scary people–”

Dustin interrupts you. “Super religious white people. They have electricity and cars and stuff, but… Since I’m not Mormon, her parents would never approve.”

“Please don’t become Mormon,” you beg, dripping even more sweat. “I need someone sane in our family.”

“I won’t,” Dustin reassures you, though he has a far off look in his eyes. “But it’s all a bit Shakespearean, don’t you think?”

“Shakespearean?” Max laughs and you also can’t help but giggle.

Dustin doesn’t let your teasing deter him from reminiscing, though. “Yeah, like Romeo and Juliet.”

“They both die, Dustin.” It’s important to you that he knows this.

“But they were also star crossed lovers.”

“Who killed themselves.”

Below, Mike shouts to the rest of you, “Hey, guys!”

You all turn and you frown when you see just how far he and El are, both of them empty handed and dry as a daisy in the summer heat. When Mike sees that he has all of your attention, he taps at his watch. “This is fun and all, but, uh…”

“I have to go home.” El announces, her arm intertwined through Mike’s.

Dustin points towards the top of the hill no less than a few yards away. “We’re almost there.”

“Sorry, man. Curfew.” Mike shrugs, he isn’t really sorry and you all know it. He then grabs El’s hand and they descend down the hill, giggling and enamored with one another.

With a gleeful laugh, El says goodbye. “Good luck!”

Dustin looks down at his watch. “Curfew at four?”

You’re startled by the time, having assumed it was at least closer to six. Hopper may be an overprotective grump of a man, but not even he is crazy enough to enact a curfew for El at four in the afternoon. “That… Doesn’t sound real.”

“They’re lying.” Lucas explains, frustrated.

“It’s been like this all summer.” Will says bitterly, something that you take note of.

Max nudges you with her shoulder. “I think it’s romantic.”

“It’s gross!” Will voices again.

You bite your lip. “I don’t know, it’s your guys’ last summer before high school and…”

“It’s bullshit.” Dustin finishes for you, hurt in his voice. “I just got home.”

You flick him. “Language! But… I agree.”

Dustin watches with annoyance as Mike and El walk down the hill hand in hand. While he’s incredibly hurt that they’ve ditched him after being gone for a month, he remembers what Steve has taught him. People can suck, but there’s nothing he can do about it. “Well, their loss, right? Onwards and upwards, Suzie awaits!”

Max and Lucas groan at the idea of continuing the hike while you admire your brother’s perseverance. You’re proud of him for not letting Mike and El ruin his plans with the others. He’s excited to be home, and you’re more than happy to go along with whatever schemes he has planned.

You’re about to follow the others up the hill when you realize that Will hasn’t joined. You turn around and see that he has his hand around the back of his neck as he stands there, frozen. Then, he turns and faces Hawkins, stumbling back a bit as he does so, and you watch with a frown on your face.

“Hey, little bee, are you okay?” You gently place a hand on his shoulder, which seems to break him of whatever spell he’d been under.

“I’m fine,” he lies, and you don’t at all believe him. Will looks uneasy, as if he’s just seen a ghost. A part of you begins to worry, but you don’t push him. For all you know, it could be about Mike and his growing distance from the others.

“Well, c’mon, then.” You grab Will’s hand and together you ascend the rest of the hill.

At the top, Dustin drops his bag and sighs. “Made it!”

“Yeah, only took five hours,” Max pants out, stumbling the final few steps up the hill.

You collapse onto the ground and fight to catch your breath. “I run almost every morning. I think I lost a lung back there.”

“Why couldn’t we just play DnD?” Will collapses next to you.

Lucas grabs the flask of water, and as you struggle to get air into your lungs, you watch as he chugs the remaining water without a care in the world. Max watches as well, annoyed, and once again you pity Lucas. He’s such a boy.

Building the radio takes longer than expected. After your short five minute break, Dusin puts you all to work. There’s a million pieces to the thing and your fingers ache from screwing bolts into slots and extending poles. The sun has begun to set when you finally push the giant radio into an upright position. It’s easily fifteen feet high, and it’s an impressive sight that you can’t deny.

“Not bad, Dustin.” You admit, walking around Cerebro in awe.

“Ready to meet my love?” He asks everyone, and you all sit down next to him and eagerly await. Dustin switches the radio on. “Suzie, this is Dustin. Do you copy? Over.”

No one answers. All you hear is radio feedback.

Dustin scratches his nose nervously. “One sec. She’s probably… She’s still there.” Again, no one answers, and he ducks his head down in embarrassment. “Suzie… This is Dustin, do you copy? Over.”

More radio static follows in the absence of Suzie’s response.

You wince, despite trying to appear supportive. You can’t help it, this is embarrassing for your brother. While you don’t doubt that he has a girlfriend, you admit that this doesn’t look good for him. A long distance girlfriend who is hot and smart and magically needs a radio to communicate with? Unlikely.

“I’m sure she’s there,” Dustin tries to explain to you guys, now even more embarrassed. “It’s dinner time, and she’s busy…”

“Yeah, sure.” Lucas tries to be supportive and play along, which you appreciate him immensely for. Max nods as well, but Will just stands there silent.

“Maybe try again?” You encourage, trying to be nice.

Dustin nods and tries once more to contact Suzie, and it goes on like this for a while. He radios, no one answers, and eventually you and everyone else lay down in the grass as you wait for nothing.

Almost an hour passes and the crickets begin to chirp as the sun goes down and the moon comes up. Dustin is still trying to reach Suzie, but Max finally has enough. “Dustin, come on! She’s not there.”

“She’s there, alright? She’ll pick up.”

“Dustin…” You sigh, unsure how to tell him that you also want to leave. You had plans with Steve tonight, he invited you over to watch a movie and you should’ve left ten minutes ago.

Will lifts his head up from the grass. “Maybe Cerebro doesn’t work.”

“Or maybe Suzie doesn’t exist.” Lucas argues.

Dustin gasps. “She exists!”

“She’s a genius and she’s hotter than Phoebe Cates? No girl is that perfect.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose at Lucas’ words and wait for Max’s inevitable offense. He truly, deeply, is such a boy. As predicted, Max sits up and looks down at him with annoyance. “Is that so?”

Lucas shuffles up in panic, now realizing too late what he’s said. “I mean–you’re perfect! I mean, like, perfect–in your own way, in your own, uh, special way!”

“Lucas,” you hit his shoulder. “Stop talking, dude.”

Max laughs, pleased with herself. “Relax, I was teasing. I’m obviously perfect and Dustin is obviously lying.”

“Okay, no,” you now sit up. “He isn’t lying, it’s just a very unfortunate circumstance.”

Max doesn’t listen and instead offers Lucas her hand to help him up so that they can leave. “Come on, Don Juan.”

“Where are you going?” Dustin follows, not understanding yet what’s happening.

“Home,” Max huffs, before remembering that you’re there, too. “Bye, Y/N!”

“Bye,” you wave at them weakly, knowing that this will only upset your brother further as she and Lucas slowly head home.

Dustin stands next to you now. “Well, guess it’s just us and Byers, Y/N,”

Will now stands up and awkwardly avoids your brother’s gaze. “Um… It’s late. Sorry. Maybe tomorrow we can play DnD, or something fun, like we used to?”

Dustin clenches his jaw. You know he’s close to tears, and it breaks your heart to watch. You stand up and rest your arm around him as he responds to Will. “Yeah, sure.”

“Welcome home,” Will says sadly before he starts to walk down the hill as well.

You anxiously watch as he leaves. “Be careful, please!”

“I will!” He reassures you, knowing that you’re still terrified of losing him again.

As you watch Will, Dustin whispers to himself, “Yeah, welcome home.”

His words break your heart even more. Forgetting about your anxiety over Will, you wrap both arms around your brother and hug him. He had been so excited earlier to be home and see all his friends after a month of being away. You understand that the kids are all growing up, but you had always hoped that they’d grow together, not apart.

“You still have all of July and August,” you try to comfort Dustin, desperately hoping that you aren’t lying to both him and yourself. “I’m sure they’ll come around.”

Suddenly the radio attached to Cerebro switches on and Dustin pushes you off of him so that he can get to the radio in time. He stumbles over his feet and trips, and you watch with amusement and curiosity.

He manages to finally untangle himself from the radio and answers. “Suzie, Suzie, is that you?”

You sit down next to Dustin and lean in close to the radio, excited to finally meet your brother’s girlfriend. Instead, you hear what sounds like a foreign language. It’s distinct, slightly muffled, but you know what it is. “Is that…”

“Russian.” Dustin whispers.

Everything changes, then.

–

You force Dustin to go home immediately. He wants to stay, see if he can find any more hidden messages, but you refuse. He’s elated, talking a mile a minute as you bike home, theorizing every possible answer as to why you heard Russian in Hawkins, Indiana.

“Dustin!” You yell at him, terrified that someone could be listening. “Not here, okay?”

He deflates, but pedals home alongside you.

You’re terrified as you bike home, a million thoughts are running through your head. You don’t at all like what any of this could mean; you’ve had enough sketchy government facilities and secret government agencies to last you a fucking lifetime.

When you get home, you order Dustin to go to bed.

“But Y/N, we’ve got to tell someone about this–”

“Tomorrow, okay? Just, please, Dustin.” You’re exhausted and confused and overwhelmed.

Your brother senses that you’re at your limit and reluctantly backs down. “Fine, but can we at least tell Steve tomorrow?”

Hearing Steve’s name puts something at ease within you. Tomorrow, you’ll go to Scoops with Dustin and ask Steve what he thinks about all of this. Comforted by the fact that you now have a plan forming, you begin to calm down. “I promise we’ll tell him tomorrow, okay?”

Dustin nods and heads to his room, wishing you a good night. When you hear his door click shut, you slowly head to your own room. You’re terrified, and there’s only one thing you want to do to lessen the fear that scratches at your throat. After crawling into bed, you call Steve.

He answers immediately. “Y/N? Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine,” you breathe out, his voice like an exhale of a summer’s day. “I… I’m sorry I missed our movie night.”

Steve laughs softly. “Angel, I’m just happy you’re okay. I was getting worried there.”

You close your eyes. “It’s been a weird day.”

“Did something happen?” Steve senses that there’s something you aren’t telling him, which worries him.

“Dustin… He may have found something, but I just–I don’t want to talk about it just yet. I�� I don’t want to jinx it,” you squeeze your eyes tight and will away the fear you feel. “I–I’m just, I’m so exhausted, you know?”

“Y/N, are you in danger–”

“No,” you dispel any fear that Steve may feel. “I promise I’m okay, I just really need to hear your voice right now, okay? Can you just talk to me, please?”

“Of course I can.” Steve agrees without any questions asked, and you love how he trusts you enough to do this.

Exhaling the remaining fear, you allow the warmth from Steve to hold you through the night. “Thank you, honey.”

“Anytime, angel. You know that.”

And you do.

Steve begins telling you a story from today, how he dropped an ice cream cone on a toddler and enraged the mom, and you fall asleep that night to the sound of his voice over the phone.

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)

⌑ taglist: @siriuslysmoking @sheisjoeschateau @thytorturedpoet @innercreationflower @juhdoche @frostandflamesfanfic @goosy-goose @quinnsadilla @munsons-queen @stefansring @rice-elephant @bex22109 @bitchkeery @bex22109 @officerrrfriendly @kazunish @idkitsem @emilieluckwood @ryoujoking @criesinlies @tagakalat @dcnerd98 @sucker-4-angst @kitdjarin1 @onecojg @innazra @areiofhope @spaghetittied @cultish-corner @g8sstuff @videogamesandpoorlifechoices @hsllfirescoops @l0ve-0f-my-life @newyorkangelbaby @aliceespector @chervbs @poppet055 @bookkeeperlove @bellenotthebeast @swiftieblyth @ladyobscurus @moon-flowerss @estaticheart @dreamingofts18 @lanxsee @thecapricunt1616 @aheadfullofsteverogers @marvel-and-music @angie2274 @thescoopstroopers @xuimhao @rh1nestonecowg1rl @shelby-ren @carinacassiopeiae @eddiemunson-86-baby @ribbetzetoad @harryssideboobz

#silly stevie reblogs #mia loves ‘come home’#OH WE ARE SOOOO BACK #LETS GO LETS GO

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weasel-b33 · 18 days

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this is gonna be sickening for me. as a resident s3 steve (and just in general bc this is my fav season) YALL ARE GONNA BE SICK OF ME

especially now that steve IS PINNNINNGGGG for bug. WOAH BOY. THIS IS GONNA BE SOOOOO FUN.

also robin and bugs friendship is gonna be so important to me. and it hasn’t even been written and i know how deeply it’s gonna effect me.

now you're a stranger (and i'm still july)

﹂ season three of "come home"

a lot can change in a year, and when summer comes to hawkins, you think you're finally okay with this idea. you've settled things with jonathan, nancy is now your friend, and steve harrington calls you angel. then dustin intercepts a secret russian code and your grand plans of you and robin teasing steve all summer, and maybe even falling in love, all come crashing down. (meanwhile all steve wants to do is ask you out). (but the russians complicate things). (as usual).

episode one: suzie, do you copy? - you help nancy sneak through jonathans window, the party uses you for your "in" with steve, and you sorta become the reason dustin almost blinds lucas. meanwhile, steve tries, and fails, to make you his girlfriend (this will happen all summer), but have no fear ! dustin intercepts a russian code and makes everything even harder for everyone. what a sweet brother <3

⌑ status: coming soon !

⌑ season three title based on this song x

⌑ blurbs set within "come home" can be found here x

⌑ “come home” season masterlist

*note: this is a part of my stranger things rewrite, “come home”, and other seasons can be found linked above :)

#silly stevie reblogs #mia loves ‘come home’#<- NEW TAG FOR THIS SEASON #i feel like it’s needed seeing how often i reblog.

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weasel-b33 · 25 days

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there is no way anyone could look at this and not think it’s modern art. holy shit i’m so glad i’m sat bc i would’ve collapsed.

🤍 𝙐𝙎𝙀 𝙈𝙀 ･ﾟ; * ✧ ･ﾟ.

eddie munson x reader (fem)

✦ It’s Saturday night, and you can’t seem to finish on your own. Could a visit to your favorite metalhead solve all your problems? ✦ 12.8k ✧ AO3

porn with plot, body worship, fluff ;

18+ 𝗢𝗡𝗟𝗬 !! ⟡ Est’d relationship. Soft dom!Eddie. 𝗗𝗮𝗱𝗱𝘆 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸. Titty sucking; 𝗹𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗳𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗮𝘀𝘆. Breeding kink. Dry humping. Fingering, handjob, anal play (f). 𝗖𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗿, 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗵, butt plug (f). Heavy ball worship. 𝗧𝗵𝗿𝗼𝗮𝘁 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴; breath play. 𝗖𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗲, 𝗽𝗶𝘃. Cock warming. 𝗔𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲. Stoplight system. ੈ♡‧₊˚ ,

The night was a blur of skin and sex. To be honest, you’re not sure how you got here; straddling Eddie on his uncle’s couch, faces pressed together, rutting against his jeans like a bitch in heat.

Keep reading

#eddie (mine)#nsfw reblogs :))#i have never been more disappointed in myself for not having found your work sooner #you are so talented. omg.

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weasel-b33 · 27 days

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Flower delivery

— pairing: james potter x fem!reader

— summary: james runs to your house to give you flowers

— a/n: happy late birthday to my favourite boy!! this is just pure fluff <3

Beads of sweat are dripping down James' neck, his hair glued to his forehead, and he's panting so much you're worried he might pass out. The streetlights shine down on his hair, a halo made of his curls as he finally stops at your door.

You're at a lack of words. James smiles brightly, like his little run was nothing, despite his state. He thinks he can feel his lungs giving out on him, a slightly sharp pain just bellow his ribcage. It doesn't show on his face. "Hi, love."

"Hi... Are you okay?" A smile curls at your lips, and you know you shouldn't laugh, that the situation could be serious, but your gut tells you it isn't.

"Wanted to see my girl." He answers, smile still on his lips. "'S that okay?"

Your smile grows brighter, lovestruck. "Yeah... Did you run here? It's over four blocks, James!"

"Nine, I..." He stops, catches his breath. He's pretty sure his legs are giving him up. "Was at Remus', and stopped at that uhm, that flower shop you like around his corner? Yeah, Lily didn't want to sell me flowers if I was running to yours. Party pooper. I sent a uber for them." You chuckle, fixing his hair.

"For them?" You smile, glimpse of affection in your eyes. "James, you ran here and sent a uber for the flowers?"

"Uhm, yeah..." James smiles. "And I outrun it... So I can see my girl's reaction." He smirks, but something tells you his lean against the doorframe is more for support and less for charming reasons. The pet name that rolls out of his tongue gives your cheeks a red tint.

"Rather have you in one piece, not looking like you ran four marathons." You say. "Can you sit? And please try to not pass out on my porch?" He nods to you, sitting on the stairs in front of your door with his head on his hands. You chuckle, going inside for a moment to get him a glass of water. His eyes light up as he sees it on your hand.

"You're my saviour, love." He thanks you, chugging the glass down in so little time you wonder if he could've set a record. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, leaning to give you a kiss. Just as he does, a car parks on your street, and a man gets out. James beats you to it, opening the back door to reveal a couple bouquets. You smile to the point your cheeks hurt with it as you walk to him, eyes scanning over the different types and colours of flowers. You don't think you have jars enough for it.

"James-" You begin, but he cuts you right off.

"Only the best for my girl, lovely." James says, picking a daisy to put it on your hair, smiling to you. "C'mon, let's get them inside." You nod to him, picking one of the bouquets in your arms, mostly daisies and lilies, but a few carnations and colorful dahlias pop in the middle. Your fingers grasp against a card and you pull it, recognising James' and Lily's handwriting. It reads: "for my favourite girl", and Lily complements it with tiny letters on the end of the page, as well as some drawings of flowers "This idiot ran to see you, take good care of him".

And it goes without saying you will.

#daily james potter story reblogs #oh HE SOOO WOULD #i love him more and more everyday #WDYM HE ISNT REAL LIKE???#WHAT IS THIS THEN??#AND PERHAPS WHAT IS THIS???

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weasel-b33 · 1 month

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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter nine ⭐︎ And I'll show you if you let me, girl

Warnings: 18+, minors don't interact. smut, unprotected sex, mentions of jealousy, mentions of weed and alcohol, a sliver of angst. this is written from Steve’s pov only!

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: While Steve yearns for more with you, you seem to feel differently...

Word count: 10k+

Author's note: @hellfire--cult we're getting closer to all the good stufffff, thanks for putting this idea in my head and helping me with this hehe

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter

♡

The warmth of the sun is a welcoming feeling on Steve’s face as he wakes from his slumber. The sheets that are covering him, feeling soft on his bare body. The pillow beneath his head holds a scent that makes it smell intoxicating. He feels as though he had been sleeping on a cloud, the bed feeling more comfortable than his own.

He slowly opens his eyes, only to shut them again when the brightness shines into them. A groan falls from his lips as he throws his hand in front of his face.

The smell of clean sheets, vanilla and something flowery fills his senses, making something in his chest flutter.

The weight of something holding down his right arm, wakes him a little more and he opens his eyes again, a little more careful this time as he holds his hand up to protect his eyes from the sun.

Pictures of last night start flashing in his mind when his eyes find you, cheek squished against the pillow, hair in front of your face, eyes closed and a relaxed look in your features as you’re still sleeping peacefully.

He looks away from you when he notices your hand around his arm, fingers wrapped around it as you hold on tightly, even in your sleep. His lip twitches as he stares at it, at your soft hand, at the size of it and how much smaller it is compared to his.

He watches you for a moment, eyes tracing the spots that aren’t hidden by the covers. His fingers itch as he stares at your soft skin. He notices the scar on your shoulder, the one that a bat left, the one that you ripped off of him, saving him from a wound it would have left on his abdomen if you hadn’t saved him – you took the scar that was meant for him.

Your lashes flutter a little, a sigh falls from your lips before you snuggle deeper into the pillows, still sound asleep. He can’t help but hold his hand out to move some of the hair out of your face, his fingertips grazing your nose ever so slightly, you don’t even budge. He wonders if you are always such a deep sleeper or if you’re just worn out from the night before.

A smirk tugs at his lips as his thoughts reminded him of the desperation in your eyes, the needy moans that fell from your lips when he devoured you, when he fucked you, when he touched you in a way he never thought he would.

He can’t help but react to those memories, feeling something inside of him burning with need and a deep longing to repeat the previous night with you.

Who would have thought that Steve Harrington would ever end up in your bed?

What would his 17 year old self think of him now?

While his teen self was very well aware of your beauty, he never was good at accepting his attraction towards you, especially when you were so mean to him – now it only turns him on.

Steve turns on his side, about to sink deeper into your comfortable, warm bed when his eyes fall on the alarm clock on your nightstand. It’s almost 10am. Which isn’t bad… if he didn’t have to be at work an hour ago already.

He shoots up with wide eyes, cursing. He turns back to you in panic, placing his hand on yours, “Blondie,” he whispers, trying to shake you awake, “hey… psst!”

All that you do is turn around in your sleep, holding onto the sheets as you stay deeply asleep.

He rolls his eyes, sighing as he opens his mouth again, he looks down and suddenly, every word gets stuck in his throat when he eyes the light pink sheets and the little bows on them.

He furrows his brows and lifts his head, looking around the room that he realizes he had never been in before until last night, but he was too busy with you to focus on his surroundings or the girly room.

He doesn’t know what he imagined your room to be like, but he certainly never imagined this. Light colors and lots and lots of girly decorations, aside from the band posters and the horror movie collection by the TV stand in the corner.

The shelf across the room is littered with books and plants, tiny bottles of nail polish and perfumes. There’s pillows and a blanket on your window nook, along with a plushie that makes him smirk, the little bunny being something new he can tease you about.

He scratches the back of his neck as he looks to his left, the nightstand on his side is littered with fashion magazines, candles and a few lip balms that are lying in a tiny bowl – strawberry and cherry flavored ones.

The poster behind your closet door catches his eye next, he can’t help but snort, “Jon Bon Jovi,” he murmurs as he stares at the long haired singer wearing a leather vest.

Steve looks nothing like him.

He doesn’t have the same hair nor the style.

Is that your type of man?

Long hair and leather vests? – Eddie surely isn’t your type, and Billy was only a friend, and yet… there was something more between you and him.

His eyes fall back on the TV stand and the tapes, reminding him that he should be worrying about other things, right now.

He throws the blanket off himself, his feet hit the floor and he rushes towards the clothes he discarded last night. He hastily puts his boxers and his jeans on, clinking with the belt as he struggles to fasten it in a rush. He throws on his shirt before he bends down to put his Nike’s on, not even trying to be quiet as he jumps around in a hurry, hoping that you will wake up before he leaves, not wanting to just leave without saying goodbye.

He rushes into your bathroom, not even bothering to look at his reflection. He quickly washes his face before he looks around in search for mouthwash, you surely won’t mind. His brows rise up when he finds the bottle behind all the lotions.

He walks back into your room after freshening up, halting in front of your bed. He feels surprised that you still haven’t woken from all the noises he made.

You are lying on your stomach now, your bare back exposed to him as the sheets are low on your hips.

He clenches his jaw, shutting his eyes for a moment, hating that he has to leave when all he wants to do is to get back under the sheets with you.

What will you think when you wake up to an empty bed?

Will you get angry with him for just rushing out that door without saying goodbye?

Are you even gonna care?

You slapped his hand away when he tried to touch you last night, before you fell asleep. You probably won’t care about him leaving.

He can’t wake you, he doesn’t want to disrupt your sleep and he can’t wait any longer, knowing that he will get in trouble with Keith if he shows up late, especially on a Sunday.

And it’s not only Keith he has to worry about, it’s also Robin, who will throw one question after the other at him.

He has no choice but to go, he steps out into the hallway and turns back to take another look at you, hesitating as he does so.

He will explain and apologize later, that is if you even care.

With a sigh, he tears his eyes away from you and he leaves, rushing out of the house and into his car.

Robin is already behind the counter when he steps inside Family Video, her nose in a magazine as she taps her nails against the wood, an impatient, annoyed look in her features when she reveals her face to him after dropping the magazine on the counter. She pushes the sleeve of her flannel up, taking a look at the watch around her wrist.

Steve rolls his eyes at her, throwing on the vest as he rushes in.

“You’re almost an hour late, dude.”

“I know, I know,” Steve sighs, moving past her and into the backroom to clock in before he comes back to her.

She is still standing in the same spot, arms crossed over her chest as she eyes him up and down, snorting at the mess on his head. It is a rare sight to see, he knows that.

He rolls his eyes again, holding a finger up at her as he shakes his head, “don’t say anything.”

He tried to tame the mess on his head when he was in his car, but the only thing that will fix the tousled hair is a shower.

“I see the date with Heidi was worth it,” she teases him, a smirk tugging at her lips the longer she stares at the look in his eyes, they are practically glowing.

Steve looks into a box that has been placed on the counter, he opens it to find new tapes inside, he eyes the horror movies.

“Did you have fun?”

Yeah, just not with Heidi.

He never had that much fun with her, he never had that much fun with anyone.

“Mhmm.”

Robin squints her eyes at him, eying the way his cheeks flush a little, the way the blush deepens as she steps closer and stares at him.

Steve never blushed because of Heidi, he also never came late to work after a night with her.

“Did you stay the night?” She asks, knowing that he never stayed with any of his girls before.

He purses his lips, and looks away from the tapes and back at her, he sees the skeptical look on her face and it makes him nervous. She knows everything about him, she knows he never stays.

He runs his fingers through his hair, leaning against the counter as he tries to appear calm.

“Yeah, I was really tired after we uh… you know,” he explains, shrugging a little.

“Hmm,” she nods, furrowing her brows.

He takes a step back, taking one of the tapes out of the box, “did you uh… did you guys have a fun time, last night?”

“Yeah,” she nods as she looks down at her rings, twisting them, “Eddie was pretty annoyed with you though.”

“Was he?” Steve frowns.

“Yeah, said he couldn’t believe that you’d ditch your friends to get your dick wet.”

He snorts, “like he wouldn’t do that.”

“He wouldn’t,” she shrugs, “oh and uh, your Blondie seemed pretty upset too, she left early.”

Steve raises his brows, “oh?”

Steve had wondered how you reacted to his date with Heidi but given your attitude towards him when he came over tells him that you must have been really upset about it – but he didn’t know that, last night. He just thought that you were having a bad day, he didn’t really connect the dots until now.

Were you jealous?

Were you jealous that some other girl was getting the attention that he was giving you in the past few weeks?

“Yeah, I don’t think it had anything to do with you though.”

It had everything to do with him, he knows it, he can feel it. He felt it last night, how you melted into him, how your anger began to dissolve the moment he told you that it was only you in his mind.

But you don’t like him, he’s sure of it. You don’t like him. You just want to keep this game up, and have him all to yourself.

“I’m sorry for bailing on you,” he sighs, trying to steer the topic away from you before he accidentally spills everything to her.

“Apologize to Eddie or Blondie – actually maybe not to her, you’d probably just humiliate yourself in front of her the way you always do.”

He snorts, nodding at her, “right.”

“You could invite us all for pizza though, make it up to us, dude.”

At the mention of food, Steve’s stomach growls a little. He hasn’t eaten since his afternoon snack yesterday. He was supposed to eat dinner at Enzo’s, but he didn’t even get past the drinks with Heidi.

“I could eat some pizza,” he murmurs, “I’ll call Eddie on my lunch break. You’re free tonight, right?”

Robin brushes past him and walks around the counter, taking the box that he just opened, “yeah but Eddie isn’t, he’s got a date tonight,” she wiggles her brows, a smile tugging at her lips, “a real date, you know? Not a sex date.”

Steve places his hand on his hip, sighing as he rolls his eyes at his best friend.

“I go on real dates!”

Robin’s blue eyes flicker with amusement, “yeah right, Dingus,” she snorts.

She steps away with the box in her hands, “I’m stacking these up, you can just… chill here and wait for another potential date to walk through the door. Oh and by the way, Nancy and Jonathan are busy tonight as well, but you can call up Argyle, I’ll call Vickie and your arch nemesis.”

If only Robin knew that he was in his ‘arch nemesis’s’ bed last night, tangled in the sheets after your bare skin touched his and your lips met more times than he can now count, your fingers dug into his back, scratching the skin and blessing him with a pleasant kind of pain, he feels the marks that you have left on him, burning beneath his shirt and he can’t help but crave more of it, more of you.

As everything begins to really sink in, he can’t even fight the smile off his face any longer.

Weeks of frustration, of sexual tension and lust have brought him to a moment you both have been craving for a while now and normally the high should now be over, last night should have been enough but… it could never be enough, this has only just begun.

And he really hopes that you feel the same.

All day, he walks around with nothing but happiness in his features, a smile he can’t seem to hide, not even when Robin confronts him about it, teasing him about something she knows nothing about.

He almost feels bad for lying to her but he can’t help but want to enjoy this moment and keep it all to himself. It’s only his.

His excitement only grows when Robin tells him that you will come over later.

After work, Steve drops by the store to get some snacks and drinks before he makes his way home. He throws the keys on the counter and walks into the kitchen, putting the grocery bag on the table, he takes out the beers and soda’s and places them into the fridge before he makes his way upstairs and into the bathroom, finally taking his long awaited shower.

He puts on a pair of gray sweatpants and a black shirt, taking his time styling his hair while his mind is still all over the place. He puts on his favorite cologne, hoping that it will drive you crazy just the way your perfume drives him crazy.

It’s almost 7pm by the time Steve makes his way back downstairs, knowing that everyone will arrive soon, he picks up the phone to order the pizzas.

Excitement flutters in his stomach and he can’t even find it in himself to sit still.

He opens a window in the living room to let some fresh air in, he turns on the music and goes back into the kitchen to fill up bowls with chips and other snacks that he bought, he carries them over into the living room, when the doorbell rings two times and then another a few seconds later. Steve doesn’t even bother to go and open the door, knowing that it’s Robin.

“Hey Dingus!” She shouts through the house the moment she opens the door.

“Hi Steve!” Vickie greets him more quietly and a little more kindly.

He turns around the moment the two girls step inside the room, with more snacks and beer in their hands.

“Hey guys,” he smiles.

Robin throws the bags of candy on the coffee table before she reaches for the beers in Vickie’s hands, “I’m gonna put these into the fridge for now. Did you order the pizza already?”

“Yes I did, pepperoni for you,” he points at Vickie who gives him a thumbs up as she sits down on the couch, “and extra cheese for you, Robs.”

Robin tilts her head, a grin appearing on her face as she turns to her best friend, “aw, you memorized our orders, Steve.”

He rolls his eyes at her teasing.

“Aren’t you the cutest?” She chuckles, winking at him before she walks out of the room.

He shakes his head, shooting a playful glare at Vickie when she continues to laugh at Robin's teasing.

The doorbell rings again and Steve almost sprints towards the door, knowing that this must be you now.

Vickie’s face flashes with amusement when he runs his fingers through his hair a few times before he leaves the living room. He takes a few deep breaths as he inches closer to the front door. He wraps his hand around the handle and opens the door, biting back the smirk that already threatens to break free.

“Hey man!” Argyle grins at him as he stands next to you, “look who I found on the side of the road,” he jokes, snorting as he looks down at you.

Steve licks his lips as his eyes find yours, his cheeks begin to hurt when he struggles to hide the smirk.

“Hey guys.”

“You said that like I’m some stray cat,” you snort as you look away from Steve, looking up at Argyle instead, giving Steve the perfect opportunity to take you in.

A denim jacket is thrown over your shoulders, a simple white shirt underneath it, paired with a short pink skirt, the color almost matching the one on your glossy lips – the ones he had been thinking about all day. And then he looks at your neck, feeling disappointed that there is only a faint outline of the hickey he left the night before. You covered it with makeup, lots of it.

“You are not a stray, but you are a cat, girl,” Argyle says to you as he steps inside, patting Steve on the shoulder, “always got her claws out, right man?”

Steve chuckles in amusement, nodding in agreement.

Argyle walks away from the two of you, greeting Robin and Vickie joyfully as he walks into the living room.

Steve places his forearm on the door, looking you up and down with a smirk on his face. He feels warmth in his stomach, one that makes him crave you more and more.

“Hey Blondie,” he murmurs.

You eye him up and down just the way he did to you, and it does everything to set his insides on fire, even more.

You look up at him through your lashes as a suggestive look flashes in your eyes before you innocently tear your gaze away, your shoulder brushing his when you finally walk through the door.

The smell of your perfume invading his space so pleasantly.

“Hey Lego Head.”

Lego Head.

It almost sounds funny to hear you call him that after the night you spent with each other.

He closes the door without tearing his eyes away from you and reaches for your hand before you can walk away from him.

He doesn’t like the way you look down at his hand, the way your brows pull together, the way confusion flashes in your eyes before you look up at him with a look that gives him absolutely nothing.

Suddenly, as though something had washed over your face, taking every bit of the emotions that were just behind your eyes, you look at him like you always did – before last night, before you both began playing your little game, before all the teasing.

“Yes?”

Steve feels a little taken aback by the sound in your voice, by the sudden change but he tries to keep his cool.

“Did you sleep well?” He smirks.

He doesn’t expect you to roll your eyes at him, removing your hand from his and walking away without a word, leaving him standing in the hallway, feeling more confused than ever, making his chest sting with rejection.

The look you gave him before you stepped inside, certainly didn’t match whatever just happened.

He shakes his head, sighing.

Is that another part of the game?

Or are you just trying to act like normal so no one will notice anything?

It turns out that there is something else.

After he follows you into the living room, he quickly realizes that you aren’t playing any games, that you aren’t acting ‘normal’ either.

Your kindness is there, just not for him, which normally wouldn’t hurt as much if your ‘friendship’ hadn’t evolved into something better in the past few weeks.

You talk to Argyle, Robin and Vickie, and you talk to him when you have to, but all that you give to him are glances filled with nothing but frustration and forced smiles, making his skin crawl with annoyance.

He tries to act normal, he tries to not give anything away but it’s really hard when his eyes keep moving back to yours every few seconds or so, growing more and more irritated with you and your little ignorant act.

He tries to approach you, even as more time passes, he keeps trying to throw jabs at you, talk to you, make jokes but you only give him the smallest reactions while your friends get the better end of the stick.

You laugh at Argyle’s jokes, you laugh at Robin when a pepperoni slides off her pizza and falls into her lap, you act normal with your friends but not with him – in fact, you act like nothing happened and it makes him angry.

There goes his hope for more.

The fire that you lit inside of him, quickly dissolves, making it all feel unpleasant now and he suddenly can’t wait for this night to be over.

How can you sit there and act like you didn’t spend a passionate night with him?

Like you didn’t moan his name and begged for more, like you didn’t kiss him as though it was your new form of breathing, like you hadn’t left behind marks on his skin and on the inside of his chest.

He stares at you, at the way you sit on your knees, skirt riding up as you lean closer to the coffee table to reach for your drink, you flip your hair over your shoulder and take a sip, moving to face him when you notice his staring.

Steve doesn’t even bother to hide that he was looking at you.

“How was your date last night, man?” Argyle asks as he rolls a joint for Vickie. “What was the chick’s name, Helga?”

Robin bursts into laughter, being the last one to still munch on the pizza, “Helga!”

Vickie can’t help but also giggle, shaking her head.

“Her name’s Heidi,” Steve corrects Argyle, still keeping an eye on you, and boy is he happy that he didn’t look away, he wouldn’t have noticed the quick eye roll at the mention of Heidi, the girl seemingly causing you more annoyance than the smirk that starts pulling at his lips again.

“Heidi, Helga, just one and the same,” Argyle waves his head, “both weirdass names.”

“Yeah, I agree,” you mumble with a sour look on your face.

Oh.

Is that jealousy Steve sees?

“So was it like a date date, or a you know a date to get all wet and dirty afterwards.”

Robin scrunches her face up in disgust, groaning, “don’t make me lose my appetite.”

“Definitely the second.”

Steve can see the way you clench your jaw, the way you poke your tongue into your cheek as you look down at your drink.

“I’m still confused,” Robin mumbles.

“What about?” Steve asks, not tearing his eyes away from you.

“I thought Heidi didn’t know how to fuck?”

At that, your eyes widen a little.

“...Seems she learned.”

“Maybe you’re the one who doesn’t know how to fuck.” You murmur, narrowing your eyes at him.

Steve raises his eyebrows in surprise, a laugh tumbling from his lips before he can even stop it.

You are looking at him so seriously and assured that it makes him want to scoff.

Are you going to pretend that he didn’t make you cum twice last night? That you didn’t cry from pleasure? That you didn’t whine and beg?

He almost wants to expose this little secret to your friends but he holds back, despite the irritation that continues to grow inside of him.

Argyle laughs at your comment.

“Poor Heidi.”

To the others it sounds like you’re actually pitying her but he can hear the mocking tone in your voice.

You’re giving him that glare, the one that hides the challenging spark behind it.

Oh, how he wants to bend you over that table and remind you of how pathetic and cockdrunk you looked beneath him the night before.

“Oh, trust me, honey. She had a really good time last night.”

He sees the way your eye twitches, the way your lips turn downwards for a split second before you mask the anger with something else. You tilt your head to the side, “did she?” You ask, as though you didn’t pass out after he made you come undone.

He always knew that you were a brat, he just didn’t think that you were that much of a brat.

“Can we please change the topic or I’m gonna get sick!” Robin throws her arms up, “I really couldn’t care less about Steve’s boring straight sex life!”

“Would you rather talk about this?” Argyle holds the joint up, grinning at her, “the weed was specially delivered from California.”

Robin snorts, “yeah, by you.”

“Yeah, told you, specially delivered.”

“Well, light it up, I’m ready to try the special weed,” Vickie says, waiting impatiently.

None of your friends notice the way you and Steve are still holding eye contact, the way you are glaring at one another, practically challenging each other to a stare down, yet like you are ready to tear each other’s clothes off.

You are the first to break, you look away and push yourself up from the floor, smoothing down your skirt before you make your way out of the room, you pass by him, not sparing him a single glance.

Steve’s eyes follow you curiously, watching you walk away and down the hallway, into the bathroom.

Argyle is making the girls laugh, distracting them well enough for Steve to use the opportunity to follow you, just moments later. He takes one more look at his friends before he steps out of the living room and into the hallway. The noises of laughter and music now slowly get lost in the distance as he inches closer to the bathroom.

He leans against the wall, opposite of the door that he heard shutting after you walked in. He crosses his arms over his chest, feeling determined to find out what your problem is.

He has his suspicions, but he isn’t very sure about them.

Maybe this is just the way that you are, you get what you want, you use it once and then you move on, not bothering to stick with it.

Maybe you get bored.

Maybe you aren’t as deeply into this as he is.

Or maybe he made a mistake this morning, after all.

The door opens and you step out of the bathroom, only to halt in your tracks when you notice him, you stare at him for a moment before you roll your eyes at him again.

Steve’s arms drop to his sides, he opens his mouth to say something to you, when you go to walk away. But he moves forward, placing himself in front of you, he blocks your way and places his hand on your arm.

“Wait, please.”

The look you give him, should send shivers down his spine, but instead it makes him want you just more because despite all of this, he can only think about what happened the night before, how pretty you looked under him, how you moaned for him and begged for more, how you held on to him this morning. He knows you still want him – it’s not his cockiness that is telling him that, it’s the look in your eyes, the one behind all the anger that he’s getting more and more suspicious about.

“What?” You mumble.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you shrug, pursing your lips.

His desperation starts growing yet again, the want inside of him begging him to just push you up against this wall and kiss you again just the way he did before the sun rose.

The little crease between your eyebrows is so prominent right now, showing off your irritation.

“Come on, don’t do this again, Blondie,” he sighs, his hand leaves your arm and he can’t believe that he’s already missing the feeling of his skin on yours. “Just tell me what's wrong.”

You stare up at him, your eyes moving from his lips to his nose and then back to his eyes. You seem to hesitate, you seem to think.

But then, you do what you always do.

“As if you don’t fucking know.”

You run away.

You leave him hanging.

And maybe if you hadn’t said these words to him, he would’ve let it go, he would’ve felt defeated, knowing that he should be moving on but this, the resentful look you just gave him, one that shows just how upset you are only begins to confirm all his suspicions.

He will not let this go, he will not let you go, not so easily, at least. Not even when you keep acting that way towards him when he returns to the living room.

You keep giving him dirty looks whenever you catch him staring, you keep scoffing and rolling your eyes at him, not knowing that it only spurs him on – just the way it did when you were both fifteen, stuck in fourth period together.

He keeps staring, and you keep getting more frustrated – it’s so visible in your features, you can’t even hide it.

It seems that the only thing you’re good at hiding is pain and sadness, these are the only things he could never notice on you, not until you decided to show him a glimpse of it, at least.

Steve can’t help but count down the minutes until Argyle, Robin and Vickie decide to leave, so he can finally have a moment with you. And the moment he gets what he wants, he almost cheers.

“I think I might pass out if I don’t leave in the next five minutes,” Argyle mumbles as he sits up.

“Yeah,” Robin giggles, “me too, and you do not wanna sleep on this couch, trust me, man.”

Argyle furrows his brows, staring down at Steve’s couch, “what’s wrong with it? It’s comfy.”

“I thought so too until I woke up with a stiff neck that one time I passed out during movie night.”

Steve snorts, “told you, you could’ve slept in the guest room.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Robin rolls her eyes, getting up from the couch.

“Do you want me to drop you ladies off?” Argyle asks, pointing between Vickie and Robin, “don’t wanna let any of you drive home high.”

“Yeah, that would be nice!” Vickie slurs a little, giggling when Robin takes her hand and pulls her up.

Steve is looking at you, watching the way you reach for your jacket as you stand up as well.

Do you really think that he will let you leave after the way you behaved?

After you didn’t even talk about what happened?

“Blondie,” he says sternly. “Don’t you wanna help me clean this mess up?” He points to the empty bowls and plates.

You squint your eyes at him, crossing your arms over your chest, “why, can’t handle it yourself?”

Robin chuckles as she looks between you both.

“I picked her up, dude. I’m not gonna let her walk home alone at night, especially in freaking Hawkins!” Argyle mumbles.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll drive her home,” Steve shrugs, “I don’t mind.”

He feels satisfied when you glare at him, huffing in anger.

Robin shakes her head knowing that you and Steve take this thing between you both very seriously, the rude teasing, the bickering, the little fights – she doesn’t know just how far you both take these things now.

“I helped you last time, it’s only fair if you help me now, right?” He smirks at you, satisfied with the angry look in your eyes.

“Mhmm.”

“Alright then,” Argyle mumbles, passing by you, he ruffles your hair, “I’ll see you around, grumpy.”

“Bye,” Robin teases you with a sing-song voice, wiggling her brows at you, “have fun playing maid with Dingus.”

“Thanks, Robin,” you say sarcastically.

Vickie gives you a softer smile and a hug before the three leave the room and walk out of the house, leaving Steve alone with you – something that he had been waiting for, all night.

He wants to confront you the moment the front door shuts, but he decides to wait, wanting to find out what you will do now that everyone is gone and it’s only the two of you again.

He watches you closely, his eyes follow every twitch in your features, every flicker in your eyes as different emotions take over them. Your lips part, and he thinks you’re going to say something finally, but instead, you only sigh before you look away from him and get up. You start to gather the plates.

With a sigh, Steve gets up and makes his way over to you, gently grabbing your wrist.

“Did you really think I made you stay to wash the dishes, Blondie?”

You furrow your brows, putting the plates back down, you lift your head to look at him.

“Oh, did you expect something else, Harrington?”

“Yeah,” he nods, still holding your wrist, “you telling me why you’re acting like nothing fucking happened yesterday.”

The irritation in your eyes isn’t hard to miss, neither is the anger in them.

“Nothing. Happened.”

He scoffs at you, shaking his head in disbelief.

Never has he ever felt so agitated by someone else. Never has he ever felt this desperate.

“Right! Yeah, you screaming my name didn’t happen, you cumming twice with me didn’t happen, us almost breaking the bed didn’t happen. Sure.”

You grow flustered at the reminders and your lips part as you seemingly try to find your words.

And Steve waits, he waits for you to say something, to explain why you had been acting that way towards him, but the longer you look at him, the more you start to pull away and with one swift movement, you pull your wrist out of his hold, you reach for the jacket that you had dropped again and you leave the room with a scoff.

Steve rolls his eyes at you, swallowing down the anger as he follows you out into the hallway, rushing after you.

“I’m not up for this shit, Lego head,” you mumble as you stomp towards the front door, grabbing the handle and ripping the door open, “your message was clear as day this morning.”

The moment those words leave your lips, you confirm every one of his suspicions. That is why you had been so angry, that is why you had been acting like a brat the whole damn night.

You’re one step out of his house when he catches up to you, he reaches out for your hand, grabbing it tightly as he pulls you back into his house and turns you back around. He shuts the door and locks it before he lifts his hand to cup the back of your head so he won’t hurt you when he slams you against it.

Your eyes widen in surprise as your lips part. Before you can throw any more words at him, he steps closer to you, using his other hand to cage you against the door.

The feeling of your body now back against his, makes his skin crawl in anticipation, his body aching in need.

“Oh, waking up without me struck a nerve huh?”

You knit your brows together as you huff angrily, lips puckering as you’re about to throw an insult at him… probably.

But all he can think about is kissing you, and showing you just how much he wants you again.

“Made it clear it was a one time thing so I don’t know what–”

He brings his hand forward, letting go of your head so he can cup your cheek, before you can even finish your sentence or react to his touch, he leans forward and smashes his lips against yours, finally kissing you with his eyes closed and his body now pressed against yours.

You gasp, almost squealing against his lips, you drop your jacket to the ground, growing tense for a whole two seconds before you melt into his touch and kiss him back.

Steve’s thumb grazes your jawline as he tilts your head up and he presses further into you, moving his lips a little faster against yours.

Unlike your first kiss, last night, this one is a little slower yet just as deep, if not even stronger. He keeps holding your cheek, liking the feeling of your soft skin beneath his palm.

He lifts his left hand, removing it from the door behind you and placing it on your other cheek, his fingers getting lost in your hair as he continues to kiss you, only pulling away to catch his breath.

His eyes open for a moment to see you chasing after his lips. He almost wants to smile smugly but he doesn’t want to ruin this by teasing you, instead, he goes straight back in, kissing you again rougher and harder this time.

His knees nearly buckle when you moan softly and bring your hands up to his biceps, while his right hand slowly travels down your body, passing your chest and your stomach – he wonders if yours flutters just like his does.

He nudges his nose against yours, parting your lips with his tongue and you invite him in so eagerly, instantly moving your tongue against his. Your hand slowly moves to his neck, nails grazing his skin, making him moan into the kiss.

Steve feels something he had never felt during kisses with any other girls, but he can’t pinpoint what it is. Surely it must be lust and passion, nothing more, nothing less. He doesn’t like you, he definitely doesn’t, but you’re not just a random girl. It’s you, Blondie. The girl he always thought he absolutely despised, and that despise turned into desire. But was the desire never really there? Was he sure of that?

Just like now, he wants more, he wants you, all of you.

But he doesn’t know how far you are willing to take things today.

He moves his hand down to your bare thigh, not moving it under your skin just yet. He taps it twice, waiting for the green light, waiting for you to make the move.

You don’t stop kissing him, even as you part your legs for him, you keep going, you keep pulling him closer and closer, until he is flush against you.

He slips his hand under your skirt, his fingers trace your inner thighs first, making you whine impatiently, practically begging him to touch you as you buck your hips up against him. He bites your lip gently as he presses his fingers against your pussy, moaning when he feels just how soaked your panties are already. He pushes them aside and slips his fingers through your wet folds, bringing his digits up to your clit.

His dick twitches at the sound of your moan, and he is beginning to get impatient.

He could just slip inside of you with ease, you’re wet enough to take him but he still wants to stretch you open with his fingers first.

You break the kiss the moment he pushes two of his fingers in, a moan falling as you stop moving your lips against his. You part your legs further for him as you throw your head back against the door, closing your eyes and knitting your brows together.

Steve can’t help but stare at your face, watching the way you get lost in the feeling of pleasure as he begins to fuck you with his fingers, he doesn’t even tease you the way he wanted to all day, he needs to make you feel good, to show you how much he wanted this.

His mouth waters at the sound of the squelching noises his fingers cause as he drags them in and out of you, his dick straining against his pants, his stomach fluttering.

He leans closer to you, unable to hold himself back from kissing your puffy lips, pecking them a few times as he swallows your moans.

“S-Steve,” you whimper his name again, blessing him with a sound he’s been dreaming about all day.

He kisses you again, though while his lips move smoothly against yours, you keep breaking the kiss to murmur his name over and over again.

You clench around his fingers, and when he presses his thumb against your clit, you whimper loudly, tightening even more around his fingers. You’re close, he can feel it, but he can’t wait any longer. He pulls them out of you again, almost chuckling at the needy whine you let out but he keeps kissing you.

“Hold on,” he murmurs, taking his pants and boxers off just enough to free himself, he wraps his hand around his length, pumping a few times as he smashes his lips against yours. Steve moans in contentment when you wrap your arms around his neck, squeezing him as you pull him closer, clearly feeling just as impatient as he does.

“Like hell that was a one time thing,” he mumbles against your lips as he grabs your waist with both hands and picks you up without a struggle.

You gasp in surprise, eyes widening for a moment. You move your hands to his shoulder and hold onto him tightly as you wrap your legs around his waist.

Steve presses you against the door as he moves his arm down, hooking it underneath the back of your knee while his other hand travels back to your core. He looks into your eyes as he pushes your panties further to the side.

“You want me, right?” He asks as though the desperation in your eyes wouldn’t be good enough of an answer.

“Yes.” You nearly whimper in need.

He lines himself up with your entrance, “good, because I want you too, Blondie,” he whispers before he slams his lips back against yours and thrusts inside of you, causing you both to moan in pleasure.

He splits you open, completely burying himself inside of your tightness, your warm wet walls gripping him tightly and he stills, giving you a moment to adjust to his size.

He scrunches his brows together as his dick aches for more.

This feels so good, this feels even better than last night because now, he can feel you, nothing separates him from the feeling of your pussy around him.

You are breathing heavily against him, clenching around him already and he can’t help but growl at that, you’re tight enough as it is, and you’re making this even harder for him.

“P-Please,” you break the kiss to beg, trying to pull him even closer even though his chest is completely pressed against yours already.

And the moment you start begging with your eyes, he can’t hold back and stay still any longer.

He grabs your hip and he places his forehead against yours, keeping his lips on yours as he starts fucking you. Last night he fucked you roughly, but tonight… he fucks you like an animal. His fingers dig into your side, holding onto you tightly as he starts pounding you against the door, loud moans start falling from his lips, joined by your whimpers, they echo through the hallway.

He can see the glassiness in your eyes before you shut them tightly, gasping as he picks up the pace further, and he watches you, he watches closely as you get so deeply lost in the pleasure while your chest moves up and down rapidly, your lips quiver as the prettiest sounds keep falling from them.

He wants to close his eyes and enjoy this moment of bliss but he can’t look away from you, he can’t believe that he’s getting you like this for a second time, he can’t believe that you’re gasping and whimpering for him, because of him. That someone like you turns into a drooling, needy mess for him and his cock.

You tilt your head to the side exposing your neck to him.

He instantly leans in, latching his lips onto your skin, tearing another gasp out of you.

“Steve!”

He feels your hands on the back of his neck now, fingers getting lost in his hair, you tug at his strands, only a little but enough to make his hips falter for a second, enough to tear a whimper out of him.

“Don’t stop, Stevie,” you whisper as you hold onto him tightly, your feet digging into his ass as he continues to ram in and out of you, roughly.

He bites down harder on your neck, sucking on your delicate skin as his dick throbs inside of you.

“Been thinking about you all day,” he confesses as he continues to cover your neck in marks, leaving reminders of himself on your body.

Your walls flutter around his dick and it only spurs him on even more.

He pulls back so he can see you again, he grabs your cheeks with one hand, turning you to face him again. You are biting your lower lip and you open your eyes to meet his, your pupils are blown, the black in them almost taking over completely, you are looking at him with such pleading and sinful eyes.

He moves his thumb towards your mouth, pulling your bottom lip out of the grasp your teeth just had on it and he leans in to press his lips back to yours, “you’re so tight and wet around me,” he murmurs against them, “can’t believe I get to see you like this.”

He can feel that you’re growing weaker, that you can barely keep your legs wrapped around him now, you’re completely wrecked already but Steve isn’t done yet, despite feeling so close to his own high, he can’t help but want to savor this moment for as long as he can.

When he kisses you again, he swallows every one of your moans and whimpers when he changes his pace from fast and rough to slow but harsh and deep, deep enough for you to feel him in your stomach, he’s sure of it, and by the way you clench around him so tightly that you nearly make him cum sooner than he’d like to, you confirm it.

You’re wearing too much clothing for his liking but he still grabs at anything he can reach, your boobs, your neck, your arms and your legs before his hand gropes your ass and he digs his fingers into it so tightly, he’s sure to leave a mark.

Your tongues meet in a feverish kiss, your noses bump into each other, you both grow breathless and yet you can’t stop tasting each other.

Steve’s nerves are on fire, and he’s beginning to lose composure as his hips begin to stutter, he can only hold back for so long now. He quickly moves your skirt up further and presses his fingers against your clit, rubbing it in fast circles.

The squeal you bless him with sending flutters through his chest and stomach, pride swelling inside of him when you come undone for him again. Your body grows tense for a moment, your walls and contract around him before you fall limply against him, breaking the kiss to catch your breath, you still hold onto him, burying his face in the crook of his neck.

His moans now grow louder, even more so when your lips graze his ear and you whisper “cum for me, Steve.”

All it takes is another powerful thrust before he spills inside of you, the whine that falls from his lips nearly startles himself.

He doesn’t stop moving right away, he wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly as he keeps rolling his hips slowly, coming down from the high. He can feel how much you’re shaking, how your legs are trembling now.

And you both keep clinging to each other, like you want to savor every last second of this, even when it’s now over. He doesn’t want this to end, and neither do you.

And yet, it has to.

He pulls out of you, cursing under his breath while you whine at the loss of him. He places you back on your feet but keeps his hands on your waist in case your knees buckle. You let go of his neck but bring your hand down to his bicep, wrapping your fingers around it to steady yourself.

You look up at him through your lashes and his own knees nearly buckle.

You’re quiet, too quiet for his liking, reminding him of what had gotten you upset in the first place, it fills him with guilt, knowing this could have been prevented.

He lifts his hand up towards your face, cupping your cheek and tilting your head up again, he leans down, surprising you with a soft kiss.

“I overslept. I tried waking you up but you were… sleeping like a log. I even moved around and made a lot of noise on purpose, hoping that you’d wake up.”

You grow flustered beneath his eyes, eyes growing wide as realization flashes in them.

“I– you could have left a note–”

“I should have, but I’m an idiot who was an hour late to work already and rushed out.” He explains as his fingers keep tracing your skin.

Your shoulders slump as you sigh, “o-oh…”

He brushes your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear – unaware of the way it makes you feel, of what it causes inside of you, of the kind of hope it could fill you with.

You keep staring at him, eyes flickering back and forth between his eyes and lips, though the softness begins to disappear when reality seems to pull you back.

“Steve?”

The shakiness and the panic in your face nearly makes his heart stop.

“Yes?” He asks softly, as he stops touching you.

“Y-You came inside of me…” You mumble, dropping your arms to your sides.

Yeah, he did, and it felt unlike anything he felt before.

“Yeah, don’t worry, I’m clean,” he shrugs, not understanding the fear behind your eyes. “I gotta say, I never went in raw before though,” he chuckles as he rubs the back of his neck.

You stare at him with something he can’t read, and then your wide eyes fill with fury and a hint of fear as a yell escapes your lips.

“I’m not on the pill, Steve!” You frown at him, pushing him away from you so you can brush past him.

Steve’s eyes widen, his blood runs cold at your words. He quickly pulls his pants up, turning around to see you rounding the corner.

“Shit!” He curses as he follows you, eyes glued on your back until you disappear into the bathroom and shut the door.

He wasn’t thinking straight before, and neither were you.

He presses his hand against the door, closing his eyes as he tries to calm his racing heart by taking slower breaths.

“I-I’m sorry, Blondie. I didn’t know!”

“Get me Plan B, right this second, Harrington!”

He doesn’t even hesitate to move, he knocks his hand against the door, “o-okay, I’ll be right back!”

He steps away from the door, rushing over to the dresser in the hallway, he picks up his keys and his wallet before he rushes out of the door.

It’s past midnight on a sunday, the stores are all closed, but the pharmacy has a 24 hours service on weekends, every two weeks or so, and to his and your luck, this weekend is one of those.

Steve had never done anything like this before, he never had to buy one of those pills, he certainly never fucked without protection, not even when he was with Nancy. You’re his first. He wonders if he is yours too. And why is he hoping he was?

He didn’t put much thought into how awkward it would be to ask for a Plan B, but the moment he asked the old lady behind the counter, and she looked at him disapprovingly, he suddenly wished for the ground to swallow him whole.

He explained that it’s for his girlfriend, the one that doesn’t even exist.

She kept glaring at him, sighing and shaking her head.

He slams the fifty dollar bill on the counter, and takes the small box before he rushes out with a flustered look on his face.

“You should go to church and pray, boy.”

He ignores her comment, rolling his eyes the moment he steps out and takes a deep breath.

Pray so the pill will work? Sure. He will try, even though he is certainly not as stressed as you are.

When he comes back home, he finds you sitting on the couch, bouncing your knee and chewing on your nails. He feels guilty, knowing that you’re anxious because of him and his careless move.

He finds the living room all cleaned up, bowls and plates are gone, the coffee table wiped down.

He walks towards you, his eyes soften when your wide ones meet his.

“Here,” he mumbles, handing you the white box that you take from his hands, right away. “I’ll get you something to drink.”

He makes his way into the kitchen, opening the fridge to reach for the diet pepsi he bought earlier. He returns back to you, pill already between your fingers.

“You didn’t have to clean up, you know?” He asks as he pops the can open for you.

“I know, I couldn’t sit still though,” you shrug, taking the can from his hand.

He sits down beside you, watching you throw the pill into your mouth before you swallow it down with the drink, tilting your head back and closing your eyes for a moment.

The marks on your neck are deeper than the ones he left last night and he can’t help but love it, knowing that those will be much harder to cover up.

His eyes move down your body, your chest, your stomach and then your thighs that are still trembling a little.

“Hey,” he whispers, concern flashing in his eyes, “are you okay?”

“Hmm?” You tilt your head back down, and place the pepsi on the coffee table, “yeah… I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, now looking into your eyes.

“Yeah, thanks for this…” You murmur, pointing to the box.

“Don’t need to thank me for that, Blondie,” he waves his hand at you, shaking his head.

As he takes a better look at you, he notices how flustered and nervous you look.

“Look, can we talk?” You ask, your voice now much softer than it was twenty minutes ago as you ordered him to get you the Plan B. It’s even a little shaky, and he notices how your throat bobs as you swallow harshly.

“Sounds like you’re breaking up with me… That’s kinda harsh right after I came inside of you,” he jokes, scratching the back of his neck.

You give him a deadpan look, shoulders slumping as an annoyed sigh leaves your lips.

“Fuck it, I’m leaving,” you grumble as you push yourself up.

But in his panic, he reaches for your hand and pulls you back down. Closing his eyes as he takes a deep breath.

“No, sorry, wait… just… stay.”

He opens his eyes again, to find you looking at him in confusion as his hand is still holding onto you.

“Stay here tonight.”

Your lips part, your eyes moving across his face.

“W-Why do you want me to stay?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do?” He mumbles, pursing his lips as he shrugs slightly. “I’m not like a fuck and kick out kind of guy… But if you want to leave, you can? I-I can drive you home,” he stutters as blood rushes to his cheeks.

You pull your hand out of his grasp, shaking your head at him, “no, no… I’m tired… It’s fine.”

He nods at you.

You look away from him, breaking eye contact and scooting further back on the couch, now looking at anything but him as you both fall silent, too silent.

Well this is certainly awkward, Steve thinks.

You just fucked against the door, like two animals in heat and now you can barely look at each other.

He can’t stand it.

“Okay yeah, we definitely have to talk about all of this.”

You snap your head back at him, “no, shit, Lego head.”

He huffs at you, scratching the back of his neck as he now looks away from you.

“Why are you so… I don’t know… aren’t you supposed to be all cocky and confident, King Steve?”

He narrows his eyes at you, thinking that you are judging, but you’re not, you’re genuinely confused by his behavior right now.

“You would be surprised. I’m like that only with people that don’t… know me.”

“You’re cocky with people you don’t know or… the other way around?”

He can’t give you the answer that you want to know. He can’t let you know. He can’t let you in.

He shakes his head again.

“And also the fact that you and I have a history of pure hatred… So we should talk about this,” he points between you both, redirecting the attention to something else again, leaving you a little speechless.

You clear your throat.

“Well, we fucked.”

He almost wants to chuckle, but he holds back.

“Uh huh, twice.”

“Yeah…”

He blinks, taking a moment to come up with the right words, he presses his palms together as he faces you again.

“My question is… are you done with those two times?”

You raise your brows at him, tilting your head to the side as you give him a puzzled look, while holding your hand up to move your hair back.

He can’t help but roll his eyes at you.

“Can you put your pride aside for just two seconds?” He mumbles. “Cause I definitely wanna keep fucking you, Blondie.”

For a second, and only for a second, you look stunned, before a sour expression takes over your face.

“While you fuck Heidi?”

Now it’s his turn to raise his eyebrows at you, you almost sound and look jealous.

You clear your throat again, “I just want to get this right. We keep fucking… whenever. And what about the rest?”

“The rest?”

“Yes. Exclusivity?”

“Well, there isn’t,” he shrugs, “I see whoever I want and you do… the same.” He almost chokes on his own words.

If he only looked closer, he would’ve seen the look of defeat in your eyes before you looked down.

If only he kept his mouth shut.

If only he knew that his own rule would come back to punch him in his gut.

“O-Okay.”

“Okay?” He repeats your word, eyes lighting up.

You nod, “yeah, but we should set up some rules.”

He nods too, “yeah sure.”

He watches you take a deep breath, licking your lips as you look around the room, the room your friends occupied earlier.

“I’m taking you don’t want anyone to know?” You ask him.

“Well… Yeah.” He shrugs, eyebrows knitting together as he stares at you confused. “I don’t want anyone to know.”

“Uh huh, right.” You mumble. “Okay. A-And, we only fuck, right?”

“Right,” he nods, “this doesn’t make us anything, we just… fuck… yeah.”

You blink, your lips twitch.

“We can spend nights together, I’m not gonna kick you out,” he says, hoping that he can spend the nights with you because for some reason, he can’t get your sleeping figure out of his head. And he almost sighs in relief when he sees you nodding slowly.

“I’m not gonna kick you out either.”

You look into each other’s eyes as you both try to read the other, both of you moving a little closer without even realizing it.

The minutes pass and you both keep setting rules, not knowing that this whole thing will end up in shambles.

After all… Rules are meant to be broken.

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @joekeerysmoles @sherrylyn628 @munsonlore @maroon-cardigan @ibellcipem @agirlwholovesrockstars

#silly stevie reblogs #IM SICK.#the last line. I CANNOT WAIT FOR THIS TO BLOWUP UGHHH #nsfw reblogs :))

663 notes · View notes

weasel-b33 · 1 month

Text

omg omg omg omg. i was not expecting this at all. BUT SAFE TOO SAY I AM SO HAPPY WE HAVE BEEN FED.

the fact the LONGGGGG awaited nickname was HONEYYYY

like jonathon is bug’s bee but stevie is her honey. LIKE IM SICKKKKK

and the story about her dad. sob. she loves him so much but still feels that hint of sadness bc of his abandonment. but to share it with steve like bug is so important to me.

episode nine: the fall

You shake your head at the teen in disappointment. “Never thought I’d have to say this, but please stop licking your sweater, Steve.” He puts his hands up in surrender, albeit with a slight scoff. “Sue a man for not wasting food.”

Summary: surprise ! life still carries on even with minor brain damage from constant concussions :( on the bright side, you and the gang all become homies. meanwhile, steve grapples with the warm fuzzies and parental issues before his worst nightmare happens: you meet robin. the horrors !

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, swearing, mentions of wounds

Words: 9.1k

Before you swing in: this is it !!! last official chapter of season 2 :) this chapter is pure fluff yall. just 9k words of utter disgusting bug n steve, so i hope it makes up for how long it took for them to get to this point lmao. enjoy !

True to your promise with Jonathan, nothing necessarily changes between the two of you; things just shift. You stop being so tactile with him out of respect for Nancy, now only reaching for his hand for comfort rather than to have him so near. It takes some trial and error, but eventually the two of you manage to strike up a good balance.

You still spend most of your days either together at his house or yours. Only now, Nancy accompanies you, and it’s lovely.

“Dustin told me that Steve practically drooled over you last night before the Snowball.” Jonathan teases you, hunched over his kitchen table scribbling a half-assed essay that’s already a day late.

Nancy giggles as you throw your pencil at the boy. “That did not happen, mind your own business.”

“I don’t know, Y/N. He kept staring at you today during lunch.” Nancy slides over her paper and taps her pencil on a particular problem she’s stuck on. She’s still getting used to talking about this with you, but she pushes aside her unease and tries anyway. “Do you know the answer for number five?”

Her words cause you to blush, your mind still reeling from your conversation with Steve last night. You told him you’d wait for him, and he looked at you as if you’d promised him the world and more. Then, today at lunch, Steve had boldly found you sitting with Nancy and Jonathan outside and joined.

It was a welcome change, and he sat so close to you that your thighs pressed together underneath the picnic bench you’d been eating at.

“He wasn’t staring at me,” you mumble, embarrassed and still feeling his weight pressed against you, before sliding your paper over to Nancy. “And I got Henry Ford.”

Frowning, Nancy erases her answer. “That makes no sense.”

“My answer or Steve not staring at me?”

“Both.” Nancy and Jonathan say at the same time.

You throw another pencil at Jonathan. “I wasn’t talking to you, write your late essay.”

He ducks, “Would you stop?”

“Not unless you stop speaking.”

“This is my house, bug–”

“And I can call your mom right now and she’d let me stay.” You cross your arms at Jonathan, knowing you’ve already won the argument. “Any more complaints?”

Jonathan goes back to writing his essay, grumbling under his breath about how you can’t keep pulling the mom card, and you giggle at his anger alongside Nancy. He’s the one who wanted the two of you to get along, he should’ve known that you and Nancy would just make his life miserable.

The three of you go back to working quietly at the table, you and Nancy occasionally asking each other for help on certain questions, while Jonathan grows more and more frustrated by his essay. After he’s angrily scribbled out his fifth line, Nancy snatches the paper from him and points towards the back door.

“Out,” she tells him.

Jonathan blinks. “What?”

“Go outside, take a small walk, and calm down. You’re frustrated and won’t get anywhere if you keep this up.”

They stare at each other, Nancy silently daring him to argue with her, and you watch in amusement. She has him wrapped around her finger, and after only a few seconds, Jonathan sighs and gets up from the kitchen table. “I’m doing this because I want to, alright?”

You snort. “Sure, buddy.”

He gives you the finger, presses a kiss to Nancy’s forehead, and then grabs a coat to go outside.

Once he’s gone, Nancy turns to you and sets down her pencil. “So, how long are you planning on pretending that Steve doesn’t like you?”

You whip your head up, dropping your pencil in the process, startled by her forward question. “I’m sorry?”

“You heard me.”

“I…” Though you’ve slowly gotten used to Nancy being with Jonathan, it still feels too soon to talk to her about Steve, even if she’s given you her blessing. It feels too raw, too inappropriate, to discuss it with her. “I don’t think we should talk about this–”

“C’mon, Y/N. It’s obvious he at least feels something for you, and if anyone deserves Steve, it’s you.” Nancy gently takes your hand, her voice sincere. “He came outside for lunch looking for you today, he drove you to the Snowball, he’s been visiting you at work ever since you smiled at him last year.”

You look away from her. “It’s… complicated.”

“It’s not…” Nancy swallows, clears her throat, and looks away as well. It still has taken her time to adjust to the shift between the four of you, to finally understand that it’s now okay to talk about these things with one another. “It’s not because of me, right?”

A beat of silence passes, and when you don’t say anything, Nancy sighs. “Shit.”

“He’s still healing, Nance.” You admit, feeling bad for bringing this upon her. You don’t want her to feel responsible for any of it, it’s not her fault that the boys you’ve loved have loved her first. The wound of it has healed now, though the scar that it has left will never fade.

You both know this, neither one of you want to admit it to the other.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” She shakes her head, the familiar guilt of somehow always the one hurting you clawing at her. “I wish things had been different between me and him.”

You shrug, you don’t see any reason to blame her. “I don’t.”

“You don’t what?”

“I don’t wish things had been different between the two of you,” you admit, knowing how bizarre it may sound. When Nancy raises her eyebrows, you’re quick to explain. “What I mean is, if Steve had never been with you, who knows who he’d be now? Or if Jonathan had never been my best friend, would you still have found each other?”

Nancy bites her lip, still unconvinced. “I don’t know, Y/N…”

“I think, truthfully, that we all unwound with who we were supposed to.” You’re not sure how to explain this, to express your unusual way of viewing such complex situations. “Without our histories, without being so intertwined with one another, I don’t think we ever would’ve unwound how we were supposed to. Does that make sense?”

“I think so,” Nancy nods, although hesitant. “And Steve is still… Unwinding from me?”

You cringe, knowing how silly it all sounds. “I know it sounds dumb, but he is, and while I’m not saying he doesn’t like me… I told him to take his time.”

“You’d really wait for him?”

“I would.”

Nancy sighs and goes back to her assignment, continuously amazed by your selflessness. “You’re too good.”

You shrug again, now used to being told this by others. It doesn’t bother you like it used to, you’ve come to view your kindness as something wholly yours and no one else’s to understand. It took so much violence to become so kind, and you will never, ever apologize for it now. “It adds to my charm.”

Jonathan walks back in right as Nancy bursts into loud laughter, you do as well, the remaining tension between you and her now gone. He sees the way she clutches her stomach and how you have to grab onto the table so you don’t fall over as you laugh. “Did I miss something?”

You wipe at your eyes, still giggling. “No, bee. Sit down and do your work.”

“Yeah,” Nancy giggles again, feeling breathless. “What Y/N said.”

“You two are the worst.” Jonathan slumps in his seat and goes back to his essay.

“You love us,” you tease, knowing that he hasn’t told Nancy this yet.

He smiles shyly and avoids Nancy’s eye. “Yeah, I do.”

They both blush and there’s a childish energy to them, shy and soft and sweet. You watch them with a warm smile, endlessly happy for them both; they’re sweet to watch, still shy around one another.

As you watch Jonathan and Nancy giggle softly as they help each other with their assignments, looking over at you for help as well, you know that junior year is finally starting to look up.

–

Steve continues to join you, Jonathan, and Nancy for lunch. He makes himself a permanent seat next to you, never once straying far from your side, and eventually he even ends up back in the library with the three of you.

It’s reminiscent of your sophomore year, back when you’d just defeated the Demogorgon and Nancy had gone back to Steve. For a brief few months, you’d all study in the library together and formed your own nice, albeit tense, group.

Then lines and threads became tangled and unspoken feelings became harsh actions.

Now, Nancy and Jonathan are whispering about something, off in their own world, and you’re currently helping Steve with an English assignment.

It’s the last day before winter break, so it’s hard getting him to pay attention to what you’re saying. All he can focus on is the way you’ve pinned your hair up, some pieces of hair falling over your face, and how you look so lovely in your white sweater.

“Are you listening to me?” You ask him, narrowing your eyes.

Steve coughs, knowing he’s been caught. “Yeah, totally.”

“Okay,” you cross your arms and lean back in your seat, distancing yourself from the boy, which only makes him frown. “What did I just say, then?”

“C’mere,” he huffs at you, tugging at your chair so that you’re now pressed flush against him; just the way he likes it. You blush, your stomach flutters wildly at the idea that he can’t be more than five inches away from you. Steve sees this, sends you a wink, and tries to use this to his advantage. “We both know I wasn’t listening, angel.”

Angel.

It’s become his new name for you, though he hasn’t said it since the night of the Snowball; the name drips from his lips as if saturated in sunlight. Although you want to litter his face with kisses and call him lovely and handsome and wonderful, you know that in this instance, Steve has only used the nickname to get on your good side.

And two can play that game.

“I don’t know, honey.” You lean in closer to Steve, angling your head so that you look up at him while you use your own name for him. His breath always hitches when you look up at him like this, when you call him honey again for the first time all sweet and soft. “I was hoping you’d been listening.”

Steve gulps, he’s still not used to the way your voice dips low when you want his attention. How when you call him honey he swears he can taste the residue of it in his mouth. He leans closer as well, your faces inches apart, and he’s forgotten what the two of you are even talking about. “I–I’m sorry?”

As soon as he’s apologized, you pull yourself away, just before Steve’s lips land on yours, and go back to the English assignment. You’re immensely pleased with yourself, especially when Steve almost face plants against the library table when you suddenly move away. “Apology accepted! Now, let’s go back to Shakespeare, shall we?”

Steve’s jaw drops, only now realizing that he’s been tricked. “Oh, that was evil, Y/N.”

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game.” You wink at him, and Steve has never wanted to kiss a smirk off of someone’s face more.

He’s addicted to it, honestly.

Later that day, once school has let out, Steve drives you to work. This was another shift that came with Jonathan and Nancy getting together. While your best friend still drives you to school, it’s now Steve who drives you to work and picks you up.

He enjoys spending the time with you, having you all to himself during the simple ten minute drive to Bookstrordinary. The two of you rarely say much during these drives, and it’s everything Steve could ask for and more; he simply has you with him, nothing else needs to be said or done.

Mrs. Waters greets him with a knowing smile, the woman has become more invested in Steve’s infatuation with you than even your mother. “Hello, young man.”

“Hi, Mrs. Waters.” Steve gives her a wave and walks over to his usual station: behind the counter, waiting for you.

You give your boss a quick hug and clock in. “Any new shipments today?”

“All the new books are in the back, so make sure your handsome man does all the heavy lifting, sweetie.” Mrs. Waters giggles at her own words before she slowly makes her way into her office.

“Well,” you nudge Steve. “You heard the woman, you’re a handsome man. Go do the heavy lifting.”

The compliment, though indirect, still rolls over Steve in slow, warm waves. He smiles bashfully at you. “Handsome, huh?”

“Oh, don’t pretend as if you didn’t know.” You flick his nose and walk over to the back door to start retrieving the new shipment. “Seriously, though. Could you help me with these boxes?”

Steve is quick to run over and help, he will always be happy to help you, but before he picks up a box, a thought occurs to him. Leaning against the doorframe, he smirks at you. “I’ll help, after you explain to me that little stunt you pulled earlier in the library.”

“What stunt?” A huff escapes you as you try to pick up a box, but Mrs. Waters had been right. The shipment is heavy, and Steve is currently useless.

“The whole ‘honey’ thing.”

You look up at Steve, knowing exactly what he’s asking, but you toy with him anyways. “Only if you explain the whole ‘angel’ thing.”

“C’mon, Y/N.” He groans, annoyed that you’re so good at dodging all of his questions. He doesn’t know what makes you Hendersons so great at deception, but it’s a terrifying thing to witness. “You’re an angel, it’s a fitting name for you.”

Though you’d been expecting him to say this, hearing Steve’s explanation still causes you to blush. Normally it bothers you when people call you an angel and act as if you’re some person above everyone else, but with Steve you know that he means it so genuinely. To him, you’re an angel because he knows you so well.

He doesn’t view you as this innocent creature that can do no wrong; Steve knows how you came to be, he knows the anger you once held, and it’s because of this that he has come to view you as angelic. It takes a lot for someone to become kind again, and Steve knows this better than anyone else.

“You’re sweet honey,” you finally respond, your face still warm from the vulnerability. You want to try for him, become okay with the feeling of being seen. “You asked for a nickname, and that’s what I’ve landed on. Any more questions?”

Steve practically melts against the doorway, and you almost giggle at the sight. “I’m honey?”

“Mhm, sweet honey, but honey sounds less dramatic.”

He laughs, his head is spinning and he’s so enamored with you. “Okay, I like that, but can I ask one more question before I agree to helping you?”

You roll your eyes but nod, secretly enjoying this moment with him. “Ask away.”

“Why honey? Not that I’m complaining, but…” Steve shrugs. “Not so creative.”

You gasp, “Are you saying you don’t accept my nickname for you?”

“No! I–” Steve frantically tries to correct what he’s said, but you grab his hand to calm him down.

“Relax, Steve. I was teasing,” you give his hand a squeeze, his fingers are strong against yours, and take a deep breath. The explanation is more intimate than you’d like, but he deserves to know. “Did you know that honey can be used to treat wounds?”

Steve shakes his head, silent as he listens.

“It’s a natural remedy, an unsuspecting cure, disguised as something only sweet.” You’re suddenly shy again, but you offer Steve more of yourself because you can; because he’s here, all warmth and love and summer. He’s healed wounds within you that you hadn’t known existed until you noticed their scars fading—cuts that have littered your skin from abandonment, guilt, and love. “When I was young, my dad would take me to this local farm on my birthday every summer and he would buy me honey. We’d use it to make sweet tea.”

You pause, the memory practically on your tongue as you remember the taste of the local farmer’s honey and how it would drizzle, slow and smooth, into your sweet tea. You remember your father’s laugh, how he would boast to the entire town that his sweet tea could win awards. “I never really liked tea, but my dad’s sweet tea was amazing.”

The honey had been his secret ingredient.

Steve is quiet after you’ve finished your story. He takes his time responding, he allows the story you’ve told to sink in, he rolls it around in his head, memorizes its details. He knows that you don’t like talking about your father, and the fact that you’ve shared a happy memory about him with Steve…

“Thank you,” he says. There’s a weight behind his thanks, he knows he will never be able to put into words how much this means to him. He tries, though, and pours every truth that he can into his words, “I love the nickname.”

The two of you begin unpacking the new shipment of books after that, working silently side by side.

It’s a lovely summer day within Bookstrordinary, even though it’s the middle of winter in Hawkins.

–

This Christmas Eve, you have your entire kitchen on lockdown. No one is allowed to come in, all food and drinks have been thrown onto the dining room table for others to use. Your hair is tied up, your apron is on, and you’ve banished Dustin from even looking at you.

“This is excessive, even for you.” Dustin scoffs from the living room, annoyed that he can’t even sit at the counter and watch.

You’ve just preheated the oven and are now whisking your dry ingredients together for Mike’s favorite brownies. There’s a rack of Will’s oatmeal raisin cookies on the counter cooling off, alongside Mrs. Wheeler’s sugar cookies she loves. “You lost your baking privileges when you mixed up the salt and sugar last year. Those gingerbread cookies were awful.”

“They’re both white! How was I supposed to know?”

“Stop talking and leave,” you point towards the living room with your whisk and some powder flies out of the bowl in the process.

Dustin tries to argue, but then the doorbell rings and he immediately breaks out into a shit eating grin. “Perfect timing.”

“What–” You try to question what your brother is up to, but he’s already run to answer the door. Sighing, you slowly mix in your wet ingredients and mumble to yourself, “I hate him. I really do.”

“Who do we hate?” Steve slides into the kitchen, not a care in the world, and slides right into Jonathan’s peanut butter cups. “Shit!”

“Steve!” You quickly catch the desserts, barely able to hold onto the bowl of brownie batter in your hands. Once the crisis is averted, you turn to Steve and begin hitting him with your batter covered whisk, effectively ruining his sweater. “What are you doing here?”

“I invited him!” Dustin now slides into the kitchen as well, a gleeful look in his eyes.

Meanwhile, Steve looks down at the batter he’s covered in and scraps some off with his finger before bringing it to his mouth. He hums, nods appreciatively, and smacks his lips. “Ya know, why haven’t I had this before?”

“The brownies are for Mike.” Dustin says, sneakily popping a peanut butter cup into his mouth.

“Wheeler should share, this batter is delicious.” Steve licks some more off of his sweater and you and Dustin cringe at him. When he sees this, he simply shrugs at you both. “What? My sweater is clean.”

You shake your head at the teen in disappointment. “Never thought I’d have to say this, but please stop licking your sweater, Steve.”

He puts his hands up in surrender, albeit with a slight scoff. “Sue a man for not wasting food.”

You blow a piece of hair out of your face and go back to the batter. “Again I ask: what are you doing here?”

“Like the kid said, he invited me.” Steve points to Dustin, who sends you a thumbs up. “Didn’t know I’d be walking into a war zone, though.”

“It’s Christmas Eve,” you say, as if this is all the explanation he needs. When Steve only tilts his head at you in confusion, you huff and put down your bowl so you can quickly explain. “I bake everyone their favorite desserts for Christmas, and normally it’s fine. However, now I have Max, Nancy, Hopper, and El to add to my baking list and I…”

You stumble, now suddenly feeling the effects of baking all day catching up to you. You’re slightly woozy, you can’t remember if you had lunch today. “I’m doing great, honestly.”

“She’s going insane.” Dustin loudly whispers to Steve, his fingers circling around his head in a “crazy” motion.

Steve ignores the boy and stands next to you, placing a hand to the small of your back and leans over your shoulder, allowing you to lean back against him. It’s a simple gesture, and you melt immediately against him. “Give me a bowl and recipe, angel. I’ll help you bake.”

You reluctantly move away from Steve and quickly find a piece of paper and a pen to scribble the recipe for Nancy’s chocolate chip cookies. It’s an easy enough recipe, you trust that Steve can handle the basics.

As you hand the recipe to him, Dustin’s jaw drops. “What, no fair! Why can’t I help bake?”

“Salt and sugar, Dustin. Salt and sugar.”

Steve gathers the ingredients he needs. “Do you have a spare apron?”

“I mean, sure,” you show him where one hangs next to the doorway. “But you’re already covered in brownie batter, so I’m not sure why you need one now.”

“Wanna match with you,” Steve quickly ties the strings around his waist, the apron is far too small on him and it makes you giggle.

Dustin, now very much third wheeling, throws his hands up in the air and marches out of the room. “You two are disgusting, ya know that?”

“Love you too!” You call after the boy, who responds by marching even louder towards his room.

With your brother gone and with Steve’s help, you manage to get through the rest of your baking list in no time. While you hadn’t expected Steve to necessarily fail in the kitchen, you were also pleasantly surprised by how comfortable he seemed to be while helping you bake.

“How’d you get so good at measuring sugar?”

Steve doesn’t look up from his measuring cup, too focused on the task at hand as he carefully counts out how many cups he will need. “My mom.”

“Oh,” you breathe out, not having expected the answer. He never really brought his parents up, something that you’ve noticed but never touched on with him. You figured it was like your father, never wanting to talk about someone who has hurt you.

Hesitantly, you try to learn more. “Does she bake with you a lot?”

“She used to,” Steve counts his third cup and mixes it into the bowl, now working on Max’s coconut bites. “Back when I was little, we used to bake her banana bread together all the time.”

His voice is light, the conversation isn’t a painful one for Steve, so you decide it’s safe to press further. “Well, if you can remember the recipe, I’m sure we can bake it today.”

Steve looks up at you, eyes wide. “You mean it?”

“Of course I mean it, dummy.” The way he’s looking at you with such genuine enthusiasm makes your heart hurt; he’s surprised you’ve offered him kindness. “I was going to bake you those caramel banana cookies, so I have some ripe bananas anyways–”

You’re cut off by Steve’s arms wrapping around you. He holds you tight, and he smells of sugar and cinnamon; it’s an addicting scent. “Thank you,” he breathes out, touched that you would do such a thing for him, and you tighten around him, happy that you’re able to give him this.

Later that night, when you walk Steve to his car after a long day of baking, he opens his passenger side door and grabs something from the seat. You watch him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What are you doing?”

“You think I came all the way here on Christmas Eve without a gift for you?” Steve teases, a smirk on his face as he hides something behind his arms.

You gasp, “You planned this, didn’t you?”

“Dustin called, I answered, and I saw it as the perfect opportunity to surprise you,” he shrugs, as if it’s no big deal. “Plus, I got homemade banana bread out of it, so shush and close your eyes.”

“Fine, but only because I have your gift waiting in my room. The second we’re done here, I’m running inside and bragging about my impeccable gift giving abilities.”

Steve chuckles fondly, knowing that whatever you will give him will ultimately be his favorite gift he’s ever received. “Okay, moron. Close your eyes.”

With a giggle, you close your eyes and eagerly await whatever you’re about to be given. Steve’s gift from last year, a signed poster of the original Spider-Man comic, now hangs on your bedroom wall. You love it dearly, every time you look at it, you smile.

Something soft is placed within your hands. Its texture is woolen, the material is heavy yet lightweight, and while you can’t figure out exactly what it is, you can’t help but notice how expensive it feels. “Okay, open your eyes.”

You do, and when you see what Steve has given you, you gasp. “Oh, it’s beautiful!”

Within your hands is a cardigan. The wool it has been knitted with is a lovely cream color, and you bring the clothing closer to admire all the wonderful details within the knit pattern. With small pieces of wool, hints of baby blues and pinks weave in and out of the cream. Along the front are buttons made from a beautiful dark wood, polished to perfection.

Steve lets out a nervous chuckle and stuffs his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, well. Figured I owed you a new cardigan after basically tearing apart your old one.”

“I was bleeding out, Steve.” Your finger traces over a button, its wood is cool to the touch and so smooth that you can hardly believe it’s real. “If you hadn’t torn my favorite cardigan to stop the bleeding, I wouldn’t be alive today to call you an idiot for even considering I would be mad about that–”

As you admire one of the sleeves, your finger catches on something. Turning the clothing around, you see, within the inside of the sleeve, a messily sewn on patch. The stitches are crooked and horribly uneven, clearly done by someone unskinned with a needle. “What’s this?”

Steve clears his throat, uncharacteristically flustered. “Just… Something I added.”

The patch is small, no bigger than an inch or so, with messy handwriting on it that has become familiar to you through long hours at Bookstrordinary helping you write down all the orders needed for shipments.

S.H.

Steve must mistake your stunned silence for disgust, because he quickly tries to take the cardigan away from you in embarrassment. “Fuck, you–you think it’s weird and you hate it and I went too far–”

He had wanted to give you a piece of himself somehow.

His panicked rambling is cut off by your entire body being thrown against his. Suddenly he has an armful of you, flushed against him in the December chill, and Steve’s heartbeat threatens to beat out of his chest. He has you right where he wants you, in his arms with your perfume swirling around his brain as he buries his face into your hair.

Everything calms within him, all the panic and insecurity he had just been feeling is now gone.

“It’s perfect,” you whisper, not even bothering to hide the fact that you’re now crying. No one has ever made something for you, and the hand sewn patch that now resides on your beautiful cardigan makes everything within you burn.

Steve’s fingers slowly make their way to your hair and he risks pressing a kiss atop of your head. He relishes in the way his lips feel against your hair, how it feels like he’s done this all his life. “You really like it?”

“I love it.” You pull your head from his chest and catch his eye. They shine when they look at you, and you can’t help but think about how similar they look compared to last summer. Last July Steve had looked at you like he’d fall to his knees for you and kiss every crevice of your skin if you’d asked him to, and you had run away, terrified of the feelings you weren’t ready to face.

Now, as Steve stares down at you still as if you’re holding the sun within your hands, all you can think is home.

Home.

What a fascinating concept, being able to find a home within someone’s arms.

And it’s a fall like no other.

“I’m glad you love it,” Steve is breathless, both relieved and in awe that he’s done something to render you this speechless, that he has this effect on you.

Neither of you know how long you stand there wrapped in each other, but eventually you force yourself to detangle from the boy. When Steve groans at the loss of your touch, you gently shove him away with a smile. “I still owe you a gift, dummy.”

He thinks about this for a moment, hums to himself and taps his finger against his chin. You giggle, which is all he wanted to make you do, and finally he seems to come to a decision. “Fine, I will allow this because I wanna know what you got me.”

“Mhm, that’s what I thought.” You flick Steve’s nose and begin walking towards your house. “I’ll be back in a second!”

Steve watches as you run back inside, the cardigan he has gifted you is clutched tightly to your chest, and he knows he’s falling as well. He can feel it, the slight tug within his chest that expands into a warmth that steadily beats alongside his heart.

As you promised, you’re back with a small box wrapped in a simple blue paper within no time. Only this time, you’re now wearing the cardigan and Steve’s heart skips a beat when he sees you.

You’re practically skipping as you return to his side, stupidly excited for Steve to see what you’ve gotten for him; you all but shove the gift into his hands. “Open it!”

He can’t help but laugh at your enthusiasm, though his heartbeat still hasn’t quite settled yet. “So bossy.”

You ignore Steve’s teasing and instead watch the look on his face as he unwraps the box and opens its lid. Within the box, tucked delicately between sheets of tissue paper, is a framed photo of Steve and Dustin.

A mix of emotions cross Steve’s face, from shock to curiosity to pure adoration. His lips part slightly, a slight gasp escapes him. “Y/N…”

You’re beaming, though you shrug as if it’s just another Monday for you. The photo is your favorite, taken the other day while they worked on a robot set that Steve had brought over. “Jonathan left his camera at my place a few weeks ago, and you and Dustin looked incredibly sweet working together, so… I snuck a picture while you two were busy bickering over drill bit sizes.”

In the picture, Dustin’s hands are gesturing wildly at Steve, his eyes manic, yet there’s a genuine smile on both of their faces despite the clear indications that they’re arguing. Tools are scattered around them and a poor, misshapen robot lays discarded on the table in front of them, long forgotten in the midst of their argument.

It’s the perfect photo, honestly.

Steve lets out a wet chuckle, his eyes are shining with fondness. “That kid is such a pain in the ass.”

“Yeah, but you can’t help but love him anyway.” You nudge him, drawing his attention back to you. “It’s not often I see Dustin befriend someone so quickly, ya know.”

Steve ducks his head down, flushed from what you’re implying. “Yeah, well. He’s a good kid.”

“He is.” You stand on your tiptoes and press your lips against his cheek, before whispering into his ear, “and so are you.”

You feel Steve shiver, and he grips at your waist so that you can’t back away again. He pauses for a moment, allows your words to sink in and your kiss to seep throughout his body. There’s more he wants to say, his lips practically beg to be drawn to yours, but he takes a deep breath and says what he knows he can give you. “Merry Christmas, angel.”

“Merry Christmas, honey.” Your lips graze Steve’s ear and he shivers again. This, he knows, is where he was always meant to be.

–

Spring comes, and Steve doesn’t get into any of the colleges he applied for.

It’s a hard blow, and the months you’ve spent trying to rebuild his confidence comes crashing down within seconds.

Steve draws into himself, you don’t see him at school for a few days and he doesn’t stop by your work. He’s embarrassed, hiding from his shame of not being good enough to even get into Tech. He’s everything his father told him he’d be. A failure, an embarrassment to the Harrington name.

You give Steve a few days to himself, trusting that he’ll come back when he’s ready; you know how deeply he carries the weight of his father’s expectations. However, when almost a week goes by without any word from the teen, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

Which leads you to now: knocking on Steve’s door with platters of fresh baked goods, Mike and the others holding their own assortment of snacks and movies for tonight.

It took a lot of bargaining and multiple batches of brownies, but in the end you convinced Dustin and the others to surprise Steve with a movie night at his house. You knew his parents would be out of town this week, they’re hardly ever home anyways.

After a few swift knocks, you don’t have to wait long before Steve opens the door. He looks tired, his hair is a mess and he’s wearing the ratty sweatpants that you absolutely hate on him. It looks like he hasn’t slept in days, and when he sees who is behind his door, he frowns. “Why are you all holding snacks?”

“Well, hello to you too, buddy.” Dustin is the first to enter, shoving past Steve without a care in the world. He looks around and whistles, impressed with the house. “Y/N said you were rich, but damn.”

“Is that a pool?” Lucas makes his way in as well, Max loosely holding his hand as she follows.

El looks up at you. “What is a pool?”

“Mike,” you call for the boy to get his attention. When he turns to you, brownie shoved in his mouth, you point towards El. “Can you explain to her what a pool is while I talk to Steve?”

Mike salutes you and grabs El’s hand, yanking her inside so that you’re left alone with the teen. As soon as they’re gone, Steve lets out an exasperated sigh. “What is this, Y/N?”

“Mandatory movie night!” You exclaim, hoping that your fake enthusiasm will be enough to rub off on him as well. You really, really hope that this plan works.

Steve sighs again, his heart isn’t in it to play along. “Y/N…”

“You’ve missed an entire week of school and Bookstrordinary misses its most loyal customer.” You’re basically pleading now, scared that Steve will turn you and everyone else away. “I just… I miss you and I know you enjoy the kids, even if you try to deny it, and I want you to just spend this one night with us. No worrying about the future, no family drama, just me, you, and the kids as we watch horrible scary movies and eat an unhealthy amount of sugar, okay?”

“But–”

“No, you’re not allowed to argue with me.” Steve stares at you, baffled, but you simply barge past him and enter the home as well. “We’re going to have fun tonight, damn it.”

He watches as you walk inside and start ordering the kids around. Within no time, you’ve arranged a neat row of cookies and brownies and chips and dinosaur nuggets on his dining room table while the kids start making a fort in the living room.

Steve sighs, knowing he’s long lost this battle with you, and joins you to help with grabbing more blankets and pillows for the fort.

One part of the deal for a movie night at Steve’s was allowing all the kids to pick their own movie to watch. You’d been very hesitant to say yes to this, but ultimately Mike’s nagging won in the end. His movie choice goes first, and within the first fifteen minutes of it, a fort has been made and the kids quickly settle within it, a mess of sheets and pillows and blankets.

You’re on the couch, lazily stretched out, knowing that there’s no room for you in the fort with the others. You don’t mind, you honestly prefer having the couch to yourself, and you only further come to enjoy this when Steve makes his way into the living room and looks around.

“Where am I supposed to sit?” He asks, slightly offended that he doesn’t get to share the fort.

“Here,” you pat the couch, though you don’t bother to make any room for him. Your entire body rests on the couch, there isn’t enough space for him to sit comfortably on the edge.

Steve bites his lip. He wants, more than anything, to lay on top of you and melt into your body, but he just isn’t sure what boundaries have been placed between the two of you. When you notice his misplaced hesitation, you simply sigh and tug at his legs, causing him to fall on top of you. “Shit–”

He collapses onto you and your body braces for his impact, the weight of him foreign yet welcome. He’s wearing the cologne you love and you reach for his shirt to tug him closer so that he’s now properly laying on you. You sigh happily, wrapping your arms around Steve. “See, was that so hard?”

“If you wanted to cuddle, you could’ve just asked.” Steve grumbles, but he situates himself so that he’s laying more comfortably on you and scoops you into his own arms as well. He rests his head against your chest and your fingers find their way into his hair, as they always seem to do.

Steve closes his eyes and lets himself enjoy your touch, for once not caring that the kids are just below the two of you in their fort. Normally he’s more reserved around you when they’re near, especially Dustin.

That kid never lets Steve catch a break when it comes to you.

But he’s exhausted and has spent the last week either crying or pretending that he’s someone he isn’t, so Steve indulges in your warmth and relishes in the way your fingers seem to unconsciously draw small circles on his back; he’s so fucking grateful that you exist.

You’re always there to catch him, to remind him of who he can be despite his continuous flaws.

The surprise movie night ends up being everything Steve needs. He laughs at Mike’s horrible jokes, shows El how to use the VHR, he argues with Max about whether peanut butter belongs with chocolate, Dustin throws popcorn at you when you kiss Steve’s cheek, and Lucas even asks him about basketball and if he has any advice for him once he gets to high school.

It’s the most fun Steve has had in a while, and he realizes why you spend so much time with these kids. They’re everything, really. Smart and fucking hilarious and easy to be around. They’re honest with him, they tell him he’s an idiot for not getting into college while in the same breath debating with him about if college is even worth it.

Plus, you litter Steve’s face with more kisses than usual tonight, which only brightens his mood further. You’ve been more affectionate with him lately, holding his hand more often and pressing your lips wherever you can. It’s as if he’s found some key, unlocking all the love you’ve stored within you.

Steve isn’t an idiot, he knows there’s more to it, so do you. However, rather than acknowledge it, you both choose to simply bask in it. It’s not time yet, bringing this into the light. It’s delicate, still forming into something that Steve is sure will be incredible.

For now, he allows his lips to skim across your face while the kids aren’t looking. They’ve been dying to do this ever since he’s known you, and the giggle you let out is more than enough for him.

–

Spring turns to summer and before Steve knows it, he’s graduating.

He rolls over in bed and stares at the ceiling. The Harrington household is quiet. His parents have gone on yet another business trip, his father had scoffed when Steve had asked if they’d be back in time for his ceremony.

“Why should we attend if you’re not going to do anything with that diploma?”

“Right,” Steve had scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed that he had even thought to ask his father to come. “I’m sorry.”

His mother, who had been quiet as they spoke, only stepped forward once her husband had left the room. She brought a hand to his face and tentatively stroked his cheek with her finger. “I’m proud of you, my beautiful boy.”

Steve had smiled at her, knowing that she meant well and yet heartbroken that she couldn’t voice this in front of his father. She smiled sadly at him, as if she sensed what he had been thinking, before following after her husband. As she always does.

The doorbell rings, effectively breaking Steve out of his momentary self pity. He looks at his alarm clock and frowns. It’s early in the morning, he doesn’t know who could be at the door at such an hour.

Sighing, he gets out of bed and makes his way downstairs angry at the world. He’s tired of growing up, his parents suck, he’s almost definitely skipping his graduation ceremony, and now he has to get out of bed to go answer the door.

He opens the door and when he sees that it’s you, his mood drastically improves. You’re dressed in a pretty lavender sundress, a departure from your usual t-shirts and shorts that Steve has come to associate as your summer uniform. By the time he manages to take his eyes off of you, he realizes too late that you’re holding flowers and shoving your way into his home.

“Ready to graduate?” You ask, carefully setting the flowers down on his kitchen table. “You can’t skip it if I’m here, ya know.”

Steve groans. “How did you even know I was going to skip?”

“Because you’re predictable and I enjoy making you do what’s best for you.” You’ve grabbed his hand and are dragging him towards his room. “Now, go find something nice to wear while I put your flowers in a vase.”

“But–”

You don’t give Steve any time to argue as you’ve already left the room to go and take care of the flowers. He lets out another groan, he knows he can’t argue his way out of this one. You’ve dressed up for a graduation, bought Steve flowers, and now he has to put on some stupid outfit to make a smile cross your pretty little face.

He settles on a simple white button down shirt and a pair of nice dress pants, and you return to his room as he’s struggling with the buttons. When you see him, you laugh with affection and walk over to him. “Here, let me see.”

Steve lets you button his shirt, your breath is warm against his chest as your fingers quickly secure the buttons into the place. He admires the cute frown on your face as you concentrate, and he allows his hands to come up to yours and slots your fingers together. You’re taken aback by the sudden affection.

“What are you doing?” You ask, a familiar blush on your face from his touch. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to this.

“Nonthin’.” Steve says, though he lets go of one of your hands and places it on the small of your back as he always does. He uses the hand to push you closer and the other hand remains intertwined with yours. He stares down at you, he’s close enough to count every eyelash that dots along your pretty eyes. “Just admiring you.”

“Is this some ploy to distract me from your graduation?” Though you try to tease him, you’re weak and let out a soft sigh when Steve pulls you even closer, feeling his body against yours. He’s allowed himself to become bolder with you, and as if to prove this, he tucks your hair behind your ear and kisses your brow. You exhale with a shaky breath, your resolve dwindles. “Honey…”

Steve chuckles at your reaction, revels in it. He hopes to one day memorize all the ways he can make you sigh his name and shiver against him. For now, however, he pulls away and finishes getting dressed. “I know, I know. Graduation time.”

The perfectly aimed sandal that you throw at him is enough to solidify to Steve that he is, truly, happy.

–

Dustin is the first one Steve sees in the bleachers, then Mike, and then El, before he realizes that the entire party has managed to make it to his graduation ceremony.

“You invited them?” He turns to you, somehow surprised that you would do such a simple and lovely thing.

“Of course I did.” You kiss his cheek and quickly fix his hair as you adjust his graduation cap. You’ve been fretting over his appearance ever since you left his house, and he hates how giddy he feels whenever you dote on him. “Now, go find your seat and don’t trip on the stage!”

You’re gone in a flash, leaving Steve alone as you go and join the kids in the bleachers with all the other friends and family in attendance. The school’s gym is packed, everyone has someone there for them to see them walk across the stage, and though Steve’s actual family isn’t here, he has you and the kids in the stands cheering for him.

Steve decides, then, that you and the kids are his true family.

The ceremony is long and boring, and Steve spends the entire time sneaking glances at you.

You’re attentive, nodding along to all the boring speeches made by teachers and clapping for every student’s name that is called. He sees you breakup a fight between Mike and Max over something, he guesses it’s probably something dumb, and he laughs when you switch seats with Max in the end.

As he watches you, Steve feels what he felt the first day he ever spoke to you when you almost hit his car with your bike. When he’d gotten out of his car and found you laying in the ditch, he felt what he feels now: a slow, all encompassing wave of sunlight.

He felt it when he drove you home the following week and you’d told him he wasn’t a bad person, and he felt it again when you’d spared him kindness at Jonathan’s while fighting the Demogorgon. Then, in front of the hospital’s vending machine, the sunlight turned into a fireplace within his chest when you’d giggled and told him you were friends.

Since then, the fire has only burned deeper within Steve. It burned when he’d gifted you that poster, when he had spent every day at your job just to be near you. It had burned Steve when you’d left him that summer, the sting of it unbearable as it seared his skin. Then it had dimmed, abandoned, until you came back again and reignited it once more.

When you whispered confessions to Steve in the dark, he felt it then. When you sacrificed your life to save his, leaving a scar on your rib cage that Steve can feel whenever he hugs you, he felt it then as well. The fire was there when you leaned against him, accepted the help he has always tried to provide for you, when he gave you a piggyback ride back inside Jonathan’s and tucked you into bed.

It all comes back to Steve in flashes.

Your promise to him to wait, to stay even though he couldn’t give you what you deserved, what you needed. The gentleness of your promise and the framed photo of him and Dustin that now sits proudly on his bedside table. The surprise movie nights, how you call him “honey” and he calls you “angel”.

It’s always been there.

The warmth had started back before Steve even knew what warmth was, when he first saw you. He had been thirteen and you had been twelve.

Now, at almost seventeen and eighteen, you’re cheering for Steve’s name as it’s called upon the stage and he finally knows what this feeling is. Steve accepts his diploma and shakes hands with his principal and he swears he can hear your voice, screaming his name with pure joy, above everyone else’s; it’s as if his body is attuned to yours.

This, Steve knows, is love.

–

The school year ends and summer break begins.

There’s a new mall in Hawkins, one that’s big and flashy and opens just in time for summer vacation. Dustin spends entire days there with the party before he reluctantly leaves for Camp Know Where. You miss your brother dearly, but you know the camp is good for him.

When you find out that Jonathan and Nancy have become interns at the Hawkins Post, you scream and throw yourself into their arms, incredibly proud of them, yet you’re sad as well. You didn’t realize that you’d be spending your last summer before senior year apart from your best friend, though you know he’s always dreamed of showcasing his photography.

It’s bittersweet, but when Steve gets a job at the new mall, the free ice cream that you get makes up for it.

Plus, his uniform for Scoops Ahoy doesn’t hurt.

“You’re not allowed to laugh.” Steve threatens you, horribly self conscious with how short his shorts are. You made him promise to show you the uniform, but now he’s seriously regretting it as you bite your lip; he sees the laugh before it comes. “I mean it! No laughing, it’s already bad enough that I have to work–”

He’s cut off by your loud, smug laugh. It overtakes your entire body as you hunch over, gasping for breath as you wheeze out, “You look great!”

Steve hides behind the ice cream counter, absolutely mortified. Here he is, being laughed at by the girl he’s so fucking in love with, as he wears a stupid sailor hat and a god damn ascot.

In between your laughs, you see the despair on Steve’s face and you try to calm down. “Okay, I’m sorry,” you wipe tears from your eyes, still slightly giggling. “It’s just… You look so adorable in that uniform!”

Immediately Steve straightens his back and crosses his arms, trying to look more dignified. “One, never call a man adorable. That’s just offensive. Two, I will not get out from behind this counter until you stop giggling at me.”

“Who are we giggling at?” An unfamiliar girl now appears, wearing the exact same uniform that Steve is, and when she sees you standing in front of the teen, she raises her eyebrows in disbelief. “Henderson with Harrington?”

She knows your name, and you quickly wrack your head to try and figure out why she looks so familiar. At the very least, you know she has to be a grade below you, though you can’t quite place her, which you feel bad about. She looks kind.

“Yes, Henderson with Harrington.” You extend your hand out for the girl to shake. “I’m Y/N, though I guess you already knew that.”

“Robin Buckley,” she accepts your handshake, giving you an interested smile. She already seems to like you, which you’re relieved by.

Steve watches this interaction with pure dread. He had met Robin a few days ago during his interview for the job, and she’s made his life a living hell of torment and teasing ever since. Now, with you two meeting, he knows that you’ll only add onto Robin’s incredibly quick wit. “Oh, please don’t become friends.”

“Too late.” You wink at Robin. “Wanna check out this insanely large mall together?”

Robin gasps. “It’d be my pleasure.” She hops over the counter, completely bypassing the door that lets you out, and loops her arm through yours. “Later, dingus!”

“Bye, Steve!”

He stands there, defeated, as you and Robin giggle together while you leave. It only took thirty seconds before you abandoned him like some traitor. Sighing, he picks up a rag and starts wiping down the tables in the ice cream shop.

From the corner of his eye he can see you and Robin running around the mall. You’re giggling as you chase after the girl, your hair is tied in a loose ponytail and one of the straps on your overalls has slid down your arm. You look happy, bright and alive, far from the girl Steve remembers from last winter.

It takes Steve’s breath away.

Then, as if you can sense his eyes on you, you turn. Your eyes connect, your cheeks are flushed from running and you’re breathless as you smile at him. Steve returns your smile, winks, and he can almost hear your giggle.

You finally look away, going back to chasing after Robin as the two of you retreat further into the mall, and as your figure fades in the distance, there’s only one thing on Steve’s mind.

I can’t wait to make her mine.

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