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keeryhours · 2 months ago

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there is no other love (it’s only yours) - steve harrington

Steve Harrington x female! reader

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Summary:

You and your best friend are constantly mistaken for a couple - sometimes you have a little fun with it.

Or, 5 times you were mistaken for Steve Harrington’s girlfriend, and the one time you really were.

Warnings:

Kissing, underage drinking, just fluff

Word Count: 8k

A/N:

Wow this is finally getting posted! This has been in my docs half written since JANUARY. I’m excited to finally share it with you, and anon who requested this, I hope you’re still around to see it! Thank you @punkrockmlchael for my banner ❤️

The first time you were mistaken for Steve’s girlfriend, you were in high school. It was a Friday night and the atmosphere in Hawkins was electric. The basketball team was about to play the championship game, and the whole school was crowded into the gym.

You dressed in a shirt you made with Steve’s number, 11, painted onto it, Harrington across the back. You used face paint to draw little 11s onto your cheeks. When you walked into the gym, Steve spotted you immediately, running up to you and wrapping you in a tight hug.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he said, a huge grin on his face. “Look at you, all school spirit-ed up!”

“Just for you,” you laughed. “Harrington’s #1 fan.”

Steve looked genuinely touched. He pulled you into another hug, holding you until his coach called for him.

“Harrington! We need you over here!”

Steve pulled back, hands on your shoulders as he smiled at you. “See you after the game. I better hear you in the crowd.” Then he turned and jogged back to where the rest of his team waited for him.

You were still smiling as you climbed the steps, finding a spot with a great view of the whole court. Carol and Tina gave you a strange look as you passed, but you ignored them.

The game started, and the crowd came alive. Your eyes were glued to Steve the whole time, watching as he expertly blocked the other team’s shots and made basket after basket. He was running the court, and you had never felt more proud.

The other team was not having a good time. One of their players in particular started getting rough with Steve, elbowing him and knocking him to the ground. You gasped, standing to get a better look, but he was fine. Jason offered him a hand and helped him up, and the ref called a foul.

Steve was awarded a free throw. He stood behind the free throw line, bouncing the ball a couple of times as he lined up his shot. He tossed the ball and it effortlessly flew through the air, swishing through the basket. He took his second free throw, once again sinking the ball in the basket. His teammates clapped him on the back as they got back to the game. Steve looked into the stands, spotting you immediately and giving you a smile and small wave that you happily returned.

The game was close. The clock ticked down the remainder of the fourth quarter, and the other team was just barely in the lead, 71 to 70. Steve got control of the ball, spinning around to face the net. The timer went on - 2 seconds, 1 second - and Steve took the shot. All of Hawkins held their breath as the ball flew through the air, seemingly in slow motion - and swished through the basket.

The crowd went wild. You stood, jumping up and down as you screamed your head off. The team surrounded Steve, lifting him high in the air as they chanted - “Harrington! Harrington! Harrington!”

You ran down the steps as fast as you could. Steve turned to you like you were the only person in the room, holding his arms out for you to run into. He scooped you up, twirling you around as you laid your head on his sweaty shoulder.

“That was incredible!” You exclaimed once he sat you down. “You were amazing out there!”

“Thank you,” he said, the huge grin plastered to his face. He was riding the high of the win, of being the star player of the Hawkins varsity basketball team. It was a well deserved pride.

Your moment was interrupted by Carol and Tina approaching. They gave you a look, eyes moving between you and Steve.

“So are you guys, like, dating now?” Carol asked, her tone bitchy as usual.

You opened your mouth to say no, you were just friends, but Steve beat you to it.

“Yeah, we are,” he said proudly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “We’ve been dating for a couple months now. She’s the best, isn’t she?”

You looked up at him in confusion, but decided to go along with it. “Oh, yeah,” you added. “Steve is just amazing. He’s the best boyfriend ever.”

Steve went on. “We’ve been best friends forever, you know, but I finally confessed my feelings and asked her out. I was terrified. But she said she felt the same, and the rest is history, as they say.” He chuckled. “Best thing I’ve ever done. She’s my dream girl.”

Carol and Tina both looked between you, their expressions judgmental as they chewed their bubblegum. “Well, good for you guys, I guess,” Carol said, before the two of them walked off.

When they were out of earshot, you turned to Steve, brows furrowed. “We’ve been dating for a couple months?” You questioned him, a laugh in your voice.

Steve shrugged, grinning. “Why not? It’s none of their business anyway.”

“You came up with a whole backstory.” You shook your head, laughing. “You’re ridiculous.”

Everyone at school thought you were dating after that, and neither of you ever corrected anyone. When prom season rolled around, Steve asked you to go - just as friends. You went shopping with Robin and found the perfect dress - dark purple, sleeveless and with a poofy skirt. It fell to just below your knees. It made you feel beautiful, you had been looking forward to prom your whole life, never having an excuse to dress up like this.

Your older sister, Lori, came over, excited to help you get ready. You sat on the bench of your vanity, talking and laughing with her as she curled your hair, then did your makeup. She did your eyeshadow first, a smokey eye that went well with your dress. She painted your lips with a nude color.

Steve picked you up that evening, knocking on your door and using his Harrington charm on your mom, who already loved him. She always told you that you and Steve should get married, and jokingly called him her son in law when he wasn’t around.

When you walked down the stairs and saw him, your heart skipped a beat. In reality you were just friends, of course, but he looked so handsome it nearly took your breath away. He was dressed in a black tux, a dark purple tie on to match your dress. He might have looked even better than you did, you thought.

“You look beautiful,” Steve said. He held a purple corsage in his hand, still in its clear box.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” You reached for the hall table and grabbed the matching purple boutonniere sitting on top.

Your mom took about a million photos as you pinned the boutonniere to Steve’s jacket and he slid the corsage onto your wrist. Then you were made to pose for another million photos. You didn’t entirely mind, and Steve sure didn’t - he was absolutely eating up the attention - but you were ready to get going when she was finally satisfied.

Steve held out his arm and you looped yours through his. Your parents and Lori watched you from the front door as you walked - and saw a limo sitting out front.

“Steve!” You gasped. “This is too much.”

“It’s not every day we go to prom,” he smiled. “I wanted to make it special.”

Steve held your hand as you climbed into the back of the limo, him right behind you. When the limo began moving, he reached into the mini fridge and pulled out a bottle of champagne, holding it up on display and raising his eyebrows. “Want a drink?”

“Uh, yes,” you said, like it was obvious - which it was. Steve grinned as he grabbed two champagne flutes and filled them with the bubbly liquid.

You laughed together as you drank on the way to school, and by the time you got there you were both pretty tipsy. It was going to be a fun night.

Steve helped you climb out from the limo, escorting you inside. You stopped to take a photo together where Jonathan was running the booth. As you walked into the auditorium, Time After Time was just beginning to play.

Steve held out his hand - “Dance with me?”

You didn’t have to be asked twice. You took his hand and he led you to the dance floor, his hands sliding to your waist as your arms went around his neck and he held you close. You slow danced with your best friend, worried he could feel your heart beating against his own chest. The way he looked at you sent butterflies flying in your stomach. You almost thought he might kiss you.

But that would be silly, wouldn’t it?

After high school, you and Steve both got jobs at Scoops Ahoy. The uniforms were stupid and the job was mundane, but at least you got to work with your best friend. And Steve was pretty cute in the sailor outfit.

“I didn’t even know there were this many ice cream flavors in existence,” Steve said on your first day, looking down at the freezer in wonder. “It’s like…ice cream wonderland.”

You snorted. “Do you want some ice cream, Stevie?”

He looked at you, eyebrows raised. “Uh, yeah, I do. You’re telling me you’re not excited by free ice cream?”

“I guess it’s one perk of this shitty job.” You grabbed two of the sample spoons. “What flavor?”

Steve examined the freezer again. “Rocky Road.”

“Chocolate chip cookie dough for me,” you said, opening the glass door and scooping one of each flavor. You handed the spoon to Steve, who ate it right away.

Steve watched you as you ate the ice cream off the spoon, making you blush. You licked the delicious treat off the spoon, him watching you intently the whole time. “What?”

“Nothing,” Steve said, shaking his head as he turned back to the cash register, acting like he was doing something very important as his shorts suddenly felt uncomfortably tight, the skin of his neck heating in a blush.

The two of you goofed around until the mall opened, then it was a steady stream of customers ready to cool down from the summer heat. It kept you busy, but some of the customers liked to talk.

“You’re such a beautiful girl,” one older lady commented one day as you scooped her mint chocolate chip. “Is that handsome young man your boyfriend?”

You started to laugh, “Oh, he’s-“

But Steve interrupted, putting his arm around you. Your heartbeat sped up, beating hard in your chest, although you didn’t know why. “Yeah, we’ve been dating for years. High school sweethearts. It was our dream to open this ice cream shop together. Now it’s finally come true, hasn’t it sweetheart?”

You looked at him. “That’s right babe. I’m just happy to be on this adventure, setting sail on the ocean of flavor, with you.”

Steve kissed you on the temple before he beamed back at the woman, who seemed to believe you as she took her ice cream, smiling at you both. “How cute. That’s wonderful. You remind me of me and my husband at your age.”

When she left, you and Steve busted out laughing. “Nice job, sweetheart,” he laughed.

“You’ve got to stop telling people we’re together,” you shook your head with a smile.

“Why? It’s fun.” Steve lifted his sailor hat to run a hand through his immaculate hair. You couldn’t help but notice his new sneakers he got to match his uniform. He would do something like that.

Steve was in the back when a group of familiar kids walked in. Before they could even ask, you turned. “Stevie, your kids are here!”

Steve came around the corner, hands on his hips. “Really? Again?”

“It’s Day of the Dead,” Dustin reasoned. “We can’t get in and we aren’t missing it.”

You wandered to the back, leaving Steve to deal with the group of kids using him to sneak into an R rated movie. You decided it was the perfect time to take your break, sitting at the table and grabbing your book from your bag, flipping to where you left off.

Out front, Dustin gave Steve a smirk. “So, that’s her?”

Steve’s head twisted around in a panic to make sure you were out of earshot. When he turned back to the kids, his expression was irritated. “Dude.”

“She’s pretty,” Mike commented. “I see why you’re so obsessed.”

“I am not-“ Steve looked around again before leaning closer onto the counter. “I am not obsessed.”

“Yeah, okay, man,” Lucas said, telling Steve he didn’t believe him for a second.

“You never shut up about her,” Max contributed. “We’re not dumb. It’s obvious you’re in loooove.”

Steve blushed furiously, looking down to hide the redness of his cheeks. “I am not…you know what, don’t you have a movie to catch?”

He quickly led them through the back, not giving a single one of them the opportunity to speak to you. He didn’t trust them one bit. He opened the door to the back hall and the kids all filed out, making kissy noises at him as they left.

Because Steve definitely wasn’t in love with you. You were just his best friend. Nothing more. He swears.

Your sister Lori had a baby girl 6 months after you graduated high school. She named her Annie, and she was really a perfect baby. Always so calm and well behaved, and she loved spending time with you and Steve.

You were basically volunteered for babysitting duty whenever it was needed, but you didn’t mind. You always loved kids, and you loved your sister and your niece. It was fun to play house for the day, go out in public and pretend you were a mom. It was especially fun when Steve tagged along, because, well, he made everything more fun.

When Annie was 1 year old, your sister left you in charge while she and her husband went to Indianapolis for the day. You and Steve decided to have a fun day and take her out to the children’s museum. She had just gotten walking down and always wanted to be independent now.

It took Steve an annoyingly long time to find a parking spot and it was making Annie fussy, so when he finally did, you were all relieved.

“Way too fuckin’ busy for a Tuesday,” Steve grumbled as he killed the car engine and started unbuckling his seat belt. You grabbed Annie from the back and got her buckled in her stroller, which Steve pushed to the front door. He bought three tickets from the counter and you all headed inside, Annie looking at the surrounding ocean exhibit with wide eyed wonder.

Steve was amazing with kids. It always made you feel warm and fuzzy inside to see him interact with them, and the way he played with your niece was no exception. He sat her on his shoulders as he walked through the museum, giving her the best view of anything she could want to see.

When you reached the mini grocery store setup, Steve sat the wiggling toddler down and she grabbed his hand, leading him through the fake store. She added all kinds of pretend food to her mini shopping cart, and when she was done, Steve manned the cash register and scanned her purchases.

“Having a cookout this weekend?” Steve asked as he scanned a pretend pack of hot dogs. “Beautiful weather for it.” When she was done, she walked off with her cart. Steve stopped her - “Ma’am! Your change!”

In the playground area, Annie found some toddlers her age and began playing with the blocks with them. You and Steve took a much needed break as you sat together on a bench with Annie in full view.

“Long day,” Steve sighed, stretching his arms above his head. His shirt rode up the slightest bit, revealing a tiny bit of skin. Your eyes went right to it.

“Yeah,” you agreed when you wiped the drool off your chin. “You having fun though?”

“‘Course,” Steve smiled at you. “I love hanging out with my girls.”

His girls. The sentence made you feel giddy, like you weren’t just babysitting your niece and maybe had an actual family with Steve. A wedding ring, an adorable brown haired hazel eyed child. You let yourself entertain the thought.

The couple sat on the bench next to you turned your way, the woman giving you a friendly smile. “Is she yours?” She asked, pointing to Annie.

“Oh, yeah,” you answered. Steve leaned around you to look at the couple. “Her name is Annie.”

“She’s adorable,” the woman said. “That’s mine, Oliver.” She pointed to the little boy handing Annie a block. “Sorry if it’s rude to ask, but how old are you two?”

“We’re nineteen,” Steve answered for you. “Just graduated from Hawkins High a year ago.”

“That’s where we met,” the woman said, smiling at her husband before turning back to you. “You’re so young. I don’t know how you do it.”

“Well,” you began, looking at Steve. “It’s definitely hard, but we always knew we wanted kids. Especially Steve.” You leaned on his shoulder, smiling at the couple like you were head over heels in love. “So we got an early start.”

“I’m 30 and I still feel like I don’t know what I’m doing sometimes,” she laughed. “You two are doing great. You have a beautiful family.”

The comment made your heart soar, as if you hadn’t just completely lied to this woman and it wasn’t all pretend. You squeezed Steve’s hand, and he returned it.

When Annie started fussing and rubbing her eyes, you knew it was time to get her home for a nap. You just hoped the day’s excursion had worn her out enough to lay down without a fuss and take a good one. You put her back in her stroller, and Steve pushed it as you left the building.

“So I have to stop making up stories about us being together?” Steve whispered, teasing you for your earlier words.

You blushed. “It was just the perfect opportunity. She totally assumed we were together and Annie was ours.”

“She did,” Steve agreed. “But you surprised me, I didn’t think you’d go for it. I mean, I would have if you didn’t, but still.”

You burst into laughter. “I knew you were thinking it!”

Steve laughed, too. He shook his head, brown locks brushing against the collar of his shirt. “Of course I was thinking it.”

Annie was passed out by the time you got her back into her car seat. Steve was such a natural with her, it made your heart flutter in your chest. You thought about what it might be like if you were together, if Steve was really your boyfriend - or husband - and you had a child together. You knew he would be the best dad in the world. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind.

He played the radio quietly as you drove back home. Neither of you spoke, not wanting to wake Annie. She probably wouldn’t nap once you got home, so you wanted her to get as much rest as possible. But every now and then Steve would turn to you, giving you a soft smile that made your stomach do flips.

When he dropped you off, he helped you carry the sleeping baby inside. Your sister held her hand over her chest as she watched Steve with Annie, shooting you a knowing look behind his back that had you blushing.

“Thank you for taking her,” she told you both. She kept shooting you glances that were far too obvious for your comfort.

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Steve said, usual charming smile on his face. “We had a good time.”

“Yeah?” Lori asked, smiling between you two like an idiot. You gave her a look that said please stop.

“Yes,” you answered for the both of you. You pushed Steve through the house and to your bedroom as he laughed.

“I like your sister,” Steve said, laughing. “I don’t know why you’re always trying to get away from her.”

“She’s embarrassing,” you muttered.

“She’s nice,” Steve said.

Yeah, when she isn’t trying to embarrass you in front of your friend. You shook your head. “You don’t get it. You don’t have any siblings.”

Steve kind of deflated at that, and you instantly felt bad. You knew Steve’s family was a touchy subject. His parents were pretty emotionally neglectful, never around, hardly cared what Steve did as long as he showed up to school and didn’t get himself killed. But he was lonely, and always had been. He’d wished for a sibling for as long as he could remember.

You put a hand on his shoulder. “You can have her, if you want.”

That got a smile out of Steve. He nudged your forehead with his own. “Nah. I’d rather just spend time with you.”

“You’re coming tonight, right?” Eddie asked excitedly, practically bouncing up and down as he cornered you, Steve, and Robin at Family Video.

“It is Tuesday,” you said, closing up a VHS box and giving Eddie a smile. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Ed.”

Eddie was beaming as he turned to Steve and Robin expectantly. Steve had been leaning against the counter on one arm, watching you and Robin. With Eddie’s waiting gaze on him, Steve looked between you and him. “Well, I don’t go anywhere without her, so. Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“We’ll all be there,” Robin said. “Calm down.”

Eddie was practically bouncing off the walls. This was a big show for Corroded Coffin - not the typical Tuesday night crowd with five drunks. The rumor was someone from a label was supposed to be there. Eddie had been demanding you all come for moral support - and to make the crowd look at least a little bit better.

That night, you dug through your closet looking for something metal concert-appropriate. You didn’t have much to choose from. You ultimately decided on a black top that tied in the front and a tiny little matching skirt. Some tall lace up boots and tights pulled the look together.

When you walked outside to Steve’s car, you could see his eyes widen through the window. You had to pull your skirt down as you got in to keep from flashing him.

“Jesus,” Steve practically choked out. “You look-“

“Ridiculous?” you filled in for him. “Yeah, I know.”

“That…is not what I was going to say.” Steve shook his head, blowing out a long breath of air as he backed out of the driveway.

You picked up Robin next, who slid into the backseat behind you. Both Steve and Robin were dressed in their normal wardrobe - you felt kind of like a total fucking idiot. This wasn’t you.

You didn’t notice the way Steve kept looking at you, letting his gaze linger way longer than he knew he should’ve. Robin noticed.

At the Hideout, Steve put a hand on your lower back and led you into the crowded bar. It was packed for a Tuesday. Steve left you and Robin in a booth and took to the bar with his fake ID.

When he came back, he had three beers held in his hands. He placed them down in front of each of you and slid into the booth on your side.

There were a few opening acts before Corroded Coffin - no one particularly interesting. You were barely listening to the music at all as you chatted with Robin and Steve, laughing harder and harder the more drinks you got in your system.

When Eddie came onstage, the three of you cheered louder than anyone. He caught your eyes in the crowd immediately, smiling and waving back. The band started playing, and you nodded along to the music.

“I need another drink,” you said, hinting that Steve should get up to let you out.

“I’ll go get it for you,” he said, standing.

“No, I need to stretch my legs,” you said. You had forgotten just how tiny your skirt was until you stood and could feel the breeze on your upper thighs. “We can go together.”

Steve nodded, leading you through the crowd. You may not have noticed, but Steve didn’t miss the way every guy in the bar was looking at you, letting their eyes freely drop to your barely-covered ass. Steve shot dirty looks to all of them, staying close behind with his hands on you at all times.

You made it to the bar, leaning against it. It was packed, the bartender all the way at the other end. “This is gonna take forever,” you groaned.

“Wait here,” Steve said. “I’ll go catch him down there. Another beer?”

“And some shots,” you smirked, which Steve returned. You watched him go, disappearing into the crowd of people.

“That your boyfriend?”

You turned around, startled. A large man stood behind you, not entirely unfriendly looking, but you knew better than to trust strange men in bars. “What?”

“Was that your boyfriend?” the man asked, gesturing towards Steve. You looked back at him at the bar before turning back to the man.

“Yes,” you said on instinct.

The man looked like he didn’t quite believe you, like maybe you were just trying to get rid of him (you were). “How long you been together?”

“5 years,” you said easily, thinking of the day you and Steve had become official best friends. “High school sweethearts.”

“Oh yeah?” the man said, his little interest waning.

“Yeah,” you said. “Actually, he stole me from that guy up there.” You gestured up to where Eddie was going crazy on stage, and the man’s eyes widened. “We were together for a little while. But Steve? He’s the real rocker, if you know what I mean.”

The man looked thoroughly uncomfortable at this point. The sight of Steve coming back over from over your shoulder was enough of a push for him to get out of this interaction. “Have a good rest of your night.”

“The real rocker, huh?” Steve asked with a smirk, sliding up next to you and handing you a shot. He carried both your beers in his one hand. You tilted your head back and swallowed the shot with ease. “What was that about?”

“Nothing,” you said. “I think he was gonna hit on me. Asked if you were my boyfriend.”

“And you said yes?” Steve asked teasingly.

“Well, yeah. I didn’t want to deal with that.”

“Nice story,” Steve said, and you blushed, realizing he had probably overheard more than you thought. “I’m the real rocker?” he repeated, like he had really gotten a kick out of that.

You shrugged. “It made him uncomfortable. I thought it was funny.” You took a second shot.

Steve looked at you - really looked at you. His eyes slowly trailed over your body, your outfit, taking in every inch of skin exposed by the tiny material. His heart thudded harder, harder in his chest. He opened his mouth to say something he’d probably regret when Robin came up between you, grabbing your arm.

“You guys took forever,” she said. “Now I need a drink.”

It had been a few years since graduation when Richard Harrington decided he was done torturing his son and gave him a job at his insurance company.

Steve’s first real Big Boy Job. A job where he had to dress in business casual, get up early to style his hair and iron his shirts. He did well there, rising up the ladder faster than expected - you knew it was on Steve’s own merit because his dad wasn’t exactly the charitable type.

You were a junior in college, studying education. Dean’s list, soaring grades, on track to be class valedictorian. Things were going well.

“Do you want to come with me to the company Christmas party?” Steve asked one evening as you were lounging at your apartment. He was still in his work clothes, button up shirt undone with his sleeves pushed up to his elbows. He’d come over right after he got off. Most days, all he wanted to do when he got off work was hang out with you.

“You want me to go?” you asked, sitting your mug of hot chocolate on the coffee table.

“Yeah, of course,” Steve said, like it was obvious. “I mean, it’s probably gonna be lame, but if you’re there-“

“I’ll go,” you said. “Do I need to dress up?”

“Uh…yeah. Probably,” Steve said.

“It’s fun to have an excuse to dress up sometimes,” you mused.

You couldn’t find anything in your closet you actually liked that fit the vibe of Steve’s fancy annual company Christmas party - so you dragged Robin and Lori out shopping with you. Lori was having fun, at least.

“How many dresses are you gonna try on?” Robin whined, running her hand absentmindedly through the rack of clothes. “I feel like you’ve tried on everything in the store.”

“I just haven’t found the right dress yet,” you mumbled as you examined a little black number on the rack. For some reason, this had to be perfect. You had to look perfect. It was important to you.

“You’ll find it,” Lori said. “It’s in here. I can feel it.”

It was an hour later, and Robin was dragging her feet. You were starting to feel bad - maybe you shouldn’t have brought her, but you missed her since you no longer worked together. You didn’t get to see each other as often.

“Oh my god,” Lori said, slowly pulling a hanger down. “This…”

You turned and saw your sister holding a glittering short red dress. It was stunning. It fit the Christmas/winter wonderland vibe perfectly. You took it from her, the material softer against your skin than you expected.

“Go try it on,” Lori encouraged.

You went into the changing room for what felt like the millionth time and shed your familiar clothes. You took the dress off the hanger, the fabric cascading across your skin like water. It was easy to put on, too.

You stepped out of the dressing room, and Lori gasped.

“Oh, finally,” Robin said.

Turning to look in the mirror against the wall, seeing yourself in the dress for the first time - it took your breath away. You had never felt particularly confident in yourself, but if anything was going to give you unbeatable confidence, it was this dress.

“You look so hot,” Lori said.

“Agreed,” Robin added. “This is the one. And I’m not just saying that because I wanted to get out of here 6 dresses ago.”

That night you dressed in your new gown. The hem went right to mid thigh, showing off your legs in a very sexy way. It showed off your cleavage just enough without it being too revealing for a company Christmas party.

You knew Steve was just your best friend, but you were about to knock him dead.

He picked you up right on time, the knock on the door coming at 6 on the dot. You opened your apartment door to the sight of Steve dressed in navy pants with a white and grey button up and matching suit jacket - a red tie around his neck that somehow matched your dress perfectly. He wore his glasses, which he hardly ever did.

He had been standing there in his normal bored kinda way, leaning against the door frame as he waited for you to answer like he had much more interesting things to do. But once you opened the door and he saw you, he practically choked, standing up straight and nearly tripping over his own feet.

“Wow,” he finally managed to get out. “You- you look incredible.”

“Looking handsome yourself,” you smiled playfully, grabbing your black clutch from the hall table. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, ready,” he said, still distracted. Even with his mind reeling and actively trying not to look too hard at your body, he led you to the car with his hand on your back, opening the door for you and holding your hand as you sat down.

“Is this a date, Harrington?” you teased him as he got into the driver’s seat of his new car. “This feels kinda like a date.”

Steve laughed lightly. “Just trying to be a gentleman.” He thought for a second. “I guess you could be considered my date for the night. By some people.”

“Our first date,” you cooed playfully. “Cute.”

At the office building, Steve parked in his designated spot - close to the front. He helped you out and escorted you inside with you hanging onto his arm. You stepped on the elevator and Steve pressed the button for the 15th floor.

The doors closed, and you and Steve were left in the quiet, the only sound the rumbling of the ascending metal box.

Steve cleared his throat. He looked like he was trying to look anywhere but at you. It was starting to make you feel a little bad. “Do you not like my dress?” you asked softly, your earlier confidence being left behind in the ground floor lobby. “Are you embarrassed?”

“No!” Steve said quickly, almost a little too loud. “No, that’s not- I like it. I really like it. You look stunning. Actually…” he thought for a second. “Stunning,” he said again. “You’re gonna be the hottest chick there.”

You laughed, feeling a little better. You just couldn’t understand why Steve was being so weird.

On the top floor, it was much louder. Muffled Christmas music traveled down the bright white hall, and Steve led you down, opening the door for you.

A party had been set up inside, not huge, but pretty big. Lots of guys in suits dressed similarly to Steve, mingling with drinks in their hands and beautiful women on their sides. You were sure most of these women had rings on their fingers, however. Big, flashy rocks.

Steve was quickly wrapped up in a whirlwind of conversations with his colleagues. You were each handed a champagne flute that you sipped on while you listened to Steve talk about things you didn’t understand while smiling and laughing at the appropriate times.

But Steve kept his hands on you. If you weren’t holding onto his arm, his left arm was around your waist, or his hand on the small of your back. And you couldn’t help but notice how handsome and grown he looked. Steve never wore his glasses, but all of a sudden you wished he would more often.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom,” you whispered to Steve just as he got waved over by another man.

He looked down at you. “Do you want me to take you? They’re just over there, but-“

“No, I’m okay,” you smiled. “Keep mingling. I’ll be right back.”

Steve watched you leave, the sway of your hips in the fabric of that dress near hypnotizing. When you were out of sight, he turned and walked over to Tom, the guy who had been calling him over.

“Hey, man,” Tom greeted, clapping Steve on the back. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Yeah, having a pretty good time,” Steve answered with a friendly smile.

“Was that your girl?” Tom asked, nodding in the direction you’d gone. And Steve wasn’t going to play the game tonight - he really wasn’t - but then Tom said, “Because I’ve been watching her all night, and she’s hot as hell. I was going to ask for her number if she’s just a friend. Or maybe you could set a guy up?” He waggled his eyebrows at Steve mischievously, and Steve felt like he could’ve punched the guy.

“She’s my girlfriend,” Steve said. He told Tom your name - and it had never felt quite so right rolling off his tongue.

“Lucky bastard,” Tom teased. “I hope you appreciate what you’ve got. Because that girl is-“

“Yeah, I get it,” Steve said, politely cutting him short. “I’m a lucky guy, believe me I know it.”

“How’d you two meet?”

“High school,” Steve answered easily. “She was, uh…she was my assigned math tutor.” He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck as he recounted the memory. “Brought me from a D to an A in that class. I’d never learned so much in my life.”

“If my math teacher looked like that…”

Steve smiled, as if he was lost down memory lane. “We became best friends after that. Literally inseparable since. I haven’t gone a day without her in 10 years.”

“That’s sweet man, really,” Tom said, more genuine this time. “I’m happy for you. You deserve a nice girl. Just don’t be an idiot - don’t let her go.”

Don’t let her go.

The words rang around in Steve’s ears for the rest of the night. Even when you returned, back by his side while he made the rounds - he couldn’t stop thinking about what Tom had said. Don’t let her go. Don’t let her go.

Steve hadn’t realized how he felt about you until it slapped him in the face in that exact moment - out of nowhere, it nearly knocked him off his feet. He looked down at you, smiling and laughing as you sipped on your champagne and talked with his boss’s wife - and it nearly took his breath away.

How had he been so stupid all these years?

Sure, there had been times he was unbearably attracted to you - but he was only a man, and you usually happened to be wearing something unreasonably sexy when it happened. Like now.

But there was more. It was the way his heart clenched when you laughed. The way you made him smile like no one else. They way you made him laugh, kept up with his sense of humor, never made him feel stupid or less than. You befriended everyone - there wasn’t a cruel bone in your body. Friend of everyone, yet you never let anything get in the way of your friendship with Steve. You were his best friend.

And he loved you.

He had to get out of there.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked you, mid conversation.

You looked up at him, surprised. “What?”

“I think I’m ready to go,” he said. “I just think…I need to get out of here. Get some fresh air.”

You looked at him with your eyebrows drawn together in concern. “Okay. We can go.”

Grateful you didn’t put up a fight while Steve felt like he was losing his mind, he told everyone a quick goodbye and led you back to the elevator. The ride down was silent, and significantly more awkward. Steve couldn’t wait to be out.

The elevator dinged as it stopped at the lobby once more, and Steve speed walked off. You were running as fast as you could in your heels, trying to keep up. “Steve, wait up! Where are you going?”

He was outside now, the cold air whipping through his hair and making his nose burn. He knew you had to be freezing in that tiny little dress. He had made it to the large fountain in the courtyard when he turned abruptly, nearly making you knock onto his chest.

“Jesus,” you said, stopping. “What are you doing, Stevie? What happened in there? Are you okay?”

Steve didn’t answer any of your questions because he didn’t know how to. Instead, he took his suit jacket off and handed it to you. “Here. You’re probably cold.”

You looked at him strangely. But you were cold, so you took the jacket and slipped it over your shoulders. “Thanks.”

It was silent besides the running water sounds of the fountain. You and Steve just looked at each other, the only ones outside at this time of night. The party was still in full swing upstairs. You just stared each other down, both of you waiting on someone - the other or yourselves - to make the first move.

Steve finally took a step closer to you. He said your name, so gently it floated across to you on the breeze.

“What’s going on with you?” you asked. “I thought we were having a good time, and-“

“I’m in love with you.”

Your eyes went wide and you reeled back as if you’d been struck. “What?”

“You heard me.” Steve took another step. “I’m in love with you. I’m fucking in love with you. And I don’t think I can pretend I’m not anymore.”

You were in complete shock. The sounds of the rushing water filled your ears once again, and you gaped at Steve like a fish as you tried to come up with something to say. It felt like your brain had just completely short circuited.

Steve began to look defeated. His head dropped and he held intense eye contact with his loafers. “I…I just had to tell you. I’m sorry.”

More rushing water. Then - “Why are you sorry?”

“Because I think I just ruined the friendship,” he said. “I think I just ruined our fucking friendship.”

“No,” you said immediately. It was your turn to take a step closer. “You didn’t.”

Steve slowly looked up at you, taking his time meeting your eyes as if he were afraid. You’d never seen Steve afraid. “I didn’t?”

“No,” you said. “Because I…I love you too. I’m in love with you too.”

You just stared at each other. That damn fountain carrying the whole atmosphere. Steve took another step, and he was standing so close to you you could smell his cologne and aftershave. His head was tilted down, looking into your eyes like he was reading you from the inside out. “You love me?”

It took you a minute to get your bearings. Your heart was pounding now, and you felt like your body was filled with bubbles from the champagne. Light, bubbly, like you could float away or maybe just pop out of existence. You nodded shakily. “Yeah. I…I love you.”

Steve’s forehead came down to gently rest against your own. Then he slowly raised his arm - his hand finding its spot on the side of your neck, cradling your jaw. “You’re beautiful,” he said, his voice so low you could barely hear him. “And I’m in love with you. So, so in love with you. Think I always have been.”

“Steve…”

He shook his head just barely. “Just let me…”

He leaned in those last couple of inches, and then Steve’s lips were pressed against yours.

When people talk about sparks flying during a kiss, you’d never believed them. It had certainly never happened to you, and you’d kissed plenty of people. But you had never kissed Steve.

He moved his lips against yours so softly and slowly. Like he wanted to feel and savor every second of the kiss, didn’t want to rush. He was hungry for it, but he could take his time. Your hands came to sit on his biceps as his free hand rested on your waist.

It felt so right. It didn’t feel like a first kiss - there was no awkwardness, nothing uncomfortable, just pure passion and love and desire. Steve was a good kisser, too. His tongue traced your lip and you opened for him, his tongue just barely brushing against yours.

Steve let out the slightest breathy moan, like he had finally gotten something he’d been longing for for so long. Your knees wobbled and his grip tightened on your hip, pulling your body closer into his.

“Don’t go fallin’ for me too hard, now,” Steve smirked, his voice so low and deep it gave you chills even though he was being his normal cheesy self.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Harrington,” you said, still breathless from the kiss. Steve only smiled bigger.

He kissed you again, shorter this time. A couple soft pecks against your lips, then a longer press, like he didn’t want to stop. “Be my girlfriend.”

“Are you serious?” you laughed. “How much champagne did you have?”

“Hardly any,” he said, “and I’m dead serious. Did you not just hear me tell you I love you?”

“You meant that?” you whispered.

“‘Course I did,” he whispered back, nudging your nose with his own. “I want you. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you. All those shitty dates…my failed love life…” Steve laughed lightly. “And you were right here in front of me the whole time.”

Your expression softened, looking up at Steve with eyes that were somehow glittering in the night. Steve’s breath hitched in his throat - you were quite literally breathtaking.

“Yeah,” you said. “I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Steve’s smile grew. His only reaction was to pull you in again, wrapping his arms around your body as yours went around his neck and he kissed you nice and slow again with all the love in the world, beneath the December stars.

“Can you help me with the potato salad?” Lori asked, already three dishes in her arms and Annie clung to her leg.

“Yeah, of course,” you said, jumping into action. You grabbed the bowl of potato salad along with the ice bucket and followed Lori out into the backyard.

The sun was shining, a perfect Memorial Day. The cousins were splashing in the pool, the older relatives talking as they sat in the warm sun with smiles on their faces and beers or lemonades in their hands. You and Lori put the dishes down on the buffet table. Lori was dressed in a one piece swimsuit with a sheer coverup on top, while you were in your red bikini top with short jean shorts over the bottoms.

“Finally,” Lori said. “I didn’t think the food was ever gonna get done.” She turned to you, hands on her hips as she caught her breath. There had been a lot of running around, and she was five months pregnant. “Thanks for your help.”

“Of course,” you said. “I couldn’t leave you to fend for yourself with the aunts.” Family had come from all over the surrounding states for this Memorial Day reunion, and it was…a lot.

Lori let out a groan. “Thank god for you.”

You squealed as arms wrapped themselves around your body and lifted you into the air. Lori just watched on with a knowing yet amused smile.

“Steve!” you scolded once he’d set you down. You slapped at his arm lightly.

“What?” he said. “I missed you.”

“It’s been like 20 minutes!”

“Tell me about it,” he said, pulling your body into his and kissing you.

“Get a room,” Lori teased, although she was still smiling as she turned and walked away.

“Are you enjoying the party?” you asked Steve as he picked up a deviled egg and popped it into his mouth.

“Yeah,” he said. He chewed and swallowed. “Your family is nice.”

“You weren’t scared to meet the whole family after only 5 months of dating?” You smiled, your hand running over his bare chest.

“‘Course not,” Steve said. “I’ve already been part of the family for years. The extended family didn’t scare me.”

You loved that about Steve. He was so confident and sure of himself. One of endless things you loved about him.

You heard a voice calling your name. Your grandma was approaching, her paper plate piled high with potluck food. “Is this your boyfriend I’ve heard so much about?” she asked with a sly smile as she reached the two of you.

You smiled, looking up at Steve. He beamed back down at you like he’d never been happier in his life, his hand gently rubbing your lower back. “Yeah,” you said. “He is.”

“Hi,” Steve offered her his hand. “Steve. Nice to meet you.”

“He’s a cute one,” she whispered to you, but Steve definitely heard. You were sure he didn’t need the ego boost. “Don’t let him go.”

You leaned your head against Steve’s shoulder, and he squeezed your hip.

Yeah. You didn’t plan on it.

tag list

@robinbuckleywife @fandom-princess-forevermore @ali-r3n @playboysweetie @losingmygrasponreality @samslvrgirl @ratsematary @cheesesandwichsanto @strangerthing93 @hannahmassey30 @xplrnowornever @virgoprada @thestrals-and-firewiskey @badasspizzalover @charmed-asylum @fearlessreid @shmeddieshmunson @ahead-fullofdreams @crybabyddl @queen-honeybee-stories @batbabyeddie @meankenna @4everdweeb @nightfirecomit @borhapgirlforlife19 @meetmeatyourworst @kthomps914 @your-nightmaredoll @micheledawn1975

if you’re on the list but not tagged here it’s because it wouldn’t let me :(

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dorkszn · 1 year ago

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𝓕𝓡𝓔𝓐𝓚𝓨 𝓞𝓝 𝓒𝓐𝓜𝓔𝓡𝓐

𝓋ℴ𝓁. six / 𝒾𝓈𝓈𝓊ℯ. steve harrington, billy hargrove, jonathan byers

twitter p links ! / male & female reader ! / vol. seven !

STEVE HARRINGTON

01. in the break room of family video ( male reader )

02. fucking one of the “freaks” in an empty classroom ( fem reader )

03. taking you in his car during lunch ( fem reader )

04. he wants to get as deep as possible ( male reader )

BILLY HARGROVE

01. he thinks you moaning and crying his name while your knees are pressed to your chest is the best thing ever ( male reader )

02. passenger princess ( fem reader )

03. him fucking you soft for a change ( male reader )

04. he wonders how many orgasm he can pull from you in one night ( fem reader )

bonus. this video is just billy vibes

JONATHAN BYERS

01. everybody assumes you’re the top and jonathan bottoms. but both of you know that isn’t right. ( male reader )

02. riding him right after you wake up ( male reader )

03. letting you use him ( fem reader )

04. he’s been thinking about you nonstop ( fem reader )

my first multi-character vers!! 😛 jason, eddie, and hopper next? do we want a girls vers? also i did this in like under an hour, motivation and energy were present 🙏🏽 can y’all tell im in my stranger things era again?

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iheartdoll · 1 year ago

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Audio Recommendations 12

You find the dorky guy now in college is he got hotter (kinda giving Eddie)

"Honey, stay in school" (Age play)

Your selfish husband abandons you during your vacation so you have a threesome (MF4F)

"Both? Both is good" (there's one VERY deep voice, but the story is good and does the job) (MM4F)

Catching a ride with a masc (fuckgirl) lesbian

"Make you mine"

A 50 year old divorcee goes on a blind date (HOPPER)

Begging for mommy (overstimulation on M) (STEVE)

Exhausted overstimulation (can't you tell I like men moaning?) (STEVE TOO)

Nipple stimulation on your boyfriend (imagine Eddie getting his nipples pierced)

Just 2 friends playing smash

Hot best friend gives you what you always wanted

Morning sex (very intimate)

Sleepy sex

Cute boyfriend turns dom and goes hard on you

Face fucking (Eddie is so into this)

Corrumpting your priest, he loses control

part 12 is here with some help from you guys (always thankful when you send me audios to share with everybody)

MASTERLIST

#steve harrington #strangerthings #audiorecs #soundgasm #eddie munson #stranger things smut #steve harrington smut #smut #audiorecommendations #robin buckley #steve harrington x female reader smut #stranger things imagine #stranger things #nancy wheeler smut #robin buckley smut #eddie munson smut #joe keery smut

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the-witty-pen-name · 7 months ago

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The Love Triangle from Hell (1)

Steve Harrington x F!Reader / Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Synopsis: Nancy is with Jonathan; Steve is still in love with Nancy; You're in love with Steve; Eddie's in love with you; Robin just wanted to have a movie night but everyone is making it weird.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: messy messy feelings; unrequited love; cursing; arguments; crying; angst angst angsty angst; drinking; Robin literally just trying to live her life but her friends are all idiots

A/N: I'm going to let y'all decide who our reader ends up with for this one- please let me know who you think our reader should pick! I think this will be another 5 part series. Please let me know what you think! Comments and reblogs and hitting up my asks are always so so so appreciated.

This series with be 18+ in later chapters MINORS DNI

It was always Nancy. No matter what it always came back to Nancy. It happened over and over and over like a broken record. Like a glutton for punishment, you always went back for more thinking to yourself this time it’s going to be different. Squished on the lumpy loveseat with Robin, you watch Steve as he watches Nancy. You were pathetic and you knew it. Hopelessly in love with someone who’d never in a million years look at you the way he’s looking at her.

Eddie sits on the floor between your legs with his back rested against the front of the couch as you aimlessly braid his hair. You run your fingers through his hair, carefully navigating through the tangles. You pull strains and weave them together without needing to think about it- you’ve done it a million times before. Eddie would let you do whatever you wanted, he loved the feeling of your hands in his hair. He’d lean his head back as far as he could manage, and shoot you an upside down smile. It always made you giggle before you would use your palm to gently put his head back into place.

It was quite a sight for Robin, like the most fucked daytime drama never written, if she knew how to read the room and pick up on the very obvious clues before her. Steve, her platonic soulmate and best friend, pining over his ex-girlfriend while you, her other best friend, pine over Steve and all the while Eddie, Steve’s roommate and your other best friend, pines over you. It was enough to make her sick. All the while, Nancy is completely oblivious as she checks her watch, waiting expectantly for Jonathan- her actual boyfriend- to arrive. Despite the mess before her, Robin was none the wiser.

She knew Steve was still hung up on Nancy, because he never shut up about her during their shifts. However, you felt you kept your lovesick crush on Steve under pretty good wraps. Unfortunately, Eddie was so preoccupied with you that he felt it every time your eyes were on Steve or he’d witnessed all the small things you’d do that convinced him you actually liked Steve.

He’d watch as you couldn’t make eye contact with Steve, looking everywhere but him when he spoke. He’d watch the way you’d steal glances at him when you thought no one else was looking. He’d see the way you’d take a deep breath to compose yourself when you’d see Steve looking at Nancy. The same way you’d break your own heart looking around for Steve, he’d be doing the same looking at you watching him.

You’d watched one too many movies where the guy realizes the right girl all along was his best friend. You thought if you were patient, Steve would realize he’d been in love with you the whole time and he never realized it. If you’re there for him in his times of heartbreak, he’d see that you’re so much better for him than anyone else. He’d see you, really see you, and know you were the one who was always there.

“This movie doesn’t make any sense,” Robin said suddenly before reaching for the bowl of popcorn at the coffee table.

“Anthony Michael Hall is making a robot girlfriend because he can’t get girls,” Steve explains, coming off a little perturbed that Robin was talking during the movie again.

“They could’ve just asked out a couple of more girls- they didn’t need to let their end all be all be two girls with boyfriends,” she continues and Steve scoffs. He couldn’t believe he was really about to have a debate on realism with Robin right now over fucking Weird Science.

“This’ll actually happen one day,” Eddie muses and is met with four heads whipping around to give him the same weird look. “You’re telling me that like fifty years from now, no one will have this figured out? AV geeks are desperate enough- Ow!” You’d hit him playfully on the back of the head.

“You’re not one to criticize anyone for being desperate, Munson,” Steve chuckles and Eddie promptly flips him off. “You don’t exactly have them lining up for you either.”

“It’s been a pretty dry few years yourself King Steve,” Eddie mocks, and you see Steve crack his knuckles nervously, hating the conversation going down this road. No one meant for it to happen, but now you’re all wrapped up reflecting in your own loneliness that the mood of the evening was almost completely dampened.

“Can you guys be quiet,” Nancy chastises, “Some of us are trying to actually watch the movie.”

“You cannot be serious?” Robin giggles, “It’s a stupid movie, Nance.”

The night took a weird shift. Jonathan did eventually stroll in and Nancy was understandably hurt that he was so late. He pulled a kitchen chair over to sit next to where Nancy sat but she promptly decided to ignore him, silently stewing instead of causing a scene. Steve recoiled back into his own head- Eddie’s King Steve comment affecting him more than he thought it would. He watched Anthony Michael Hall and kept wondering if this would be his fate- no bitches. Had he really been that guy to have peaked in high school and then is destined to end up alone?

Steve’s comment towards Eddie made him also get lost in his own stream of self deprecating thoughts. He knew Steve was joking- but there was truth to it that made it sting. Eddie didn’t have a lot of experience with girls, most girls- hell including the one he was actually in love with- wanted really nothing to do with him. He wasn’t that guy. Girls didn’t look at him like that like they looked at Steve- how you looked at Steve. It made him jealous and sad and made him feel so painstakingly lonely despite being in a room full of his closest friends as you played with his hair. He could scream.

And as usual, you preoccupied yourself with Steve- thinking about what Steve could be thinking about or watching the way Steve anxiously rubbed his palms against his jeans. Was Steve thinking about Nancy? Maybe, just maybe, you could catch him looking at you, even if just once. Maybe Steve would get up and go to the kitchen, and it could be an opening for you to check in with him since he’s seemed off tonight. You felt hopeless.

Robin just assumed most people were quiet because they genuinely were watching the movie, but she realized something was wrong when she was the only person laughing. It couldn’t be that she was the only one who wanted to crack jokes or laugh at this godforsaken movie. She eventually caught on to something brewing in the air amongst her friends and it was incredibly unsettling.

“GOD! I can’t take it anymore!” She exclaims, and everyone jumps. “What is wrong with everybody tonight? You all are acting so effing weird and I can’t stand it.”

“Everyone’s fine, Robin,” you offer, trying to diffuse the tension. She shooks you a look. A “do you think I’m fucking stupid” look that could kill. Fair enough, you think to yourself.

“Clearly something is wrong,” she reiterates. Annoyed with Nancy, Jonathan takes the bait and casts the first stone.

“I don’t know,” Jonathan muses, looking at Nancy before letting out his irritation, “Might have to do with the fact you hang around with your ex all the time- and it’s clearly obvious he still has feelings for you.”

Nancy gasps, offended that Jonathan would bring a fight that they’d had before into the room for everyone to comment on. Jonathan knew how Steve felt, and Nancy’s refusal to acknowledge his concerns on numerous occasions has finally made Jonathan hit his breaking point. He needed her to realize that he wasn’t jealous of Steve- but Steve was jealous of him. Nancy denied that Steve still held feelings for her. She was actually oblivious.

“Steve and I are just friends!” Nancy insists, “I have told you that and told you that! It’s like you don’t trust me!”

“I don’t trust him!” Jonathan emphasizes. “Whether you want to acknowledge it or not, he still likes you and you still keep hanging around with him when you’re supposed to be with me, Nance.”

“I am with you! I’m your girlfriend, not his,” she snaps. “Steve, come on, please tell him he’s being ridiculous.”

Most unfortunately, Steve stutters. He hesitates and fumbles, and couldn’t lie fast enough. The pregnant seconds where he’s at a loss for words tells Jonathan everything he needs to know. It doesn’t feel good to know he was right.

“Sounds about right,” Jonathan scoffs.

“It’s not her fault-” Steve tried to interject.

“Stay out of it Steve,” Jonathan sighs, “please.”

This fight was not about Steve, and everyone knew it. This was about Jonathan, and the way he hurt when Nancy dismissed his feelings. It was about how she didn’t take his concerns seriously or ever was willing to talk about it. He was sick of being dismissed as paranoid or jealous. He knew Nancy had no idea how Steve felt, but it wasn’t an excuse to inadvertently gaslight him when he knew something felt off.

“I’m going home,” Nancy says, sitting up suddenly in hopes of making a swift exit to save her pride.

“Nope!” Robin interjects, “We aren’t done. I’m not letting any of you leave until all of it is out in the open. I can’t go on like this. You guys are my best friends and we are working all of this shit out.” She takes a steady breath and Nancy surprisingly sits back down calmly. “So props to Jonathan for getting the ball rolling,” Robin quips, “let’s actually keep talking things out, yeah?”

“Steve?” Nancy looks at him, and she looks hurt. She feels so betrayed- like all of the times they’ve spent together as friends has been a lie. A ruse to win her back- she feels lied to and like she’s simultaneously lost a friend in the same breath. It guts her. She’s too stunned to even know what to say.

Steve keeps his head down, too ashamed to look at anyone. He holds his head in his hands. You watch him intently, you absorb all his hurt like a sponge. You keep your gaze on him, wanting to reach out and comfort him. You look like a puppy who's been hit on the nose with a newspaper and Eddie scoffs.

“Something you’d like to share with the class, Munson?” Robin turns, picking up on Eddie’s disgust. He shakes his head and avoids her knowing gaze. Fuck it, he thinks to himself.

“I’m fucking pissed,” Eddie announces, standing up. The braid you were in the process of making slowly unravels as he moves. He looks to you and then to Steve. “I’m not even pissed at anyone, I’m just stewing in my own self-hatred because I’m in love with her.” Eddie points to you dramatically, not even realizing how much he’s revealing as his emotions get the best of him. “But she’s so in love with you,” Eddie points a finger at Steve, “That she doesn’t even notice me.”

“I don’t even blame anyone- of course you love Steve, you know? It just fucking sucks because I watch you and you’re always watching him and you keep hoping he’s going to see you and he never does. Meanwhile, I’m so in love with you that it physically hurts and I can never tell you because you’re my best friend and Steve is my best friend. And if you like her back, Steve, you should go for it. I can’t even put myself out there cause scenario one, I lose you,” Eddie gestures to you. “Scenario two- Steve gets his head out of his ass and you two finally get together. I lose both of you, because I can’t put myself through watching someone I’m in love with be with someone else. Or scenario three- you and I do get together and I’m all in- I swear to god, I would be all fucking in. But would you ever even love me as much as you’ve loved him? I don’t know.”

It’s your turn to be stunned. For the first time, Steve’s looking at you and it’s not at all what you hoped it would be. You recognize the look in his eye, it’s the same way Nancy was just looking at him. Pity. You know then and there that Steve never once thought about you the way you hoped he secretly did. It was all made up in your head. Eddie looks defeated, and mortified all at the same time. He shocked himself at his outburst. He’d always been one for dramatics but never at your expense. He feels so guilt ridden that he could shrivel up and let the world swallow him whole.

“I, uh, need to get some air,” you say. You grab your jacket from the hook and slide on your shoes in one fluid motion. “I’ll be back,” you say quickly, slamming the door behind you as you left Eddie and Steve’s apartment. You can’t help as the tears stream down your face uncontrollably. It’s one of those cries where it’s so hard you can’t even make noise as it takes all of your breath away. You’re practically doubled over in the midst of a panic attack when Eddie finds you leaning against the building.

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” he says earnestly, “That was so fucked up. I am so, so sorry. That wasn’t fair to you, that was such a shitty thing for me to say.”

You manage to nod to let him know you heard him, but you’re blubbering and you’re still struggling to get your breath back. Hiccuped breaths finally catch up to you and you feel your lungs slowly begin to refill with air. The night’s cold air helps to clear your sinuses in one big breath. You wipe your face with the sleeves of your jacket. You can’t bring yourself to look at him just yet.

“Steve is so lucky,” Eddie says after another few moments of silence. “To be loved by you?” He chuckles, taking a lean on the wall next to you. “Lucky bastard,” he jokes, and you manage a forced smile through the tears. “Must be the best damn thing in the whole world and he doesn’t even realize it,” he continues more seriously. “Well, until now, when I ruined everything,” he finalizes, sheepishly.

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize it either,” you mumble, “God, what Steve was doing to me- I was doing to you? Fuck.”

“Fucked up, right?” he teases. “How’s it feel, heartbreaker?”

“Really, really shitty,” you settle on and he laughs.

“Yup,” he agrees, making a pop sound at the end. “Really, really shitty. Indeed.”

“God, I wasted so much fucking time,” you admit to yourself.

“I didn’t mean it,” he says softly, helping fix the collar of your jacket. It was tucked in because you put it on so fast and didn’t bother to fix it. “That I wouldn’t be able to trust you with Steve or whatever if we hypothetically got together or whatever- it was just a really, really ugly insecurity that bubbled up. If after this all blows over and you don’t completely hate my guts, and maybe by some miracle you wanted to give us a chance, I wouldn’t hold your feelings for Steve over you like that.”

“Did you mean it that I’d lose you?” you ask, looking to him. He shakes his head.

“I was talking out of my ass,” he admits, “I was emotional and just letting my frustration get the better of me. I won’t stop being your friend if you don’t like me back.”

“I’ve been doing that already,” he jokes and you swat his arm.

“Not funny,” you grumble, but you can’t find it in you to actually be upset.

“I don’t want an answer from you now,” he says, shifting back to a serious tone, but you can hear how nervous he is. “But if and when you get over Steve, and you realize I’m not that bad to look at- maybe you and I could go out sometime. I’m putting the ball in your court. I just want you to be happy. If you end up with Steve, I’m your best man. You end up with me, I’ll work my hardest every damn day to make you so fucking happy. No matter what, I will be your friend. You aren’t losing me.”

“Thank you,” you smile, and you pull him into a hug. You finally start to feel okay again. You feel like you could get over Steve, but then you remember that everyone inside is waiting for you- including Steve. The anxiety begins to stir and you can’t imagine facing everyone now after all of this.

“I got you,” Eddie whispers, taking your hand, “We’ll go back together.”

Eddie’s held your hand a million times before, but it wasn’t until now that you realize how well your hand fits in his. You shake your head to erase the thought from your mind for now and try to relax. The walk back up to the apartment is much longer than it’s ever felt before.

No one says anything when you both come back. You and Eddie kick off your shoes and he helps you take your jacket off. You sniffle, and quickly take your seat back on the loveseat. Eddie slips into the kitchen and grabs a six pack from the fridge. He holds it up like a fish he’s just caught triumphantly.

“I think we all need one, yeah?” He jokes and he diffuses the tension as everyone agrees in tandem. He pulls them apart from the plastic ring, tossing them out. He throws you a wink when he tosses you yours and you can’t help but smile.

“Can I just say,” Robin says, “Had I known you all were upset about actually serious stuff- I wouldn’t have opened this can of worms. I thought you were just pissed at each other about the comments about not getting laid.”

Nancy and Jonathan must have made up while you were outside because instead of separate seats, Jonathan sat on the living room chair and Nancy was perched on his lap. Steve was just watching you. Suddenly, it didn’t matter that Nancy was there. He was fixated on looking at you. He was taking in everything about you like he was looking at you, really looking at you for the first time.

Fuck, if you weren’t beautiful, Steve thinks. He always knew you were, but he never really thought about it until now. Even after crying, you just look so pretty. He’s pained knowing he’s caused you so much pain. He looks to Eddie and feels jealousy rise irrationally. He’s jealous of Eddie for realizing how perfect you were before he did. It’s so fucking petty and he knows it. Eddie’s had all this time to adore you, while he’s squandered it following around Nancy like a simp. He’s loved you and lost you in the same fucking night.

“Let’s keep going,” Eddie jokes, trying to make light of the situation, “Air out more grievances- Buckley, you need new shoes. Those fucking chucks are abhorrent- please, get new ones. They are why your back hurts all the time.”

“Okay, Mr. Same White Reeboks Since Senior Year,” she taunts, feigning offense to his jab. “Keep my converse out of your mouth!”

“I have boots now,” he says, pointing to the leather boots by the door. “Much more metal.”

“Cause it’s fucking January, Eddie,” Robin says with a laugh, “Of course you’re wearing fucking boots.”

“Yet you strolled into my house wearing Converse,” he says walking over the the floor and pointing at Robin’s worse for wear Chuck Taylors. “It was snowing this morning, Robin! Please, as your friend- please let ME get you new shoes.”

“You can pry those shoes off of me when I’m dead,” she raises her voice. The lighthearted air has returned to the evening. It felt like it had been salvaged for now. Everyone seemed to be feeling better, except Steve. As the world began to pick up again, he was paralyzed- burdened with the knowledge of your feelings for him and knowing he might be too late to do anything about it. Was it?

PART TWO

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jxstsxgx · 2 months ago

Text

𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴 𝙶𝙸𝚁𝙻𝚂...?! | 𝚁𝙾𝙱𝙸𝙽 𝙱𝚄𝙲𝙺𝙻𝙴𝚈

Pairings: Robin Buckley x fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,069 words

Summary: Robin has a crush. A huge one. On Hawkins High’s walking sunbeam and part time diner waitress. But Robin’s convinced she’s into Steve. Until one shift at Family Video turns into the cutest kind of freakout.

Contains: Fluff, WLW mutual pining, soft chaos, emotional panic, sunshine x awkward

masterlist |

The bell over the Family Video door jingled, and Robin didn’t even look up at first.

She was behind the counter, chewing on the end of her pen, half-reading a return log and half-listening to Steve ramble about some girl who smiled at him at the gas station.

Until you walked in.

Soft pink scrunchie in your hair. White sneakers. A pastel sundress that swished when you moved. Like the damn sun had decided to take human form and wander into her workplace.

Steve straightened instantly. “Okay, hold up. Now that’s a chick.”

Robin’s head snapped up even though she'd already clocked the sound of your walk, the exact shape of your silhouette in the glass, the way her heart always sped up just a little too fast when you were near.

She tried to play it cool. Really, she did.

“Oh. Yeah.” She shrugged like it meant nothing. “I know her.”

Steve turned to her, brows lifted. “You know her?”

Robin cleared her throat. “I mean… not really. Just... we’re in the same biology class. She’s the one who brings those glitter pens and always has, like, fruit-scented highlighters. And she knows all the answers but never makes you feel stupid. And she smells like strawberry shampoo and once she lent me a pencil when I forgot mine and said—” She stopped, color rushing to her cheeks. “I’ve seen her around.”

Steve blinked.

Robin turned back to the return log. Her ears were bright red.

You walked up to the counter and gave them both a polite, cheerful smile that made Robin’s knees feel like they could go rogue at any second.

“Hi! Do you guys have Heathers in?”

“Yup, sure do!” Steve was already halfway around the counter. “Robin, check the binder?”

She didn’t need to. She knew it was in. She’d shelved it herself two days ago. Still, she flipped through for show, fingers a little shaky.

“One copy,” she said, disappearing into the back to grab it.

When she returned and handed it to you, your fingers brushed, and your smile was even warmer than the weather outside.

“Thanks, Robin.”

She barely managed a “no problem” before you turned and walked out.

She watched until the door closed.

You came back the next day.

And the next. Each time, Steve greeted you like he was ready to date you yesterday.

And each time, Robin shrunk a little more behind the counter.

You always smiled at her, though.

Always lingered, just a second longer than necessary.

But that had to mean nothing, right? You were like that with everyone. Robin had seen you be just as kind to the postman, to the kid who ran the photo booth at the mall. You were sunshine. Friendly and open and... probably not into girls. And definitely not into her.

Each time with a movie in mind, or a question about release dates, or just to browse and chat about whatever tape Robin happened to be shelving. Steve tried his luck a couple times, always leaning on the counter, trying to be charming, but you always talked to Robin, too. Always said her name. Always gave her a smile that felt like it was just for her.

Still, Robin wasn’t stupid.

You were sweet with everyone. Friendly, warm, sunshine in a dress. You probably smiled at your mailman like that, too. It didn’t mean anything.

And besides, you were probably into Steve. Everyone was into Steve.

So she stayed quiet. Watched from behind the counter. Wrote dumb little notes in the margins of her bio notebook about covalent bonds and girls with cherry lip balm.

Then one Thursday, Steve was late.

Robin had opened the store by herself, cranky about it but trying not to let it show. She was rearranging the comedy shelf when the door jingled again.

You walked in, hair twisted up with a claw clip, jean jacket over your dress, a tote bag slung over one shoulder.

“Steve’s not here yet?” you asked, your eyes scanning the counter.

Robin shook her head. “He’s running late.” You're definitely into Steve. She thought.

You nodded but didn’t move to leave.

Instead, you stepped a little closer, resting your arms on the edge of the counter. “That’s okay. I actually, um… kinda came to see you anyway.”

Robin blinked. “Me?”

“Yeah.” You smiled, eyes bright but nervous. “I, uh... I’ve got closing shift at the diner tonight. We stop serving around nine. And I was wondering…”

She swore her heart skipped three beats.

“…If you maybe wanted to come by? I could make you a shake? Or, like, fries? Or… I don’t know, if you’re not busy.”

Robin stared at you like you’d just asked her to marry you.

“You want me to?” she started.

“Yeah.” You tucked your hair behind your ear, clearly flustered. “I mean, I’ve been meaning to ask. I just… figured this is easier for our biology project.”

Oh, sure. The darned biology project.

Robin blinked. Then blinked again.

“I’d love that,” she said, barely managing not to squeak.

You grinned. “Then it is. Nine, okay?" And with a little wave, you turned and walked out the door.

Robin stood frozen, replaying the entire interaction on a loop, heart pounding so loud it was dizzying.

Five minutes later, Steve burst in, keys jangling, clearly out of breath.

“Sorry, sorry. I overslept. What’d I miss?”

Robin turned to him, eyes wild.

“She asked me out,” she whispered.

Steve blinked. “What?”

“She asked me out.”

Steve looked like he was shocked. “No way."

“She’s not... I mean it's for a project..” Robin shook her head, overwhelmed.

But like the idiots they were, Steve and Robin convinced themselves it meant something else. “She likes girls. She asked me. Out.”

Steve just clapped her on the back.

Robin was still standing there ten minutes later, shocked and smiling like an idiot.

Because biology class and highlighters and strawberry shampoo aside, you liked her. Or so she thinks so.

And she was absolutely, hopelessly, she was head over Converse for you.

#stranger things #robin buckley #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x female reader #steve harrington #joe keery #djo #maya hawke

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whosdinkleyhenderson · 7 months ago

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PROLOGUE

Previous part: Y/N L/N'S BIOGRAPHY

Next part: CHAPTER 1

“I swear to God, Timmy. If that bitch is there, I’m gonna Rocky Balboa her non-existent ass.”

A little giggle escaped her make-up artist Erin’s lips. A satisfactory smile appeared on the h/c’s face.

Timothee had been pacing and snapped his head at her girl in the make-up chair.

“You will not be Rocky Balboa, anyone’s ass, anywhere.” He hissed sternly.

Y/n had to suppress her e/c eyes from an oncoming eye roll. It wasn’t her fault she couldn’t stand the bitch.

“Timmy, she fat-shamed Selena. How can I just stand there, smile, and go ‘omg hiiiii. Nah, me oh, it’s cool that you fat-shamed my non-biological sister and gave her hell’ with the sweetest tone and then giggle. Like a dickhead.”

She dramatised, swinging her hands around the room, almost knocking out Erin.

“Would you be careful? Nearly sent Erin into a coma.”

“Sorry, Erin.”

The older woman waved her off.

“Y/n, I’ve known you since you were twelve. My duck and cover skills are at their peak.”

Smiling, Y/n looked up at Erin with appreciation.

“That reminds me, thank you for coming all this way.”

Carefully dusting the eyeshadow, Erin pulled away and smiled.

“I should thank you for flying me out and sending a limo… especially with that hot driver. You spoiled me.”

Timothee watched as the two conversed.

He couldn’t help but smile; Y/n had been in a bit of a rut for the past two months. She had expressed wanting to fly back home to Australia but with the finalising of Nosferatu, premiers and interviews. Time was not on her side, so having Erin here had brought the young girl a sense of home and familiarity that she had so desperately yearned for.

“And there we have it. All done, my dear…wait let me fix this piece of hair…okay…yep now we’re done.”

He watched as her eyes danced along her features in the mirror, lips creeping up into that gorgeous smile.

“Oh, Erin.” In a flash, the h/c wrapped her arms around the blonde, squeezing her tightly.

“I’ve missed you so much…I swear you’re my fairy godmother…hands of gold.”

Blushing, Erin ushered Y/n away.

“Okay, enough of that; you'll make me cry. Now go put your dress on. You can't walk around in your undies.”

Y/n tossed her robe over Timmy’s head and winked at Erin.

“Wouldn’t you like that? Toodles.” She cackled and disappeared behind the curtain.

“I know Lorenzo would.”

“SHUT UP TIMOTHEE!”

“It’s official: I hate heels. I don't care what anyone says. They’re painful…how the hell does Cecilia walk in these.” She complained.

If someone were to have walked in, they would think she was dancing to the twist.

Timothee rolled his eyes and brought the red clutch to her. With one final twist, she stood up straight.

“You know, I wish I was at home watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer right now…at least then I do have to wear heels. I could be in the living room fighting, doing flying kicks and punches. You know, get my vampire slayer on.” She explained, shifting into a boxing stance.

Timmy took hold of her hands and brought them down to her side. “If you decided to do that, you won’t see Lorenzo tonight.”

Way to use my kryptonite. She thought.

“Plus, you can do that once we come home. Get some pizza, popcorn and Moscato.”

She eyed him carefully. “What’s the catch, big boy?”

She knew him too well.

“Don’t Rocky Balboa anyone, and we can do it…Rocky Balboa, someone and I’ll force you to come with me to see Kylie on our next outing with Kendal.” Timmy watched as a mortified expression formed on her face.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Casting that Jack Nicholson smile, he chuckled. “Watch me, babe. Just watch me.”

“Fucking asshole.” She mumbled as he opened the door.

The crowd was wild.

Flashing lights left, right, and centre.

Celebrities posing for the camera.

The paparazzi called for pictures.

Fans screamed at the top of their lungs.

Interviewers were bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

Eyes danced across the chaotic scene before her as the flashing lights gave her a slight headache. She had been standing to the side, waiting for Timmy's return. Checking her watch every five seconds, she noticed that her patience was wearing thin, and the line for the red carpet was beginning to get overcrowded. And damn well knew that leaving this place early was not an option.

“Boo.” A cold, wet hand grasped at her shoulders. Spooked, she spun around and threw a fist in the direction of the person as they ducked before she could knock them out.

“Geez, Y/n. Your flight or fight senses kick in like a bitch.”

“You should know better than to come up behind me, you jackass.” She hissed and shoved the man.

“Where’s lil ol Tim Tim?”

“He said the toilet, but God knows.”

His brown eyes caught the young French actor being interviewed by Entertainment Tonight.

“Looks like Frenchie is being interviewed.”

Y/n followed his stare in Timothee's direction and shook her head. “Typical…”

Hearing the annoyance in her voice, he linked his arm with hers and smiled.

“Come on, princess. Gotta turn that frown upside for Mr Lorenzo Zurzolo.”

“You better watch that tongue of yours.”

The two stepped away from the flashing cameras and to the interview station.

Y/n felt a gentle pressure on the small of her back. Looking back, she noticed his tanned hand resting there as he led her towards an unoccupied table.

“They should provide sunglasses. Those flashing lights are going to make me blind, I swear.”

“Well, I’ll make sure to pass the message on.”

She shot him a look, brow slightly raised, and smirked. “Sure baby, whatever-” A tap on her shoulder stopped her from finishing that sentence.

“Excuse me.”

The two turned around. A young woman in a gorgeous ivory satin dress nervously smiled with a cameraman behind her.

“Hey, what’s up?” Y/n smiled at the two.

“Would it be okay if I interviewed you both?”

“Of course.” Y/n beamed, taking hold of the young woman’s hand. “You don’t mind if I ask you for your name, hon?”

The young woman’s head perked at Y/n’s comment.

“Emilia.”

“A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Got me jealous over here.” She winked as Emilia blushed.

“You’re such a flirt, Y/n…shall we?”

She handed the microphones to the two actors, who began to play lightsabers with them.

“Good evening, and welcome to the Academy Museum Gala 2024. I’m Emilia Rivers, and tonight I am here with.”

“Kelso.” He winked into the camera.

“and Jackie from that 70s show.” Y/n smiled cheekily.

“Sorry, sorry. Y/n L/n.”

“And Joe Keery.”

During their interview, Timothee interrupted Joe by giving him a peck on the cheek.

Emilia contained a giggle as Christian panned the camera to Y/n, who held her mic firmly and fluttered her eyelashes.

“And there, folks, is a new and beautiful romance between two star-crossed lovers.”

“I apologise on behalf of him. Please continue, Emilia.” Joe’s statement cleared the air.

“Thank you, Joe. Now I have one more question for you both.”

“Shoot away, hon.”

“As you know, we have two brand new faces here tonight. Have you come across the Netflix TV series Monsters?”

Joe beamed at the question, whereas Y/n blankly stared at Emilia.

“Yes, of course, I’ve watched it. I found it quite interesting. The art between separation of reality and fiction.” Joe’s words began as Y/n zoned out. She had no interest in watching a TV show about murders or a documentary. At least in the documentary, it's fact rather than an overly sexualised fantasy. Too in her thoughts, she missed Emilia's call out to her.

“Hmm?”

“Emilia here asked about-” Joe started.

“Oh yes! I remember, haha, sorry. No, I haven’t, sadly. Though I do recall my grandmother, according to my sister, did but only made it through a few episodes. Too modern for her taste, haha.” She finished tucking a strand of hair.

Emilia smiled at Y/n’s actions.

“That’s so adorable. Well, thank you so much for the interview tonight. I hope you both have a wonderful rest of the night.”

The two actors smiled kindly, thanking Emilia and Christian, as Y/n blew kisses.

“God bless you both.”

Joe excitedly rubbed his palms together as the two walked away.

“She was very nice.”

“Yeah, she was the nicest and most beautiful presenter I've spoken to all year round…she and Christian look cute together. Did you see how they shot each other those cute little looks? Ahhh, young love, how beautiful.” Y/n sang with a skip.

“You know, for someone who loves her paranormal, blood, gore and murder. It freaks me out how you still have a soft spot for romance.” Joe laughed and died a little when he noticed Y/n went quiet.

“Out of all the interviews I've had this year. Emilia is the first person not to ask about Bill.” She sighed.

“That bad, huh?”

She paused and rested a hand on her temple.

“I…uh…I just… it’s hard, you know. I’ve known him since I was sixteen years old… honestly, I didn’t think he would take a liking to me…someone ten years his junior, ya know.”

Joe nodded along to her words. “Yeah, I understand… but hey, I’m also ten years your senior.”

She smiled, shaking her head before she met his eye.

“I know, but with you… it feels perfect… I feel somewhat safe in the presence of you and Timmy. Hell, even the little encounters I’ve had with Lorenzo…I know, I know, it's weird that I say that. But you, Timmy and Lorenzo, don't cast a big shadow over me. You three don't make me feel like I’m being swallowed whole… but for my father, Bill is perfect.” Joe knew where Y/n was coming from and how she felt. He saw it for himself when Bill would show up on the set of Stranger Things to see her.

He thought the two looked cute together despite their height and age difference. But secretly,, he was hoping Lorenzo and Y/n would finally date.

Joe and even Timmy could see it in her eyes; they didn’t sparkle for Bill. But only for him, Lorenzo Zurzolo.

Joe turned to Y/n and grasped her hand. “Come on, let’s go find Hailee and Ella.”

...................................................LOADING..................................................

On the other side of the gala, two men stood beside each other, posing for the cameras.

Flash!

Snap!

Flash!

Snap!

His eyes squinted, and lights blinded him, but he still held his stance firm, death glare along his handsome features.

“Alright, that’s a wrap. Thank you, Nicholas and Cooper.”

They sighed and moved to the side after being there for hours. The relentless photos, interviews, and check-ins with event staff and other celebrities were starting to annoy him.

“Hey, check that cutie out. She seems like your type, Nick. Small, bright eyes.” Cooper pointed out.

Following his friend's gaze, he noticed a young girl interviewing Selena Gomez. While she was attractive, her beauty didn’t intrigue him. He craved being star-struck and amazed by a woman’s presence.

“Hey.”

To their surprise, the two Monsters actors were face to face with none other than Joe Keery.

“I’m Joe Keery, nice to meet you.” Joe greeted, holding out his hand.

Nicholas smiled and took hold of Joe’s hand, giving it a firm shake.

“Hey, Nicholas Chavez.”

Joe Keery, the late 2010s heartthrob who captured his ex-girlfriend's heart.

Nicholas’ smile deflated at the thought of his ex. His gaze became harsh as he took in Joe's features. Luscious brown hair, warm brown eyes. 5’11 and built like an athlete.

The young actor understood the fascination.

The two men shared similar features, such as brown eyes, hair and tan skin. But compared to him, Joe was small. He did not compare to Nicholas’ thick, solid muscles and his overpowering 6’2 hulking figure.

Nicholas's intimidating gaze was humbled. There, she stood a few meters away from Joe.

Her flowing red dress danced with her laughter while her hand rested softly on Timothee Chalamet’s bicep. With a smile, her eyelashes fluttered as she gazed up at the blue-eyed man.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off her as he took in her features. H/c hair was neatly styled in a Dutch braid. A few wisps of hair fell in front of her eyes. The colour of e/c eyes with a hint of red when in the light were complimented by long black eyelashes that brushed so gently against her fair cheeks. He wished she was looking at him with the glint in her eye instead of Timothee.

Feeling eyes burning on their back, both Y/n and Timothee turned to find a strange young man amongst a group of Joe’s, staring them down. Moving in closely, Y/n pulled Timothee closer to her as her gaze hardened; two can play at this game fuckface. She thought.

“The hell is he looking at?”

“Y/n, you can’t say that.”

The young woman turned her attention to her best friend and smirked. “I can do and say as I please, Timmy.”

“Nick, you okay, man?” Cooper called. Turning his gaze toward the group, he smiled.

“Yeah…just who’s she.” The two men followed his stare to Y/n, who was getting ready to give Nicholas the finger.

“Y/n! Put your finger down right now.” Timothee's voice called from across the room.

"Spoil my fun, why don't ya?"

Joe and Cooper share a look, stunned by the young woman’s menacing behaviour. She sure is one of a kind. Not afraid to be who she was.

“Who? Oh, her, she’s Y/n L/n. She’s an interesting one at first. She’s not easily swooned by men and not easily open to women. Hence her almost giving you the finger.” The statement made Nicholas chuckle. This girl seemed feisty, a challenge he could work with.

“I’ll break her walls down… Watch me… by the end of this year, she’ll be my girl.”

“Ha, good luck with that, Romeo. She’s head over heels for Lorenzo Zurzolo, according to sources.” Cooper purred.

Tags: @comfortzonequeen

A/N: let me know if there are any ideas you would like to see or even if you want me to do one shots on Nicholas Chavez characters. feel free to dm or something. Idk, but chapter 1 in is the works. Until next time.

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darnell-la · 7 days ago

Text

VIRGINS AND A HYPE MAN

pairing: shy!virgin!eddie munson x virgin!reader x best friend!steve harrington

summary: Steve, Eddie, and y/n have been friends for years. Sexual tension has grown throughout their times together, yet none of them would act on it. Steve knew he could get them together, but it was hard. After an unexpectedly weird night at a frat party, Steve decided to pressure the both — In a best friend way, of course.

warnings: long love story, jealousy, lgbtq+ (reader gay asf), intoxicated, anger, pressure, virgin sex, riding, missionary, rough sex, slight threesome, breeding, a lot of moaning, chocking, manhandling, etc

note: we have a lot of old stories on our “pages” app, so we’ll be posting those as we work on our requests. Please send in whatever you want us to write about!

WE DO NOT ACCEPT COPYRIGHT!

“Are you guys going to party tonight?” Y/n asked both Steve and Eddie as she sat down at their cafeteria table. “You know I am, but I don’t know about Munson here,” Steve said. Eddie has never been a party person, especially before becoming friends with Steve and y/n.

“C’mon, Eddie, just try it out! Maybe you’ll like it,” y/n said as she smiled at her friend. “I don’t know,” Eddie said, a little shaky that y/n was asking him to go out tonight. They’ve been friends forever, but he still feels nervous when she comes around.

“C’mon, Munson, you’ll like it. I know you will,” Steve teased, knowing Eddie’s stomach was twisting and turning because of their friend. “Shut up,” Eddie slightly whispered, confusing y/n, but she shook it off and ate a few of her grapes.

“Hey, y/n!” Jane, a situationship said as she came up to the table, now standing next to y/n. Eddie rolled his eyes and sighed slow. He dislikes Jane. Why? Because she’s always trying to get with y/n every time Eddie feels like he has y/n under his fingers.

Honestly, Eddie hated anyone who had an interest in y/n. Why would he like them? He wanted her to be his, not someone else.

Steve notices Eddie’s mannerism when Jane comes around. His mood always changes. Either he stays quiet most of the time, or he tries to get overly flirty. Steve always manages to keep his laugh in no matter how cringeworthy Eddie looks.

“Oh, hey!” Y/n said with a bright smile on her face as she leaned in to hug Jane. Eddie’s blood instantly boiled. He hated how she responded. He hated that she responded at all.

“You know what? I’ll go to the party just for you, princess,” Eddie said with a slight smile. “Are you serious? Thank you!” Y/n said, sounding happy as ever. Steve just knew the two would be an amazing couple if they were to get together.

“Could you come with me for a second, please? Need to show you some things,” Jane whispered into y/n’s ear, but loud enough for the boys to hear. It wasn’t hard to see how much Eddie despised her presence, but of course, she wanted to seem oblivious of it.

“I’ll be right back,” y/n said as she got up and ran off with Jane. Steve and Eddie already knew what they were going to do, which killed Eddie’s mood completely. Why could she never see him like she sees Jane?

“Don’t beat yourself up. Maybe if you’d made a move, she’d be all over you and not her,” Steve said, making Eddie roll his eyes, but the two knew Steve was right. Y/n is very accepting.

“Y/n probably isn’t even a virgin, and I am, sooo I wouldn’t even know what the hell to do with her,” Eddie said, embarrassed that Jane could probably do her better than he could. “How about you just wing it, dude. She wouldn’t judge, and you know that,”

“Did you see what she had on? That skimpy ass skirt…” Eddie angrily said, getting off track like y/n was his girlfriend. He hates the way she dresses because he knows she’s not taken. Anyone could have a chance.

“Yeah, but maybe she’s wearing it for you,” Steve said, trying to lighten Eddie’s mood. “You never know, Munson. I keep telling you all the time she seems nervous around you, but don’t believe me if you want to,” Steve said.

“Whatever,” Eddie groaned, thinking about how good y/n looks every day, even on her so-called bad days. If there was a chance y/n dressed the way she did for him, he’d go crazy. He’s even going crazy right now.

Eddie could feel himself grow hard in his pants. It always came unexpectedly. It’s like he almost rips through his jeans at the thought of y/n wanting her in any way.

“I’ll be right back,” Eddie said as he got up to go to the bathroom. Steve laughed out loud, knowing exactly what was going on. It always annoyed Steve how he couldn’t just fix his problems with Eddie.

“Alright, I think it’s time to go,” Steve said as he started pulling y/n away from Jane, who was trying to give y/n another cup of frat juice.

He had seen Jane talking to a few frat boys before the party, and those same frat boys wouldn’t stop looking at y/n throughout the night. Jane continuously rushed y/n to drink one drink after another, yet she had nothing.

“What’s wrong?” The drunk young lady asked as she turned towards Steve. She could see the look on her face. Something was up, but she didn’t know what.

“Hey- I’ll catch up with you tomorrow,” y/n said as she turned back to Jane, knowing that if Steve is freaked out this much, she should listen.

“Why? I thought we were gonna, you know, have some fun,” Jane said. “I’d love to, but we can always meet tomorrow,” y/n suggested, trying not to sound rude to her. She hated having to leave, but she trusted Steve.

“I canceled on girls tonight just for you, y/n! What the hell is going on?” Jane asked, growing upset as she looked at Steve. The anger quickly grew on Jane’s face.

“Nothing, it’s just- I have homework and it’s pretty late,” y/n lied, making Jane laugh in disappointment. She knew she was lying. Y/n had always been a terrible liar.

“Don’t tell me you’re going home with Steve? Steve Harrington! You know, all he wants is to fuck, right? You’re a virgin, y/n. Don’t do that to yourself.”

Y/n’s heart dropped at Jane’s words. She told Jane not to tell anyone about her sex life. Y/n being a virgin is the whole reason why she messes around with Jane. She didn’t know how she would feel about taking a real dick… She thought a strap-on would be enough.

“You’re an asshole,” y/n said as her eyes began to tear up. The upset girl turned around and walked away, pulling Steve and Eddie with her so that they could take her home or anywhere other than here.

As the three friends arrived at Eddie’s house, Eddie hung up his jacket and went into his room to give y/n a change of clothes, like he always does after she comes to his house after a party.

“You good?” Eddie asked as he handed y/n a T-shirt and shorts. “Yeah,” y/n replied low and plain as she got up from his couch, grabbed his clothes, and went to Eddie’s bathroom to change.

“Now you know!” Steve said as soon as Eddie's door closed. Sadly, Jane put y/n on the spot like because whatever she was planning failed, but at the same time, it was good news for Eddie. Now he shouldn’t feel ashamed. He could slip right into y/n's pants.

“No, no, she’s in a bad mood,” Eddie said as he flopped down on his couch. “You can’t hide that forever, Munson,” Steve said, eyes locked in the older boy's bulge.

“Fuck off, would ya?” Eddie said as he rolled his eyes and placed a pillow on his lap to hide it before y/n came back out. The last thing he wants is for y/n to think he’s a pervert.

“The shorts are too big!” y/n whined in anger as she came out of the bathroom. It was silent for a few seconds after y/n entered the living room. Eddie's T-shirt covered her upper body but not so much her lower.

“Uhm- I don’t have anything else right now. They’re all being washed in my uncle's trailer,” Eddie said, surprisingly breaking the silence first with that sight in front of him.

Usually, Steve is the first to speak up about almost anything, but he was too lost at the sight of his best friend in nothing but a shirt that fit her perfectly. For the first time in a while, Eddie isn’t the only one hard.

“It’s fine! We’re all best friends here anyway,” Steve said as he patted the spot between him and Eddie. He made space for her right next to both of them on purpose. He’s tired of waiting for Eddie to make the first move.

Y/n sighed as she placed Eddie’s shorts on a table in front of the couch, then sat down.

“So — About earlier…” Steve said, making y/n cross her arms and lean back on the couch. “What about earlier?” Y/n asked with an attitude because it’s clear that she doesn’t want to speak about it.

“It’s obvious that you’re bothered by what Jane said, and I’m just here to tell you that it’s fine being a virgin at this age. Hell- Eddie’s almost in his mid-20s and a virgin,”

“Dude!” Eddie shouted as he leaned back on the couch to cover his face in embarrassment. “What!?” Steve dragged, but Eddie knew exactly what he was doing.

“Oh- I didn’t know that,” y/n said, feeling her heart calm down a bit. “Well, I feel a little better about myself,” she added. “Why are you still a virgin? You have sex with women — Why not a man?” Steve asked, getting straight to the point.

“C’mon, dude, it’s probably personal,” Eddie said. “No, no, it’s fine- You guys are my best friends — I feel comfortable enough to tell and do anything with you guys,” y/n said, making Steve shoot a smile at Eddie when y/n wasn’t looking.

“We all know how men are. Especially here in Hawkins, and I don’t want that. Having sex with a woman is just different to me,” y/n explained.

“All the men here are either taken, assholes, or my best friend,” y/n said, not thinking much of it, but made Steve and Eddie break their necks to look at her. They couldn’t believe what she had said.

“What?” Steve asked. “Basically, I’d do you guys, but I became friends with y’all before anything else. Doing anything sexual with people you became friends with isn’t normal, I guess,” explained.

Eddie's heart started racing at y/n’s words. It’s like his dream was coming true. Steve was right.

“Anyways- Let’s just watch a movie,” y/n said as she got up to get the remote from the table in front of them. As she bent over, her shirt slightly came up, allowing Steve and Eddie to see her thin and small panties.

Eddie groaned low at the sight of how small they were. They’re so small that anyone could see her lips trying their best not to slip out.

“I bet you came just by that, huh?” Steve whispered with a smile as he shifted in his own pants, trying not to cum by the sight he just saw. He felt just like Eddie at the moment.

“Huh?” Y/n asked as she sat back down. “Nothing!” Eddie shouted in surprise, making Steve slap his hand over his face. God, Eddie was hard to deal with. He’s like a child.

“Mhmkay…” y/n dragged as she turned on the TV to search for a movie to watch for the night. Eddie couldn’t keep his mind off how close he was to seeing y/n's bare pussy.

“Don’t tell me you guys are turned on by a pair of tits on TV!” Y/n started clowning the two as they shifted on the couch, thinking it wouldn’t be noticeable, but it was.

“Oh, shut up! I bet you get wet at the sight of a dude in a tight shirt, you virgin,” Steve teased, making y/n slap his shoulder playfully.

“You’re an asshole,” y/n said, trying to act like she was hurt by his words. “Oh, I’m an asshole?” Steve asked as he turned towards his best friend. “Yes!” Y/n shouted, knowing what was coming.

“Oh yeah?” Steve asked right as he hovered over y/n and began tickling her. “Steve!” Y/n shouted as she tried pushing Steve off. “Eddie, help!” Y/n whined, making Eddie laugh. He just sat back and watched.

At first, Eddie was watching how cute y/n looked when she laughed, but then his gaze went down to her lower body, watching his shirt on her body rise up unit her panties were exposed. They’re so much smaller than he thought.

“This is unfair!” Y/n laughed as she lifted her hips up, trying to get from under Steve, but quickly stopped when she noticed something poking her.

Steve kept pushing up against y/n with a smirk until she finally noticed. He was doing this on purpose. It was what he wanted.

“S-Steve,” y/n said, not knowing what else to say at the moment. “Yeah?” Steve asked, keeping that smirk on his face. “Steve, you’re- Steve,” y/n choked on her words as she felt him press up against her harder than before.

“What’s wrong, y/n? Something bothering you?” Steve asked like he didn’t know what was going on as he pushed his bulge up against y/n’s heat some more. This time, she moaned at the pressure on her bud.

“S-Steve, stop it,” y/n hesitates to say. “Why? Is something wrong?” Harrington asked again, wanting her to say it. He wanted to hear her say he was making her feel some type of way.

“Y-Your hard,” she finally let out. “Oh, I’m sorry, princess,” Steve chuckled as he sat back up and sat next to her like nothing had happened.

“C’mon, guys — Don’t ruin the moment, man,” Steve said. “We didn’t mess the moment up, dude, you did,” Eddie said. “What are you talking about? I’m spicing things up so you can finally slip your virgin dick in her, Jesus Christ!” Steve shouted, annoyed that both of them were too scared to make the first move.

“C’mon, y/n, do something! He’s hard. You’re wet- And don’t lie! — I felt you up against my crotch,” Steve didn’t spare her. The only way Steve thought would make them break the sexual tension was to make them uncomfortable. That was the only move left.

Currently, they both feel uncomfortable, but they’re not mad at Steve. They’re actually thanking Steve deep inside and waiting for one of them to make the first move. Of course, everyone knows by now, none of them will.

“God, I’m done,” Steve said as he got up from the couch and kneeled in front of y/n’s legs. “You guys piss me off so much, it’s unbelievable,” Steve groaned in anger as she opened his best friend's legs.

“Wait, Steve,” y/n said, yet didn’t move. “Shut it! I’m helping you out for God's sake!” Within seconds, Steve ripped y/n’s sad excuse of underwear off, causing her to gasp in shock.

“Look how fucking soaked you are. She’s begging for some kind of affection, Eddie,” Steve said as he held his hand out towards y/n’s cunt. She looked a mess, and he loved it.

“Virgins get so fucking wet — This is perfect,” Steve said in a voice Scotlyn had never heard before. The man wasted no time sticking a finger in her entrance which causing her to moan and lean back.

“Steve,” y/n now whined, causing a chuckle to come from Steve’s mouth. He sounded and looked evil between y/n’s legs. For some reason, she loved it.

“Just getting you ready for Munson,” Steve said as he pulled his finger out of her. Steve licked his himself before moving in front of Eddie.

The young man unbuckled the older man’s pants. Surprisingly, Eddie stayed surprised and shocked as Steve pulled Eddie’s pants and boxers down at the same time, allowing his cock to jump out.

“Holy shit- You’re killing it, Munson,” Steve joked at the sight of Eddie cock. He had already come earlier at the sight of y/n’s pussy when she bent over, yet his balls were still blue.

“Now that you guys are ready, I’ll let you guys continue on your own,” Steve said, now sitting back in front of them both, hoping one of them would make a move. He’s done all he could that doesn’t involve Steve fucking y/n before Eddie can.

Y/n took a deep breath, then slowly made her way on top of Eddie, shocking them all. Eddie looked everywhere but into y/n’s eyes, which bothered Steve, but at least they’re getting ready to do anything but not touch each other.

“Are you fine with this?” Y/n asked since Eddie hadn’t looked at her. “Of course- I-I mean, yes,” Eddie rephrased, making y/n slightly giggle. She’s always loved how shy and awkward Eddie was. That’s what made Eddie.

Y/n took another deep breath as she rubbed Eddie’s cock up and down the slit of her cunt to prepare both of them.

Eddie let out a pathetic, low moan, causing y/n’s heart to beat faster than before. Steve shook his head in embarrassment for the two. Virgins… That was all Steve could think.

Y/n eventually slipped Eddie’s tip into her entrance and sat down until he was deep inside of her. Both of them let out a moan as they grabbed each other tightly.

“Now bounce, princess — I wanna see the view.” Steve didn’t hold back how much he needed to see the two fuck. Y/n did as told and slowly started bouncing. “Pick it up,” Steve said, giving her a slap on the ass.

Y/n listened after letting out a small yelp and bounced faster. “You heard that, Munson? Sounds like heaven to me,” Steve said, talking about the sound y/n’s pussy made from how wet she was.

“Mhmm,” Eddie whined as he tilted his head back for a few seconds before finally looking into y/n’s eyes. Y/n struggled to keep eye contact, so Eddie gripped her neck softly, but tight enough to hold her in place, forcing her to look at her.

“Does it feel good, baby?” Eddie asked. “Y-Yes,” y/n stuttered as Eddie began thrusting up into her messy hole. “Fuck yeah, it does,” Eddie said with a slight whine. He sounded pathetic, but in a good way.

“Pussy drunk already, Munson?” Steve laughed as he helped y/n move faster by placing his hands on her ass and side, moving them until he liked the pace she was going.

“Agh fuck!” Eddie groaned out loud as he gripped y/n’s waist a bit too roughly. “T-Too much,” y/n moaned as she buried her face into the crook of Eddie’s neck, trying her best to keep quiet, but the feeling of him repeatedly slamming into her cunt was too much to keep in.

“I know, baby- Just keep it up,” Steve said as y/n kept slamming down onto Eddie’s thick and hard cock. “F-Fuck, you’re so wet, y/n,” Eddie groaned with a shake. He has never felt this good in his life.

“Holy shit, Munson- You came,” Steve said as he backed up, watching the cum run out of y/n’s pussy as she continued bouncing on Eddie. The mixture of her and Eddie looked amazing.

Usually, once Steve finishes, he’ll shop, but Eddie? Eddie stopped, lifted y/n up just a little before slamming her down into the couch, before pushing himself back into her.

“Eddie!” Y/n moaned as she placed her hands on Eddie’s lower stomach. “Holy shit!” Steve laughed, watching Eddie become pussy drunk in just one night, but Steve didn’t laugh too much. He knew that once he’d have y/n too, he’d be the same way.

“You made me wait so fucking long, y/n. You know how angry that makes me?” Eddie asked as his hips slammed harder into y/n, causing gasps and cracked whines to exit her mouth instead of moans.

“So fucking long, but it’s fine, baby — A-At least I get to fuck you dumb now,” Eddie said as he grabbed y/n’s neck and leaned down towards her face. She looked amazing. If he weren’t so jealous, she could model for some porno.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous when you’re being fucked. I can’t wait to see what a dick would look like in your slutty mouth!” Eddie spat before smashing his lips onto hers.

Steve's mouth dropped with a chuckle as he watched Eddie’s aggressive behavior. He also loved how y/n lay there and took it. It made him think he definitely had some time to get a load in tonight as well.

Watching them both kiss each other as they moan and rock into each other roughly was only hardening Steve more every second. He loved watching his best friends fuck. It might be his new favorite hobby.

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stevesgother · 8 months ago

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i'll be your mirror - S.H

Pairing - Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

WC - 1.3k

Warnings - depictions of depression/anxiety, depressive episode, self neglect, cursing, mental health themes, non-sexual nudity

Contains - soft boyfriend steve helping you take care of yourself during a depressive episode

AN - man i am just pumpin fics out rn huh? i am NOT having a depressive episode rn, but if u are, ily. take care ~ emma <3

The previously soft flannel of your pillowcase was now stiff with mascara stained tears. A look outside your tiny window informs you that it’s started to snow, and suddenly you can’t remember the last time you left your room, let alone your apartment.

What’s supposedly meant to be the ‘most wonderful time of the year’ for everyone else, for you just feels like drowning in a thick, inky sea. The absence of twinkling, multicolored lights on your walls leaves the room bathed in an intimidating darkness, and you just can’t seem to bring yourself to leave the confines of your bed– it traps and keeps you there, not unlike sticky quicksand in a desert.

The landline that hangs on the wall just right of the kitchen has been ringing for at least a day and a half, whoever it is--consistent. There’s logically only one person it could be. There's only one person who still bothers with you when you’re like this.

You hear the jingling of a spare key being shoved through its matching lock, and the distinct rush of a draft being let in through an open door. There's no effort made to get up– to save face and pretend like you haven’t been rotting in your bed for days– you can’t bring yourself to feel anything other than apathy.

Heavy, booted footfall and the gentle sound of your name being called float through your thin apartment walls as your boyfriend makes his way towards the room you’ve been holed up in.

“Thought I might find you here,” he says as he clicks the door shut behind him, “brought you some soup,” he waves the tupperware container at you in an attempt to make it look enticing, but the sight just makes bile rise in your throat.

“I’m not hungry,” you mumble into the sheets.

“You have to eat, baby,”

This is why you hadn’t been answering his calls. He too sweet for his own good, and you don't feel you deserve him, or his unconditional love for you-- so you just say, “I already ate,”

“You haven’t left this room in days,” he sets the plastic dish on your dresser next to the decaying vase of flowers his mom brought you on Thanksgiving, toes off his shoes and makes his way towards your bed. You feel the mattress dip under his weight, but your head is still buried in your pillow– a poor attempt at disguising how awful you look.

He rubs your back in slow, comforting circles. Steve’s only ever seen you like this a handful of times, and each time, it breaks his heart just a little bit more than the last. He wishes fiercely that there was something more he could do for you– that if he wasn’t able to take the pain from you altogether, then at least maybe he could be miserable with you– but instead, he brings you your favorite comfort foods, and waits with you for the storm to pass.

“I’ve been calling you for a few days,” he says, not unkindly, as he runs his fingers soothingly through your knotted hair, “was worried about you, you know?”

“I know,” you whisper, beginning to feel the sting of guilty tears, “I just didn’t want you to have to take care of me,”

“I want to take care of you,” he says matter-of-factly, “I love you, and I care about how your wellbeing,”

You reply with only a barely noticeable nod.

“How about we take a shower? Or a bath?” he offers, “I could wash your hair for you,”

“I just want to lay here,” you sniffle.

“I know, honey, but you’ll feel better,” he moves to kneel on the floor by your bed, and pushes the hair away from your face that's been plastered there by sticky tears, “I promise. And I’ll be with you the whole time, alright?”

“Okay,” you whisper and he helps you sit up slowly; dizzy from how long you’ve been horizontal. He seals the deal with a gentle kiss pressed to the center of your forehead

–

In the bathroom, he sits you on the closed lid of the toilet and turns the shower faucet on and all the way to the left. While you wait for him to grab you both towels, you reluctantly stand and dare a glimpse at yourself in the mirror. Your hair is matted in places, the bags under your eyes are nearly blue and you've been in the same pajamas for three days too long. You hate how disheveled you look, and you don’t understand how Steve can stand to see you in such a state and still want to be with you. It’s all too much, and you begin to quietly weep.

“Okay, I threw the towels in the–hey,” his tone colored in concern as he reemerges from the hallway and sees you sobbing at your own reflection, “Baby–what’s wrong? C’mon, talk to me,” he says as he tries to sidestep in front of you and block your view of the mirror.

“I just–hate–I don’t–” you struggle to speak through gasps, feeling as though you’re trying to inhale through a straw.

“You have to breathe, sweetheart,” he tells you, this time a little more firmly, “Can you breathe with me?”

He counts for you both as you take synced, exaggerated breaths in increments of three seconds. In three, hold three, out three.

Once your breaths come more evenly, he tries again, “Now tell me what’s got you so upset, huh?”

“I just don’t want you to see me like this,” you tell him between hiccups, your cheeks blotchy and red from your sudden rush of tears.

“See you like what?” He looks genuinely lost, like he can’t comprehend what you could possibly be referring to.

You glimpse down at yourself, “I just look so–”

“--Beautiful?” He interrupts before you get the chance to insult yourself, “Strong? Brave? The most lovely person I’ve ever known? What??” He rambles, exasperatedly trying to understand how you don’t see yourself the way that he does.

You glance sideways back at the mirror, though your view is obscured by Steve’s shoulder now.

“Stop.” You’re startled by the stern clip of his voice, “Stop looking over there, and look at me,” he commands, gentler this time. His calloused hand cups your cheek and he thumbs away the tears that still threaten to spill, “You’re so wonderful, love. And I know you don’t see what I see, so I’m gonna see enough for the both of us, okay?”

“Okay,” you murmur into the cotton shoulder of his t-shirt, one you’re quickly soaking with tears.

“Good, now let’s get you out of these clothes, yeah?” He lifts your arms over your head slowly, just enough to get you out of your soiled shirt.

–

After he washes your hair, and holds you firmly against his chest under the hot spray of water from the showerhead, he coaxes you into the living room to watch a movie with him on the couch.

The Breakfast Club plays quietly on your small, boxy television while you sit cross-legged on the floor in front of Steve. In a fresh pair of pajamas, the twisted and unkind corners of your subconscious feel less daunting. It doesn’t heal you, not really, but it’s a step in the right direction.

You sip on the soup Steve brought you from home–Minestrone, your favorite– as he runs a wide toothed comb through your damp hair.

“Want me to braid it, baby?” He asks.

“If you don’t mind?” You look back at him over your shoulder. He’s so pretty in the glow of the TV– looking down at you like you put the stars in the sky.

“Of course I don’t mind,” he chuckles, “You say the silliest things sometimes,”

And for the first time in days, a smile graces your features.

divider credit to @/enchantingthings-a

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keeryhours · 4 months ago

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teen pregnancy series - steve harrington part 2

Steve Harrington x female! reader

Main Masterlist

Teen Pregnancy Series Masterlist

Steve Harrington Masterlist

Summary:

Part 1

You find yourself pregnant with your best friend Nancy’s boyfriend’s baby after a drunken mistake.

Warnings:

Smut (18+), unprotected p in v, pregnancy, traumatic birth, pregnancy complications, angst

Word Count: 16.4k

A/N:

Please read part 1 first if you haven’t yet! I worked so hard on this one so I’m excited to have the finished thing posted for you guys! Thanks again to the besties @punkrockmlchael @the-witty-pen-name @lesservillain @glassbxttless 💕

Friday came much too soon. You dressed nice for school, not bothering to hide the belly. You wore a little dress that showed off your figure, and a pair of boots. Steve smiled when he saw you, his eyes roaming your body.

“You look beautiful,” he said as you climbed into his car. “They’re probably going to like you more than they like me.”

School had become hell. It helped that Steve had your back. Steve was getting much less shit than you were. In fact, most of the guys at school thought he was something of a legend. But when you were alone, your classmates were vicious.

Someone you never expected to find comfort in was Carol Perkins.

“Talk to her like that again and I’ll kick your ass.”

It was seemingly out of nowhere. One second some kids were making rude comments, then the next thing you knew Carol slid up beside you, linking her arm in yours and telling them off. You were confused as she stepped off with her head held high, taking you with her.

“Um…”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “I’m not gonna let anyone give you shit.”

It wasn’t long before you were spending most every minute of your day with either Carol or Steve. Even Steve was a little skeptical of Carol’s intentions, but she seemed sincere.

And she wasn’t as bad as you, Nancy, and Barb had thought. She was sweet - something you never thought you’d say - and she was funny. And she really did have your back. She even stared down Nancy giving you dirty looks in chem.

After school Friday, you followed Steve out to his car just like every day. Only neither of you were taking this lightly. You’d finally be meeting the Harringtons, and Steve had appropriately scared you for the dinner.

“Just letting you know, they’re awful,” he said, talking with his hands as he drove. “Like, really awful. My dad is an ass. My mom just lets him. It’s a whole thing.”

He was doing nothing to help your ‘meeting the parents’ nerves. “Are they really that bad?”

“They’re pretty bad.” He sighed. “I think they’re trying to make an effort, though. They want you and the baby to be around. They’re actually a little excited for their first grandchild.”

You smiled a little at that, hand resting on your belly. It was evident through your clothes and you didn’t attempt to hide it now. “I hope they like me.”

“They probably will,” he said. “Like I said, probably more than they like me.”

You were surprised at just how nice the Harrington’s house was. Steve pulled into the driveway of a gorgeous two story home with a large pool in the back. He gave you a nervous smile and squeezed your hand like well, here we go.

You walked hand in hand to the front door, Steve letting himself in. The smell of dinner hit you immediately, making your mouth water - was that steak? - and your stomach rumbled.

“Hungry?” Steve laughed.

“Starving,” you admitted.

“Well, good. I’m sure my mom cooked a feast.”

As you walked into the kitchen, a well dressed woman stood over the stove, her hair pulled back tightly. A man in a suit was leaning against the island bar, talking to her. They both looked over as you and Steve walked in, and the woman gave you a polite smile.

“Steve,” she said. “So this must be…”

Steve said your name for you, introducing you to both his parents. “This is my mom and dad.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” his mother said, reaching for your hand. “I’m Melissa.”

You took her hand and smiled politely as you shook it. You waited for his father to introduce himself, but he said nothing. Finally, his mother spoke up again. “And this is Richard, Steve’s father.”

You could feel their gazes drop to your stomach immediately as you dropped your arm. You suddenly wanted to cover up, wishing you had worn the sweatshirt again, but it was too late for that now.

Steve surprised you by reaching over and placing a hand on your stomach, too. He looked at you like you were the only person in the room. “Are you okay?” he asked, quiet enough for only you to hear.

You nodded, giving him a grateful smile. “I’m okay.”

Steve’s hand lingered protectively on your belly for a moment longer before he moved, turning back to face his parents. “So…what’s for dinner?”

Dinner turned out to be steaks, with mashed potatoes and green beans on the side. Your stomach growled with hunger as you eyed the food being placed on the table - eating for two was correct, because you had been infinitely hungrier the past few months.

You all took a seat at the table, Steve’s dad sitting at the head of the table with his wife next to him, Steve on the other side with you at the end of the table. You were so relieved it was time to eat, it distracted you from your nerves as you dug into your plate.

“So,” Steve’s mother began, looking at you. “Steve tells us you’re very smart.”

You blushed, looking over at Steve, who smiled sheepishly at you. “I…I’m in some advanced classes, yes.”

“College plans?” she asked, almost as if she had forgotten about the pregnancy entirely.

Your heart sunk in your chest. “I was planning to go to Emerson. But now…”

An awkward silence settled over the room. The only sounds to be heard were the dishes clinking together as you all ate. It was Steve’s dad who spoke next. “What do the two of you plan to do about all this?” he asked, getting straight to the point as he gestured between you and Steve.

You froze again, but Steve spoke up. “What do you mean, dad?”

“I mean,” he said, looking sternly at both of you. “I don’t think either of you understand the gravity of the situation you’re in.” He looked at you. “You’re an only child, yes?”

“Yes,” you confirmed.

“And so are you,” he said to Steve. “So, what do either of you know about babies? And how hard it will be to take care of one?”

No one said anything. You weren’t sure if there was anything to be said to that.

“Not only that,” he continued, “but how will you support yourselves and a baby?”

He was asking questions you truly didn’t know the answer to. “I was thinking I could-“ Steve began, but his father cut him off.

“Thinking you could work for me?”

“Well, yeah,” he said. “We had talked about it-“

“Son, you’re welcome to come work with me. But you’re on your own. This child is your responsibility, I expect you to take care of both the baby and her.”

Steve looked at you. He reached over the table and took your hand. “I can do that.”

His father nodded. “Good.” Another beat of silence. “Do you both plan to finish school?”

“Yes,” you said quickly. “The baby won’t be born until after graduation, so…”

“Yeah, we’re both going to finish the year,” Steve said. He looked at you. “She still wants to go to college, maybe…after the baby is born,”

You nodded. “Yeah…if I can.”

“That’s good,” Steve’s mother said, giving you a smile. “I’m glad you have big dreams and ambitions.”

You weren’t sure if she was proud of you, or thought you were naive. “Community college, at least.”

“How far along are you?” she asked.

“15 weeks.”

Steve’s parents’ eyes widened. “Almost halfway there,” his mom said, her voice nervous. “We didn’t realize it was that far along.”

Steve’s hand rested on your knee beneath the table.

“She’s been taking good care of herself,” he said. “Going to all her appointments, taking her vitamins.”

“Well that’s the bare minimum, isn’t it, son?” his dad said.

Steve clenched his jaw. He looked like he wanted to argue, but didn’t. “She’s doing a good job.”

“Look, son,” he said. “There’s a lot more to having a baby than just having it. You have to worry about diapers, formula if she doesn’t or can’t breastfeed, clothes and supplies-“

“Dad, I know.”

“I don’t know that you do.” His father’s stern voice commanded the entire room. You felt extremely uncomfortable. “I can’t believe you, son. You’re a Harrington. And look at the mess you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“Richard-“ his mother said, but he kept talking as if she hadn’t said anything.

“You’re barely 18 years old. Still in high school. And now you’ve got some girl pregnant?” You felt so small at that - some girl - you shrunk into yourself, wishing you could disappear.

“Dad.”

“No, Steve, I don’t want to hear it. You’ve disgraced this family. You’ve embarrassed not only me, but your poor mother as well. Do you know how you’re being talked about down at the clubhouse? It’s humiliating for both me and your mother.”

Steve gripped his fork tightly. He thought about stabbing it into his father’s hand. “Those people do nothing but gossip anyway-“

“Steven!” he snapped. Steve jumped at the sound of his government name, feeling like a child again as he shrunk under the harsh gaze of his father. “You are not to talk to me that way. Do you want a job with me to take care of your little family or not?”

Silence. “I do.”

“Then act like it.”

“Yes, sir.”

It was almost disturbing to see Steve give up like that. You felt terrible for him - your dad hadn’t taken the pregnancy news well, but neither of your parents were strict. Not like this. The silence left behind after that exchange was deafening.

If you hadn’t been pregnant and starving, you would have lost your appetite. Instead you cleared your plate, and could have gone for seconds if someone offered. After dinner you helped Mrs. Harrington clean up, washing the dishes alongside her - which seemed to earn her approval. You could hear a heated conversation between Steve and his father muffled from the living room.

Once the dishes had been done and the dining room and kitchen were spotless, Steve’s parents told you goodbye. “Thank you for coming to dinner,” Mrs. Harrington said. “We enjoyed having you.” Mr. Harrington said nothing.

“Thank you for having me,” you said. You smiled at them, feeling their eyes once again on your stomach now that you were standing. It was something you were having to get used to in general. Everyone looked.

When Steve placed his hand on your back and led you out of the house and into the fresh air of the night, you took a deep breath that you’d needed for hours. “Well. Glad that’s over.”

Steve laughed, opening the passenger door for you. He took your hand to help you lower yourself into the seat. “Told you they were bad.”

He climbed into the driver’s seat and shut the door. “Yeah, your dad was an asshole,” you said. It made him laugh again.

As he started the engine and began driving back towards your house, a silence settled, although this was a much more comfortable one. Eventually he reached over and took your hand in his, which surprised you but you weren’t complaining. It was just friendly. Nothing romantic between you.

“I’m glad you came,” he said. “Even though they seemed like assholes-“

“Your mom was fine!”

“-believe me,” he continued, “you earned points in their book for even having the balls to show up and take their shit.”

You smiled. “You really think they didn’t hate me?”

“Oh, they loved you. That’s just how they show it.”

It wasn’t long before the BMW pulled up outside your home. The lights were on inside, casting a warm glow over the yard. “Want me to walk you in?” Steve asked.

“Sure.”

Steve followed you up the walkway and to the door, his hand resting on your back as if you might hurt yourself without his help. You entered the house to find both of your parents in the living room, watching TV.

“Steve!” your mother said. “How are you?”

“I’m doing well,” he said. “Just making sure she gets home safely.”

“Well, we appreciate that.” Your mom smiled. Steve gave you a tight hug, one that you were surprised by. He hadn’t been this affectionate with you.

“I’ll see you later,” he said. You watched as he turned and left, feeling like he was taking a piece of you with him, too. You wanted to reach for him, to grasp his hand and bring him back, bring him upstairs and to your room. It wasn’t even sex you were after (although being pregnant had made you super horny), but even just to be held. Steve made you feel safe, cared for.

But you couldn’t do that. It would be weird, for one. It was weird enough that you wanted him in that way. You went upstairs and took your shower before settling into bed - drifting off to thoughts of Steve.

—

Things were getting easier. Well, for the most part. You were 18 weeks pregnant now, bump perfectly round and visible in all your clothes, even the sweatshirt now. Steve never left your side, taking your safety as the most important thing.

You and Carol had grown tight, too. The most unlikely friendship turned out to be the best. Carol was amazing. She was like having Scary Dog Privileges. No one dared fuck with her, or you, now.

“Wheeler is a stuck up bitch,” Carol said as you passed Nancy giving you the dirtiest look once again. “Don’t mind her.”

“I just…feel bad,” you muttered, holding your books tight to your chest. “I did kind of fuck her over.”

Carol shrugged. “Shit happens. They weren’t gonna last anyway.”

“You don’t think?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

“Oh, definitely not.” She scoffed. “Harrington thought she was the best thing to ever happen to him, but they would have been over by graduation.”

“Why?”

“Well, they just weren’t right for each other, for one.” She pushed a red curl behind her ear. “Harrington never could have been happy with her long term. She’s too…goody goody.”

It was true. You’d never seen Nancy break a rule in her life.

“You, however,” she said, giving you a playful smirk, “would be perfect for him.”

You blushed deeply. “That’s not true. He doesn’t even like me in that way.”

“Sure,” she said, looking at you with a smile that said she knew something you didn’t.

After school on the way home with Steve, he seemed like he had something on his mind. It wasn’t like Steve to not be chatting you up on the way home, telling you every detail of his day and asking you a million questions about how you and the baby felt. He tapped his fingers nervously on the steering wheel, eyes locked on the road.

“…What’s up?” you finally asked, having had enough of the silence.

Steve looked over at you like you’d surprised him. “What do you mean?”

“You look like you have something on your mind,” you said. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Yeah, yeah I know.” He tapped his fingers along with the song on the radio. “I was just thinking…”

“About what?”

Steve sighed. “I was just…so, we’re having a baby together, right?”

“Yeah…?”

“And most people who have a baby together are…you know, together.”

You just looked at him. “What are you saying?”

He sighed again, hands tightening on the steering wheel. “I’m saying…maybe we should try being together? Like, a couple?” He glanced over at you. “For the baby, of course,” he added quickly.

“Steve…”

“No, it’s okay. It was a stupid idea.”

You felt conflicted. On one hand, you wanted to be with Steve, something you hadn’t even realized about yourself. You wanted to try this. But you knew Steve was only asking for the baby’s sake, not because he liked you in any kind of way. And not to even mention how Nancy would feel about it. You cared a lot about how Nancy felt. It was almost like you thought there was any chance of salvaging your friendship.

“It’s not stupid,” you said quietly. “It’s just…Nancy…”

“No, no, yeah. You’re totally right.” He gestured with his hand, drawing a clear line. “We’re just co-parents. That’s all.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. The car fell into an awkward silence. You felt bad. You wanted to take it back, to tell Steve you wanted to be with him. You wanted to kiss him on the mouth and be touched like he’d touched you that one night. You wanted to do those things with him again. You wanted him to love you.

The BMW pulled up outside your house, but you didn’t get out right away. You debated saying something about it, changing your mind and telling Steve you liked him, but he spoke first.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I even brought that up,” he said. “It’s not like…I mean, we aren’t interested in each other in that way anyway, right? It was a dumb idea. Just forget about it.”

His words struck you in the chest, making your heart ache. You had started to suspect that maybe Steve did like you, but his words put an end to those silly thoughts. How could he? You were nothing like Nancy, not really, despite being her best friend for many years. Nancy was better than you in every way.

“Yeah,” you said. “It’s fine, I know you didn’t mean it or anything.”

Something crossed Steve’s face, but he didn’t say anything else. “Call me if you need anything, yeah?” he said instead, the same thing he said most times he dropped you off.

“Okay. I will.” You climbed out of the car, holding your emotions inside as you reached your front door and unlocked it with your key. You turned to see Steve still waiting there, watching to make sure you got inside safely. It only made it hurt worse, the way you wished you could run into his arms and kiss him like you’d dreamed of since that night. But you couldn’t. He wasn’t yours.

He wasn’t yours.

—

You had been counting down to the 20 week appointment since you first accepted the pregnancy and allowed yourself to feel excited. It was the big one - the anatomy scan, where they’d see if everything was progressing the way it should, and if you were having a boy or a girl.

Steve was buzzing with excitement when he picked you up that morning. He handed you a hot chocolate from your favorite place as you got into the car.

“What’s the occasion?” you teased with a smile.

“You know what’s the occasion,” he laughed. “Are you as excited as I am?”

“I don’t know, that’s tough to beat.”

Steve had been talking about it even more than you had. He had a calendar where he was crossing off every day until your due date, and to this appointment. He was probably the most involved dad you’d ever seen, and the baby wasn’t even here yet.

“My mom’s meeting us at the doctor’s office after school,” you said. “She wanted to be there.”

“My mom asked if she could come.”

Your eyes widened. “She did?”

“Yeah.” He started driving to school. “I told her I didn’t think it was a good idea.”

“Why?”

“Would you have wanted her there?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“I mean…” you thought. “I wouldn’t have minded, I don’t think.”

“Really?”

“Well, she is the baby’s grandmother…”

Those words fell heavily onto Steve’s shoulders. “Yeah.”

“But maybe we can tell them in a fun way. Get a little cake or something.”

Steve smiled at you before he turned back to the road. “That’s cute. Yeah, we could do that. I’m sure she’d like it.”

“After the appointment,” you said, “we’ll stop at the bakery.”

The school day really dragged by. You were so excited to get out of there and go to your appointment, every class felt like it was 5 hours long. Steve felt the same way, complaining through the whole day and all of lunch.

“I just wanna knooow,” he whined, leaning back in his seat in the cafeteria. “Like, we’ve been waiting so long.”

“Oh my god, Harrington, we get it,” Tommy said, rolling his eyes. “We get that you’re excited about your kid.”

“Oh, stop,” Carol said, shoving Tommy’s arm. “Let them be excited. It’s exciting.” She gave you a reassuring smile and squeezed your hand. “You guys talk about it as much as you want to.”

Tommy scoffed. “Really? You’re outnumbering me?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Sorry, Hagan, majority rules,” Steve teased. “I get to talk about my kid all day. You’re just jealous, anyway.”

“Jealous?” Tommy said, incredulous, his mouth dropping open. “I am not jealous you’re having a kid in high school.”

“Sure, sure.”

After lunch, you and Carol walked to your lockers together like you did every day. Only she passed hers, following you all the way to yours and leaning against the closed one next to you.

“Can I go with you?” she asked.

You furrowed your brow, slowing as you took books out of your locker. “Go with me where?”

“To your doctor’s appointment, silly?” she popped her bubblegum, looking at you like the question was obvious. “Can I come?”

“You- why?”

“Because it’s exciting!” she squealed, grabbing your arms. You caught the attention of Nancy and Barb from across the hallway, who both gave you dirty looks. Carol didn’t even notice them. “I wanna find out if I’m gonna be auntie to a little boy or a girl. I think it’s a girl.”

You hadn’t even realized Carol cared so much about your pregnancy. “I…I mean, yeah, you can come.”

“Yes!” she cheered. “I can’t wait to be able to go shopping. I’m gonna spoil them so much, you have no idea.”

After school, Steve surprised you by your locker, making you jump and place a hand over your belly. “Jesus, Steve.”

“Sorry,” he said. “But are you excited? Are you ready to go?”

You closed the locker with all your stuff in it, turning the dial to lock it. “Yes. I’m ready. Carol’s coming, too.”

He looked like he might have a question about that, but he shrugged his shoulders instead. “Okay. The more the merrier.”

Nancy and Barb watched as Steve placed a hand on your round belly, 20 weeks now and no longer fitting into any of your old clothes. Your mom had taken you out shopping for some maternity clothes, which you rejected at first because they all looked like old lady clothes. Ultimately you ended up in a pair of maternity jeans with a stretchy band in the front, and a wardrobe of Steve’s t-shirts he so graciously let you borrow, just oversized enough to fit over the belly.

He didn’t care who was watching as he took the minute to rub his large hand over your stomach, smiling at you with such affection it made your heart beat fast. “I’m really excited,” he said, just loud enough for you to hear. “This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Your heart swelled. You wanted to say something -

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Your own thoughts shocked you. Where did that come from?

“I’m excited too,” you said instead. Your hand rested on top of his. You could practically feel Nancy and Barb burning a hole into the back of your head. Steve didn’t even notice them. He just smiled back at you.

“Let’s go,” he said. He put his hand on your lower back and guided you out of the building, not caring if anyone was looking (they were). Carol was waiting by the car, her face breaking out into a huge grin when you and Steve approached. Tommy stood beside her, looking much less excited.

“This is so exciting!” Carol squealed, grabbing your hands. “It’s a girl, I know it.”

“I think it’s a boy,” Tommy muttered, and you smiled - seems like he was more invested than he let on.

“You just want to be his favorite,” Carol said, elbowing him in the ribs.

“We’re gonna follow you,” Tommy said, swinging his keys around his finger. “So whenever you guys are ready.”

Steve helped you get into the passenger seat - you needed a little help these days. He got into the driver’s seat and turned some music on, pulling out of the school parking lot. Tommy’s car followed.

At the office, your mom’s car was waiting right out front. She smiled when she saw you, but you could tell she was feeling emotional. She pulled you into a hug when you got out of the car, holding you close.

“Still can’t believe my baby is having a baby,” she said, sniffling. You hugged her back tightly. Becoming a mother yourself opened your eyes to a lot of things about your own mother.

Your entourage took up a lot of room in the tiny waiting room. Steve sat on one side of you, your mom on the other, and Tommy and Carol across from you. When the nurse called you back, they all followed. The nurse seemed a little surprised, but didn’t say anything.

She did your vitals first, taking your temperature and blood pressure. She looked a little concerned as she took the blood pressure cuff off. “Have you had high blood pressure before?”

You looked up at her, confused. “No.”

“Hm.” She wrote something down in your chart. Steve looked instantly terrified, looking between you to the nurse to your mother, who looked equally as nervous.

“Is that bad?” Steve asked.

“The doctor will discuss it with you,” the nurse said politely, which did not satisfy Steve whatsoever, but he didn’t press the subject.

Steve stayed right by your side as you waddled into the exam room, your mom and friends following behind you. Steve helped you up onto the exam table. You cradled your belly in your arms, feeling the immense love for the tiny little baby already.

It wasn’t long before the ultrasound technician came in, wheeling an ultrasound machine. An external one this time, thank god. “Good afternoon!” she said, giving a huge smile to everyone in the room. “I see we have a party going on in here.”

She instructed you to pull your shirt up as she prepared the machine. She squirted the cold gel onto your belly, pressing the wand hard into your skin and moving it around as she tried to find a good view of the baby. Steve sat right next to you, holding your hand tightly. His eyes were glued to the screen. Everyone’s were.

The small baby popped up on the screen, looking more like a baby than you’d ever seen it. It was real, it felt real - that was a baby. Your baby. Yours and Steve’s. A little Harrington.

Steve’s free hand shot up and covered his mouth as he took in the sight of his child on the screen. Tears welled in his eyes, and he was shaking. He squeezed your hand, and you squeezed his back. Your mom had also started crying, Carol watching with her hand over her chest, even Tommy was moved.

The tech took measurements of every body part, logging them in your chart. Everyone just watched the process, watching the baby moving around on the screen until the moment you’d all been waiting for finally came.

“Do you want to know the gender?” she asked, smiling at each person in the room.

“Yes!” you and Steve both said together. You looked at each other, Steve smiling and a giggle escaping your lips.

“Alright then,” the tech smiled. She moved the wand, then wrote something in the chart again. “You’re having a baby girl.”

The whole room erupted into excitement. But when Steve looked at you, it was like you were the only two people in the room.

“A daughter,” he said, like he was in awe. “We’re having a daughter.”

“Yeah, we are,” you said as the tears finally fell down your cheeks. Steve reached up and wiped them away with his thumb.

“I can’t believe it,” he whispered. “This is the best day of my life. So far.”

That made your heart soar. You squeezed his hand again, and he held yours with both of his, bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing it. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for this. This is the best gift I ever could have hoped for.”

“Steve…” you said, tears falling even faster now.

“Don’t cry, please.” He wiped your tears away again. “Just…thank you.”

After the ultrasound, the tech left and you were left waiting for the doctor. The room was buzzing with excitement over the news, everyone talking all at once.

“I can’t believe I’m having a granddaughter,” your mom said, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. “Reminds me of when I was pregnant with you.”

You imagined what it might be like one day to be supporting your daughter - the one growing in your belly now, this tiny little creature. It was hard to imagine her as a real human being who would grow into her own person one day. You hoped she wouldn’t be having a baby in high school, at least.

“Yeah, well,” Steve said, “if any guy comes within 100 feet of her I’m beating him with a stick.”

“Ohmygod,” Carol said. “We have to go shopping. There’s so much cute stuff for baby girls. Do you have anything yet?”

“Not really,” you admitted. You had been mostly waiting for this appointment - it’s like it hadn’t felt real before. Now, it was real.

“That’s okay,” she said. “We’ll go get all kinds of stuff.”

Steve rubbed your belly as everyone kept talking, like he was in his own little world. Just him and his baby girl, moving beneath his palm. The movements were soothing, relaxing you.

Finally the doctor walked in, greeting everyone with a smile. She scanned through your chart before speaking. “I see you had some high blood pressure today.”

“Yeah,” you said. “I’ve never had that before.”

“We’re going to keep an eye on that,” she said. “I want to see you here again next week, okay?”

“Next week?” you asked, confused. Your appointments had been monthly until now.

“Yes,” she said. “High blood pressure can be a sign of a lot of things, some small and some big. I just want to keep an eye on it.”

“Is everything okay?” Steve asked, interrupting the conversation. “Is she okay? Is the baby?”

“There’s no reason to worry right now,” she said, trying to calm Steve. “If there’s something more serious going on, we’ll catch it.”

Steve begrudgingly accepted that answer. He wasn’t trying to be a total asshole, he was just scared. But the appointment concluded after that, and then all of you were walking out of the building together.

“I’ll see you at home, honey,” your mom said, giving you a tight hug. “Drive home safe,” she added, pointing to Steve.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, saluting.

“I’ll call you,” Carol said, pulling you into a hug. “Love you.”

When only you and Steve were left, he helped you into the car again. He started driving towards town. “How are you feeling? About all of this?”

“I’m happy,” you said, hand rubbing the bump. “Really happy,”

Steve shot you a smile before turning back to the road. “Me too.”

He pulled into the parking lot of the bakery. Inside you ordered two cupcakes with pink filling, ready for Steve’s parents to discover the news. It was hard not to take a bite as you left the bakery.

“I can pick you up tomorrow to come have dinner with us and…you know, tell them,” he said.

“Okay,” you agreed. You held the cupcakes safely on your lap as he drove you back home.

Your house wasn’t far. Your mom had had to go back to work and your didn’t hadn’t gotten off yet, so it was empty. Steve came in with you, following you as you deposited the cupcakes in the kitchen and then up to your bedroom, carrying your bag for you. He dropped it by the end of your bed where you always sat it. It was weird how he’d started to know you so well.

He approached you, placing both hands on your belly. It was so natural for him now, it was his favorite thing to do. He got down to his knees in front of you so he was face level with your belly.

“Hi, baby girl,” he said. Your heart thudded hard in your chest - he had never done something like this before. “I’m your daddy.” He rubbed a hand across your stomach, caressing it lovingly. “I love you very much already. Did you know that? I can’t wait to meet you.”

Tears sprung to your eyes. You quickly wiped them away, watching the moment between Steve and - your daughter.

“You be good for your momma, okay?” he continued. “She’s working hard growing you and finishing school at the same time. She’s the coolest. You’re going to love her.”

You could feel her wiggling around, kicking at Steve’s hand. His eyes went wide- “Did she just kick me??”

You laughed, amazed. “Yeah, I think she did.”

Steve was smiling so big, his own eyes welling with tears. He kissed your belly, rubbing where he had felt the kick. “I love you. I love you so much.”

When Steve stood again, he looked happy. So happy. It made your heart swell, too.

“I guess I gotta get going,” he said, looking like he absolutely did not want to go. “Still under curfew, and all.”

“Okay,” you begrudgingly agreed. You found yourself wanting to spend more time with Steve - and you already spent just about all your time together. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Steve’s face brightened at that reminder. “Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

He surprised you when he pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly while still being careful of the bump. It felt like a loss when he pulled away, and then he was leaving, taking a piece of you with him.

—

The next day, Steve picked you up for dinner just as planned. You had the cupcakes ready to go. You were nervous, your hands shook as you buckled your seatbelt. Steve could sense your anxiety immediately, reaching over and taking your hand.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay. They’re gonna be happy. The hard part is over.”

You tried to keep that in mind during the ride there. You were extra careful with the cupcakes, not allowing even a smidge of icing to be messed up. At the Harrington’s Steve came around and took them from you before helping you get up.

Inside the house smelled delicious once again. Roasted chicken this time, with potatoes and greens. Mrs. Harrington smiled as the two of you walked into the kitchen.

She greeted you by name, walking around the island bar to hold your hand in both of hers. “How are you feeling, darling? How’s the little one?”

“Good, and good,” you answered both her questions. She surprised you by placing a hand on your belly - you had yet to have anyone but Steve do that. It felt strange.

“What are these?” she asked, gesturing to the two boxes in Steve’s hand.

“We brought cupcakes…to announce the gender,” you explained.

“How cute!” She took them from Steve carefully, sitting them on the counter. “Richard should be down any minute now.”

Mr. Harrington came down the stairs as you were helping Mrs. Harrington set the table. He looked stern and unfriendly as ever, still dressed nicely in a button down and slacks. He greeted you shortly.

“Should we go ahead and do the reveal before dinner?” Mrs. Harrington asked. “I don’t think I can wait.”

“Sure, we can,” you said. Steve handed one of the boxes to his father and the other to his mom. The opened them, revealing the cutely decorated cupcakes with white icing and a baby rattle on top.

“Ready?” Steve asked.

They took the small decoration off and peeled the paper from around the sweet bread. They exchanged a look before they bit into their cupcakes at the same time.

Mrs. Harrington lit up when she saw the pink filling, squealing and throwing her arms around Steve first, then you. “A granddaughter!!”

Mr. Harrington had…no reaction. In fact, he almost seemed displeased. “You knock a girl up and you couldn’t even have a son to carry on the Harrington name?”

Silence. “Dad-“

Mr. Harrington held a hand up, silencing Steve. But nothing more was said as everyone sat down to dinner in the awkward silence.

It was uncomfortable. Mr. Harrington was a total asshole, and his wife just let him without saying a word, leading to awkward moments like these. You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know if there was anything to say.

When you and Steve left, he was apologetic. “I’m so sorry. He’s such an ass. I’m really sorry he ruined the whole thing.”

You shook your head as you climbed into the car. “It’s not your fault, Steve.”

“I know. It just…feels like it reflects back on me.”

“What do you mean?” you asked him as he began the drive home.

“Just that…it feels like people think I’m an asshole just like him. Or that I will be one day. And it’s embarrassing.”

You took his hand. “Steve, you’re nothing like your dad.”

He let out a long breath. “God. Thank you. For saying that.”

“Seriously,” you continued. “Nothing like him. You’re kind, and sweet, and caring, loyal, funny, reliable-“

“You think all those things about me?” Steve asked, goofy grin on his handsome face.

You blushed deeply. “I…”

“I think you’re great, too.” His eyes were on the road now. “The best, even. I wouldn’t want to be doing this with anyone else.”

“Not even Nancy?”

The question hung in the air for a moment. “No. Not even Nancy.”

You wanted to say it then - I love you. But it didn’t come. You tried to work up the courage, but before you had the chance to, the car was coming to a stop outside your house.

Neither of you said anything at first, neither daring to move. Steve opened his mouth to say something, but just closed it again instead. He turned to you and gave you a smile that seemed rather forced.

“I’ll see you Monday,” he said. “Take care of yourself and our little nugget.”

“I will,” you agreed. You waited to see if he would say something else, but he didn’t. So you opened the door and climbed out (with some difficulty) and walked into your house.

Up in your room that night, you thought. You had much to think about, and your mind wouldn’t shut the fuck up. You were about to resort to counting sheep when your phone rang on your bedside table.

You snatched it off the receiver, hoping to hear one particular voice only. “Hello?”

“Uh, hey.” Just as if you had manifested it, Steve’s voice came from the other line.

“Hey,” you said, smiling like an idiot because he couldn’t see you. “What’s up?”

“I just…” he sighed. “I couldn’t sleep. And I wanted to talk to you.”

Butterflies took flight in your stomach and chest. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled lightly to himself. “I don’t have anything else. I didn’t exactly plan this far, I just picked up the phone.”

You couldn’t stop smiling. “What are you doing?”

“Just laying in bed…was trying to sleep, but…yeah.”

“I couldn’t sleep either,” you said. You didn’t admit that you had been longing to call him and hear his voice just as bad as he had for you.

“Are you uncomfortable?”

“A little.” You rubbed your belly beneath your loose sleep shirt.

“Is there anything I can do to help? Anything I can get?”

You thought for a minute, smile on your lips. “Maybe one of those giant pregnancy pillows.”

“You got it.”

The baby kicked hard, and you moved your hand to where she was, letting out a little “Ooh.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you said. “She’s just really active tonight.”

“Maybe she misses her dad.”

“Maybe she does.” There was a moment of silence over the line.

“Do you have any name ideas?” Steve asked out of the blue.

“Oh,” you said, question catching you off guard. “I haven’t really let myself think about it yet.”

“I like Elizabeth,” he offered. “Ellie.”

“That’s really cute.” You were surprised at how much you liked the name, since it was the first one either of you had brought up.

“Maybe Danielle.”

“I like that too, but I like Ellie better.”

“Me too.” You could hear the smile in Steve’s voice. “Elizabeth Harrington.”

Harrington. Your daughter will be a Harrington. You didn’t love the idea of having a different last name than her, but you didn’t want to revisit your dad’s insistence to get married.

“Elizabeth ‘Ellie’ Harrington. I like it.” You smiled too, but your heart was beating rapidly in your chest. It was hard to believe this little creature you’d been carrying around was a human being with a whole name and everything.

“What about her middle name?”

You thought. “Maybe Louise? After my grandmother?”

“Perfect. I love it.” Steve sounded infinitely happier than he had when you’d picked up the phone. He yawned, which made you yawn, too.

“I guess I’m gonna actually try to go to bed,” he said reluctantly. “Talking to you helped.”

“Glad I could be of service.” You twirled the phone cord around your finger. “I guess I should go to sleep, too.”

“Did talking to me make you feel better?

Yet another smile grew on your lips. “Yeah. It did.”

“Good. I’ll talk to you later. Goodnight.” The way your name sounded when it left his lips had you aching for him. In any way.

But instead you hung up the phone, wishing Steve was here with you instead of in his own house. You wished he was here to hold you, to cuddle you to sleep and keep you safe. You drifted asleep to thoughts of Steve in bed behind you.

—

“I can’t believe we’re graduating in 2 weeks,” Carol said, flipping through the racks of dresses. “It’s finally over.”

“Finally,” you agreed, because you were equally ready to be done with the halls of Hawkins High. Especially at 27 weeks, just about in the third trimester and absolutely huge. You waddled through the store behind Carol, your back aching horribly.

“Ooh, this one’s cute,” she said, pulling a white dress off the rack. You remembered a time when you could still fit in anything besides maternity clothes.

“That would look really good on you!” And you knew it was the truth. But everything looked good on Carol.

“We need to find you something,” she said. “You’ve got to look hot.”

“I don’t think that’s possible at this point,” you said, gesturing to the bump.

“It’s definitely possible. You are hot.” Carol looked at you like this was obvious information. “We’re gonna find you a dress you feel beautiful in. I promise.”

After Carol decided on a dress, you moved on to a maternity store. Once again, the majority of the selection was, for lack of a better description, old lady clothes. You felt dejected as you and Carol looked through the racks, Carol scrunching her nose up at most of the options.

Until finally, she gasped, pulling out a white dress with lace over the bodice. “Oh, this is the one.”

It was pretty. You took it from her hands and examined it. You couldn’t believe how pretty it was, in this store surrounded by the ugliest clothes you’d ever seen. But here it was. “I need to try it on first.”

You weren’t hopeful as you and Carol walked to the changing rooms, and you especially weren’t hopeful as you undressed and saw yourself in the mirror. Your body had changed so much. It was unrecognizable. You felt self conscious constantly, like you were this huge fucking planet walking around and drawing everyone’s attention, and not in a good way.

You forced yourself to turn away and slip the dress over your head. It fit surprisingly well, hugging your breasts and chest tightly before flowing down over the bump. It stopped about at your knees. It did look really nice on you, you had to admit. It accentuated the bump in a flattering way, more like look how cute I am! than I’m trying to hide this huge thing under my clothes.

You stepped out of the changing room, and Carol gasped, clapping her hands together in approval. “Oh, this is the one, baby. You’re getting this one.”

The confidence this dress gave you made you feel as if you were glowing, the way they always said pregnant women did. You were disappointed to change back into your own clothes, but when you took the dress to the counter and bought it, it made you feel better.

Maybe graduation wouldn’t be so bad after all.

—

The day of graduation, you were 29 weeks, everything was swollen and you were in pain. You were in a bad mood as your mom helped you get ready. You were already in your dress, doing your makeup in the mirror as your mom styled your hair for you.

“It’s going to be fine,” your mom said. “You’re gonna walk across that stage, get your diploma, and be done with it. And you have Steve and Carol with you.”

That was true. It was the only thing that made you feel better. You were humiliated at the thought of having to walk the stage with your huge belly, everyone knowing who you were and what you did. How you got here.

Steve came and picked you up since you didn’t want to be alone, your parents driving on their own in time for the ceremony. As graduates, you had to be there early. Steve held your hand the drive there, like he could sense how scared you were. Maybe it was obvious.

Carol pulled you into a tight hug when you and Steve entered the gymnasium, all set up with a stage and lots of seating. “You look beautiful. I knew you would.”

You blushed. “Thanks, Carol.”

“You do,” Steve agreed. With the way he was looking at you you could tell he was genuine. In fact, he was looking at you like you were the only person in the room full of a hundred Hawkins High graduates. It made your heart beat fast. His hand rested on your cheek, gently caressing the skin. You both totally forgot about Carol and Tommy standing right next to you, forgot that you were embarrassed to be here. All

there was was Steve, and god, you wanted to kiss him-

“Isn’t this sweet?”

Your stomach dropped.

“Nancy,” you said, turning and seeing her standing there, looking beautiful as she always did. Barb stood next to her, looking uncomfortable.

“What do you want, Wheeler?” Carol asked, her usual attitude back. The one you did not want to be on the other side of again.

“Just wanted to congratulate the new parents,” she said mockingly. “It’s almost time now, isn’t it?”

You didn’t know what to say. You knew she was being facetious, she didn’t actually care about the state of your pregnancy or the baby. But it was still so strange to have Nancy talking to you this way. Your long time best friend, the sweetest person you knew, turned into this.

“Yeah,” Steve said. “It is.”

“Are you two together yet?” she asked. “Or has Steve gone and knocked up another slut?”

“Oh, you bitch,” Carol said, pushing through to stand right in Nancy’s face. “Why don’t you go find Byers? You two have been getting pretty cozy even since before you and Steve broke up.”

Nancy’s jaw dropped. “You-“

“Nancy, I think you should go,” Steve said, stepping between the girls to put an end to this fight before it got out of hand. “You aren’t actually here to talk, so just go.”

She looked at Steve then with so much hurt in her eyes, you felt guilty all over again. “Sure, Steve. I hope you’re happy.”

Barbara put a hand on her back as they walked away, and you let out a deep breath. Steve pulled you into a hug, rubbing your back. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed. “I just feel like the biggest backstabber on the planet.”

Steve sighed. He laid his head on top of yours. “You’re not a bad person, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. You knew it was just friendly, but the sound of the nickname gave you goosebumps anyway. You wanted so badly to tilt your head up and look into his deep brown eyes, to-

“Alright, everyone, we’re getting started! Get to your assigned places!”

Steve reluctantly pulled away from you with his hands on your upper arms. He looked you over again, his face creased with concern. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” you assured him. “Now let’s go graduate.”

The ceremony was long and boring. You waited your turn until Principal Higgins reached your name on the alphabetical list, then you stood, smoothed your dress down over your belly, and walked to the stage with confidence.

You could hear your parents, Steve, Tommy, and Carol cheering for you louder than anyone. You blushed, but couldn’t wipe the smile off your face. Principal Higgins handed you your diploma with a smile and a “Well done,” and that was that. You exited the stage and went back to your seat, watching the remaining students graduate.

When you tossed your hat into the air at the end of the ceremony, you felt more emotions than you’d expected to. School was really over. You couldn’t even remember a time before you were in school - it had been your whole life, and now it was over. Now you had much bigger, scarier things headed your way.

Steve’s parents threw a huge graduation party for him, and were kind enough to make it a joint party for the two of you (at Steve’s insistence). There were a lot of guests, lots of Steve’s family you didn’t know and a lot of friends and acquaintances from school. You were glad Tommy and Carol were there.

You entertained yourself with the buffet table - still very much eating for two, after all. Steve stayed by your side, introducing you to his distant family members. They all looked at your belly before they met your eyes. You had grown used to that treatment.

“I’m really proud of you,” Steve said when the two of you caught a moment alone. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but I think it’s really impressive that you finished school with…everything going on.”

You shook your head. “It’s really not that impressive.”

“It is, and you should be proud of yourself.” Steve looked at you for a minute. He stepped closer to you, his hand coming to rest on the side of your face. He caressed your cheek, his eyes staring deeply into yours. Your heart stuttered in your chest - were you even still breathing? He parted his lips, moving closer and closer.

He pressed his lips to your forehead, leaving a lingering kiss there. Your heart sunk - you felt like an idiot for thinking that he had feelings for you, that he was going to kiss you. Your cheeks heated with embarrassment, even though Steve had no idea what you’d been thinking he was about to do.

You spent the rest of the party feeling like an absolute fool for wishing for something that would never happen.

At the end of the party, Steve and Carol both gave you a big hug. Even Tommy joined in. Besides your own angst, it was hard not to smile when you were surrounded by these people you loved - your found family.

You rode home in the passenger seat of your mom’s car, your dad sitting in the back to give you the extra space. You watched out the window, and you thought not about your high school career coming to an end, or the baby on the way, or the situation with Nancy and Barb. You thought about Steve.

Steve, Steve, Steve.

—

You put the brochure down in front of Steve. “I signed us up.”

He picked up the paper, examining it. “‘Lamaze’? What the fuck is Lamaze?”

“It’s a birthing class,” you said, although you thought he would have gotten the hint from the pictures of smiling pregnant women and dads on the front.

“A birthing class?”

“Yes, Steve. I’m 32 weeks pregnant. This baby is coming soon, and I want to be ready.” Truth be told, you were terrified. Any amount of preparation would be better than your current state.

“I- we just- well, yeah,” he said, stumbling over his words. “It’s just-“

“What?”

Steve let out a deep breath. “It’s really coming soon, huh?” You softened as you could physically feel the anxiety radiating off his form where he sat across from you at the diner. He was jittery, bouncing his leg and fiddling with his hands.

“Yeah. Really soon,” you said, not mincing any words. “But we’ve got this. We’ve had months to prepare, we have a couple more to go. The baby has been healthy, I’ve been healthy besides the blood pressure. We have the big stuff - crib, stroller, car seat. The baby shower is in 3 weeks. We’re doing okay.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re doing okay.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

“We just need to be ready for the birth, you know?” you continued. “Neither of us has ever done this before.”

“I know.” He ran a hand through his hair, longer now than when you’d met. It suited him. “Okay. I’ll go with you.”

“You were gonna go with me either way.”

He laughed. “I’ll pretend I had a choice.”

The class was that Thursday. You had been staying home since graduation, while Steve had started working with his dad. It wore him out and he kind of hated it, but it was worth it for the benefits and pay. It was really the only option to take care of the three of you.

Steve picked you up after work, still dressed in his button down and tie, loosened around his neck. He smiled at you tiredly - “Hey.”

“Hey yourself. How was work?”

“Boring. Long.” He sighed as he pulled away from the curb and drove towards the hospital the class was being held at. It was the same hospital you’d be delivering at. “I hate it.”

“I know,” you said quietly. There was nothing to be done about it, though. It didn’t stop the guilt from eating at you.

At the hospital Steve helped you get out of the car, since you were officially too big to do it yourself now. Once you were down, you were stuck without help. It made you feel useless. He put his hand on your back as you waddled inside and signed in.

The goal was to give birth without the epidural. You weren’t sure how well that was going to go for you, but you were doing everything in your power to be prepared and have the best chance of making it without the medication.

You took a seat on one of the mats, Steve helping to lower you to the ground. He sat next to you, looking awkward as he looked around at all the other couples. Not that you were a couple.

The class started with relaxation exercises. Steve sat behind you, rubbing your shoulders and back as you tried to mentally get in the zone - meditating and doing deep breathing exercises along with the instructor.

The next thing they did was play a childbirth video.

Steve turned so pale you thought he would pass out. His eyes were glued to the screen, staring in absolute horror. His jaw was dropped, like he never expected childbirth to be this graphic- or dramatic.

After the video, the instructor talked some about the birthing process. You and Steve both listened intently, Steve even taking notes in a little notebook he brought along with him. It was cute.

After the lecture portion of the class, the instructor started leading you through labor breathing exercises.

“Alright, dads,” she said in her soothing voice, clapping her hands together. “Sit behind mom and hold her - hands on the belly for support - now breathe in and out with me, just like this.”

You followed her example, breathing in quickly three times then a long breath out. You repeated the exercise over and over along with the rest of the class, Steve’s strong hands on you as he breathed along with you. It was intimate. You leaned back into his touch and his body molded around yours.

“You’re doing great,” he whispered in your ear. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart. Keep breathing just like that. You’re gonna kick ass.”

Steve’s words were encouraging. It wasn’t exactly the method the other dads in the room were using, including more swearing than anyone else, but it worked.

The instructor taught the dads a lot of ways to support their partners, and Steve was paying full attention. Then she instructed everyone to stand - Steve pulled you up - and had the dads stand behind their partner.

“This has nothing to do with birthing techniques,” the woman said with a smile, “it’s just a moment of relief for our moms.”

Steve followed her steps and wrapped his arms around you, hands beneath your belly. Then, on the count of 3, he lifted up slightly, holding the weight of the baby. You could have cried from relief - your back hadn’t felt better in months. You hadn’t realized how much weight you’d been carrying around.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve huffed. “You carry all this around all day??”

After the short break, she went on to talk about newborn care. Steve changed his first diaper on a doll, which went about as well as you could expect, but you knew he’d be a fast learner.

Steve left the class with a newfound appreciation for you and everything you’d been going through and would go through. He was extra attentive as he helped you into the car.

“Want me to pick up some food on the way home?” he asked, turning the key in the ignition and starting the BMW.

“God, you read my mind.”

—

You were 35 weeks when your baby shower finally came around, absolutely huge and miserable. I mean huge. You didn’t even think it was possible to become so round, yet here you were.

You had started to be in a pretty bad mood all the time since being so heavily pregnant. You were, frankly, over it. Everything hurt, you felt like you took up so much space and looked like garbage, you couldn’t breathe, and there were no comfortable positions left.

Carol helped you dress in your long pink dress, the fabric hanging flatteringly along your body. You actually looked beautiful - it had been a long time since you felt beautiful.

“Look at you,” Carol said, a huge smile on her face as she looked you over. She looked as if she might cry. “I can’t believe it’s finally here.”

“I look huge,” you said, turning each way in the mirror.

“You look like a mom,” she said. “Very womanly. I dig it.”

You laughed at that, smoothing your hands over the belly. You actually didn’t feel bad.

“Steve’s going to lose his mind.”

You froze.

“What?” Carol asked, mockingly innocent. “You think I haven’t noticed how into him you are? Or how into you he is?”

“He is not into me,” you said quickly.

“Yes, he is. I’ve known Steve since elementary school. I’ve been friends with Steve since elementary school.” Carol looked at you pointedly. “He is head over heels for you, girl.”

“He just cares about me because I’m carrying his baby. It’s nothing more than that.”

“Tell yourself that if you want,” she shrugged.

You tried to push her words out of your head as you finished getting ready for the party. They were still lingering in your head when you walked into Steve’s large immaculate living room, to a room full of people you loved and some you vaguely knew.

You weren’t usually one to be the center of attention. You’d spent most of your life flying under the radar, not drawing any extra attention to yourself. But the baby shower was like having a spotlight on you, everyone looking at you and your belly and knowing how you got here. Even if they didn’t know the Nancy part, everyone here knew you and Steve were teen parents after a hookup and weren’t even together.

You happily helped yourself to the food, however. Your and Steve’s moms, with the help of Carol, had really outdone themselves. It was the fanciest baby shower you’d ever seen.

There was a beautiful rocking chair with a bow on it by the gift table. You wiped tears away as you removed it and sat down in the chair with Steve beside you. Carol began bringing you gifts, opening one after another of baby clothes and diapers and supplies you had been panicked about being able to afford. It only made you cry harder.

“There’s one more,” Steve said after you opened the last gift. The whole room of people watched intently, which made you uncomfortable, but Steve always made you feel like you were the only two people in the world.

He moved to the table and grabbed a card. It was tucked neatly in a dark green envelope, and it was thick, like there was something inside. You looked at Steve curiously. “What is this?”

“You have to open it and see,” he laughed.

You gave him a playfully cautious look before you started to break the seal on the envelope. You pulled out a pink card decorated with baby rattles and diapers and cribs. Slowly you opened it, and your jaw dropped.

There was a key taped inside. And on the other side, written in Steve’s messy scrawl:

My gift to you. Thank you for everything you do. You are my best friend and you are going to be the best mom this world has ever seen. I can’t wait to watch it happen.

Welcome home.

The tears were falling freely now. “Steve- is this-?”

“The key to our new apartment,” he finished for you. “I’ve been looking for months and I finally found one we can afford that looks incredible. Two bedrooms. A place for us to make our own.”

“Steve-“ you cried, but it was barely audible through the tears. You weren’t even thinking about how there was a room full of people watching you cry. “You shouldn’t-“

“What, shouldn’t have gotten us a place to live together like a real family?” He chuckled. “Let yourself be happy, sweetheart. You deserve this.”

The whole room of people were watching, some tearing up at the affectionate display. Steve must have been saving up for this since he got the job with his dad, not spending a single cent on anything for himself. His selflessness never ceased to amaze you, even though you should be used to it by now.

The baby shower was a huge success. You got everything you needed. You were in tears by the time the party was over, giving everyone a hug and all your gratitude as they left. When the guests were gone, you were left alone with Steve and both of your parents.

“You have until this weekend to move out,” Mr. Harrington said to Steve. “I’m not supporting you with a kid on the way.”

The whole vibe in the room shifted. What was once full of joy and happiness was now awkward and stilted. Mr. Harrington had brought the mood down once again.

“You know,” your mother said, “I think you should be proud of them. Sure, they got themselves into a mess, but look at them.” She looked at Steve with a smile, then at you with so much emotion in her eyes. “They’re doing great for themselves. Graduated, a good job, an apartment. They’re going to be okay. I believe in them.”

No one said anything at first. Your mom wrapped her arm around you, pulling you close like she often did when you were half her height. Finally, Mr. Harrington cleared his throat.

“Well. Isn’t that sweet. And naive.”

He turned and left before anyone could say anything else. You could tell your mom was pissed - she wasn’t one to be walked over. But for your sake, she didn’t push it.

“I…” Mrs Harrington began. “I’m…sorry, about him.”

Her words caught you off guard. Even Steve was surprised. He’d never heard her speak against his father before. She pulled Steve into a hug, holding him tight.

“I’m proud of you, son. You’re going to be a great father.”

Steve held her back, the emotions in the room now even more heightened, but not in the way they had been before Steve’s father left. This was better. This was love.

Steve held you tightly when you were on the way out the door with your parents. “I’ll come pick you up this weekend and we’ll move. Well, I’ll move. You can sit and look pretty while telling me where things go.”

Pretty?

“Okay,” you giggled, ignoring that part of what he said. “Bye, Steve.”

“Bye, sweetheart.”

—

Saturday, it was moving time. Just about everyone was pitching in to help - Steve’s mom, your parents, Tommy and Carol. Steve and Tommy carried the couch in and sat it in the living room, and that became your command center for the rest of the day.

You sat down, aching feet up on the coffee table they brought in shortly after. You watched the bustle around you as everyone carried box after box, furniture after furniture. Steve and Tommy got into an argument trying to get the bed frame into the bedroom door, until your dad came over and showed them how to turn it.

After the main furniture was up, you were able to get up and start decorating. You had been longing to nest, body itching to get ready for the baby. It was instinctual, all you could think about was preparing for this baby.

Everyone brought in the boxes from the baby shower. You set up in the nursery with Carol while everyone else finished up.

“We’re getting Steve and Tommy to figure this out,” Carol said, examining the crib manual with her nose scrunched up. “Because I have no fucking idea what this is telling me to do.”

When the rest of the furniture and boxes were moved, your parents began unpacking them while Tommy and Steve joined you and Carol.

“What is this, fuckin’, physics?” Tommy said, the instructions in his hands now. Steve snatched them from him.

“Let me see.”

An hour later and the crib still wasn’t finished, Steve and Tommy arguing every two seconds. You and Carol were opening the baby shower gifts and finding them a place in the room.

“I can’t believe how tiny these clothes are,” Carol gushed, holding them up and looking at them with heart eyes. “I want one.”

“Uh, you can forget about that one,” Tommy said.

You had asked for books instead of cards from your guests, so you had a large selection of baby books you slid onto the wall shelf. Carol cut the tags off the baby clothes and fit them onto the tiny hangers, folding the ones that went in the drawers.

When you were done, it looked like a proper nursery. The dark brown crib had a sheet on it, a personalized blanket hanging over the side. The books and clothes were put away. The stroller was in the closet, car seat ready to be installed in Steve’s car. There was a bouncer and baby swing, a collection of breastfeeding supplies, a changing table and plenty of diapers to get you started.

“Not long now,” Steve said when you were left alone in the apartment, standing in the nursery together and looking at what you’d done together. He rubbed his hand over your large belly, feeling Ellie kicking him. He smiled. He was happy.

—

“Oh my god,” Carol said, holding up a tiny frilly dress. “This is the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

The cashier gave her a disapproving look.

“There’s so many clothes,” you said, running your hand through the rack. “Will she need a lot of clothes?”

“Oh, yeah,” Carol said. “My little brother went through like, 5 outfits a day. Poop and throw up and all that.”

“Ugh.” You both laughed, browsing the store’s selection. There were way more baby girl clothes than baby boy clothes. But you thought about the future - maybe you’d be back one day shopping for a baby boy.

“Oh my god, look at this!” She held up another pink dress, a white bow around it. “You have to get this one. Ellie’s going to look so cute.”

The dress was extremely cute. You took it from Carol’s hands. You put it in your basket - she was right, Ellie had to have it.

You were just looking at another section of clothes when you felt a gush between your legs.

You gasped. “Carol-!”

Her jaw dropped. “Oh my god. Did what I think just happened just happen?”

“I-I think so,” you said. “But it’s early. It’s too early.”

“You’re 35 weeks right??”

“Yes.” You bent over as a strong contraction wracked through your body. You breathed out a rush of air, groaning as you held onto the rack with one hand and your belly with the other.

That’s when you noticed the blood. A lot of it.

The cashier came rushing over to you. “Ma’am? Are you okay? Do you need me to call an ambulance?”

You nodded, words unable to come with the amount of pain you were in, the fear struck deep into your chest. Carol was panicking.

The woman ran back to the phone and called 911, while Carol helped you find a place to sit. You sat on the chair, but quickly realized that wasn’t helping at all. You stood and began pacing, doing your breathing exercises like you’d learned in class. Tears streamed down your face, not from the pain, but from the pure horror, the fear that your baby wouldn’t be okay.

When the paramedics arrived, they got you on the stretcher immediately and prepared to rush you to the hospital. Carol jumped in the back with you, holding your hand.

“Hey. You’re doing great. You’re doing so good. Everything’s gonna be okay. We’ll call Steve at the hospital, okay? Then he’ll be there and the doctors can help you and everything will be fine.” Carol was rambling, her hand shaking in yours.

At the hospital you were brought upstairs immediately, changed into a gown and hooked up to monitors. Your blood pressure was still high and you were still

bleeding. They rushed an ultrasound machine into the room, beginning the exam as Carol called Steve.

“Steve?” Carol said into the phone. “She- she’s in labor. Yes, I’m sure. We know it’s early. There’s…there’s a lot of blood. We’re already at the hospital. Okay. By-“ She put the phone down. “He’s on his way. He hung up on me.”

Carol was helping you through your breathing exercises, trying to keep you calm as much as she could. You could tell she was freaked out, but she was being a good friend. The best, really.

The doctors finished their exam and determined you had experienced placental abruption.

“This is very, very serious,” the doctor said. “We’re going to prepare you for a C-section now.”

You didn’t want that. You didn’t want any of this. You had spent so long preparing for birth, preparing your pain management exercises and everything for the natural birth of your dreams. But anything to give Ellie the best chance of survival. You were getting woozy from the blood loss.

“Wait,” you said weakly as they put a cap over your hair and prepared to rush you to the OR. “Steve-“

“We have to take you for surgery right now,” one of the nurses said. “I don’t want to alarm you, but this is very serious. We can’t wait for anyone.”

You started crying again. None of this was happening the way you’d hoped. As they wheeled you out into the hall, you heard footsteps running down the hall. You turned your head, relieved to see a panicked Steve rushing to your side, still dressed in his nice clothes from work.

“I’m here,” he said, grabbing your hand. “I’m here.”

“Sir, we’re taking her for an emergency C-section right now,” the nurse said. “Someone will get you some scrubs and you can meet us in there.”

Steve reluctantly watched them take you, feeling helpless as he was left behind.

You were still out of it as they brought you into the freezing cold operating room, moving you onto the metal table covered in a sheet. There was a curtain separating your chest from the rest of your body, preventing you from seeing what was going on.

They put an oxygen mask on you and administered medication into your IV. It wasn’t long before you couldn’t feel anything below your arms anymore. Your vision was hazy, and all of a sudden you weren’t worried about anything anymore.

Steve rushed into the room dressed in hospital scrubs with a hair cap matching yours. The fear in his eyes was evident, and they were red as if he’d been crying. “Sweetheart,” he said, placing a kiss on your forehead and holding your hand. “I’m here. Everything is gonna be okay. The doctors are gonna help you and Ellie is gonna be here in our arms soon, healthy and beautiful.” It wasn’t clear who he was trying to convince.

You were out of it, not feeling a thing as they made the incision. Steve was freaking out, his hand shaking where it held one of yours that was strapped down. It felt like it was only seconds before the sound of crying filled the room.

Steve huffed a disbelieving breath, a smile on his face as he cried and looked at the tiny little baby with complete awe. The nurses cleaned her up, checking her out to make sure she was okay. She was so tiny, wiggling and crying. You had never seen something so small, so delicate.

The nurse wrapped her in a hospital blanket, putting a soft cap on her head full of brown hair. She brought her over to you and Steve as the doctors continued working on you, trying to stop the bleeding unbeknownst to you.

Steve took her from the nurse’s arms with all the gentleness of a brand new dad. He was shaking as he pushed the blanket down slightly to uncover her angelic face. Her eyes were closed, content in her father’s arms. He leaned over and held her down for you to see.

“Look,” Steve said gently. “Look what we did.”

You couldn’t stop the tears as you saw your daughter for the first time. She was perfect. Chubby little cheeks, pouty lips, button nose. She looked like the perfect mix of you and Steve.

“Hi, Ellie,” you whispered, your voice weak. “You are the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Steve chuckled, a tear escaping from his eye and rolling down his cheek. “She’s perfect, isn’t she?”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Perfect.”

—

Elizabeth Louise Harrington was born healthy, 6 lbs 7 oz. She only needed a short time in the nicu before they discharged her. You spent every waking moment in a wheelchair by her bassinet, holding and rocking her, taking turns with Steve, who was there the second he got off work.

Your mom was the first one to visit. She had hurried to the hospital as soon as Carol called her to tell her what had happened. She cried, a lot. But when she held her granddaughter in her arms, everything in the world was right.

Your dad came after work, smiling down at the tiny bundle in his wife’s arms. He put a hand on your shoulder, and looked at Steve. “You did good, kids.”

Steve’s mom was there shortly after. She cooed at the tiny baby, walking around the room and rocking her like a total natural. It may have been 18 years since she’d done this, but her instinct never left. His father never came.

That evening, once both of your parents had left, Tommy and Carol came over. “Oh my goddd!” Carol squealed quietly, coming over to you with her arms outstretched. “Let Auntie Carol see that perfect baby.”

Carol sat next to you on the bed as you handed the baby to her. She was so gentle as she took Ellie into her arms, bouncing her softly and cooing. “Look at you, pretty girl. Gonna be just as beautiful as your mama.”

Tommy took a seat on the room’s couch next to Steve. “Congrats, man,” he said, slapping Steve on the back.

“Thanks,” he said sheepishly.

“How do you like being a dad?”

Steve looked over at you, Ellie, and Carol on the bed, and he smiled. His chest felt warm and fuzzy, his heart soaring. “It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

They let you both go home from the hospital a week later. Steve took a week off of work to help you out, but that’s all his dad was willing to give him. You tucked Ellie safely into her car seat, buckling her in safely. Steve was so paranoid about hurting her.

The nurse pushed you out of the hospital in a wheelchair while Steve carried the baby carrier to his car. He hooked it into the backseat, and helped you climb into the back next to her. You weren’t ready to let her ride back there alone yet.

Steve drove home at a snail’s pace. The other cars on the road honked at you, but Steve didn’t care. All he cared about was getting his girls home safely.

He carried the carrier in one hand while he helped you walk your sore body into the apartment with his other. He got you comfortable on the couch before taking a sleeping Ellie out of her seat. He bounced her gently as he walked around the room.

It was so strange to be here, in this home, with your family. Your family, the one you created. Steve, and the baby girl you’d created together.

Only you and Steve weren’t together.

Steve hadn’t talked about girls at all since you’d been pregnant. You had taken his full attention. But what about when he decided he wanted to date again? How would you handle that? The thought filled you with dread.

Because you were starting to feel something for Steve that scared you.

You spent the first week home on the couch mostly. Steve brought you everything you needed, while helping you move a little more each day. You were still so sore from surgery, but you were determined to be ready to care for Ellie on your own when Steve went back to work.

Steve’s first diaper change had been an experience. He gagged, being dramatic as hell while you watched on and laughed. “You’re gonna have to get used to it, bud.”

“This is foul. How does such a tiny little thing poop so much?”

You had a newborn photo shoot scheduled 2 weeks after you came home. You dressed Ellie in a tiny dress, you and Steve dressing in matching nice clothes.

“Okay, mom and dad,” the photographer said. “Why don’t you get close and hold her between you?”

Steve moved close to you, holding Ellie between your bodies. The sleeping newborn cradled perfectly in your arms together, the photos were taken. You had chills at the proximity. You found that you liked being close to Steve. You liked it a lot.

That night, you got Ellie settled and laid her down in her crib. You were exhausted, as you always were these days. “I’m ready for bed,” you told Steve, yawning big.

“Me too,” he said. “Go on and get ready and I’ll be in soon.”

Since the apartment only had two bedrooms, you and Steve had agreed to share the bed. It was purely platonic, of course, even though you often woke up with Steve’s arm wrapped tightly around you and his face buried in your neck as he snored lightly. You never moved him when that happened.

After you’d had a shower and gotten in bed, Steve came and did the same before joining you. You both drifted off to sleep so fast, as you always did these days.

It was 3am when you were woken by the baby monitor. You picked it up, seeing Ellie fussing. You sighed - you never minded taking care of her, but you were just so tired tonight. You were getting up when Steve stopped you.

“I got it,” he said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “You go back to sleep.”

“Are you sure?” you asked. “You have work tomorrow.”

“I’m sure. Get some rest, please.”

You watched Steve leave, wondering how you got so lucky.

Steve went into the nursery, scooping a crying Ellie from her crib. “Hi, baby girl,” he said quietly. “Are you hungry? Let’s go warm you up a bottle.”

You had a supply of pumped milk so Steve could feed her, too. He went into the kitchen with the baby in his arms, making the bottle one handed like a pro. He settled into the recliner and rocked as he fed the bottle to Ellie, who was snuggled against his shirtless chest.

He was so sleepy, but he’d rather be here than anywhere else.

A month into her life, Ellie started crying constantly. It was like there was nothing you could do to calm her. It broke your heart to see her so upset, like she was in pain. Steve was stressing out hard.

“What do we do??” he asked, pacing and running his hands through his hair. “What’s wrong with her? Why won’t she calm down?”

A trip to the doctor later, Ellie had a diagnosis of colic. You were basically told there was nothing you could do, it was just something that had to run its course. Nevertheless, you both put your all into trying to make her feel better. Making sure she burped well after eating, giving her gas drops, walking the hall with her at night for hours until she finally fell asleep. Steve never once complained. He was so devoted to his daughter, it made your chest ache with love.

Love.

One of those nights, when Ellie was 7 weeks old and after she had finally fallen asleep, you and Steve collapsed on the couch, exhausted. You laid your head on his shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around you.

“You okay?” he asked you quietly.

“Yeah,” you said. “What about you?”

“I’m good. I’m happy.” He smiled down at you. “I know this is hard, but I love being a dad. I love my girl. Both of my girls.”

There was that word again. Love.

“Steve,” you started, sitting up on the couch and turning to face him as you talked. “What do you want for your future?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, furrowing his brows.

“Like, what do you want? Where do you want to be?”

“I want to be right here,” he said easily.

“No, but, you know what I mean. For the future. Do you want to get married to someone? Have more kids?”

Steve smiled. “Definitely. I want a big family.”

“Yeah? Even after all this?” you laughed sleepily.

“Of course. I want like, six kids.”

“Jesus.”

Steve laughed. “And…I don’t want to marry ‘someone’.”

You raised your eyebrows. “You don’t want to get married?”

“No, I mean, of course I do.” He seemed flustered, something you didn’t see from him often. “I just…it’s someone in particular.”

Your heart sunk. Nancy, you thought. He had never gotten over her. He was still in love with Nancy.

“You. I want to marry you.”

You froze. You were sure you were just hearing things, going crazy from the lack of sleep and hearing the things you wanted to hear. He had not just said that. “What?” you said, the only thing you could think to say.

“I…” He leaned forward, placing his hand on the side of your face so you were looking at him. “I love you. I’m in love with you. I have been for a long time.”

You gaped at him like an idiot. “Steve…”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I just…I’ve been waiting for the right moment for months, and I just-“

You cut him off by leaning forward and pressing your lips onto his.

Steve wasted no time in kissing you back, pulling you closer to him, closer and closer until you were straddling his lap as his arms wrapped around you and your lips worked together. You moaned against his lips, which drove Steve absolutely crazy.

He put his hands on your ass, grinding you against his lap. He was hard already, like he wanted you bad. Hell, you wanted him just as bad. He groaned into your mouth as your tongues started working together, his hands sliding up and down your body and feeling every part of you.

“God, you-“ he said, totally breathless and pupils blown wide in lust. “You are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my life.”

That was hard to believe, especially when he’d been so head over heels for Nancy, who in your mind was so much prettier and better than you. But you could tell he was telling the truth.

“I love you,” you said between kisses, finally saying the words that had been on the tip of your tongue for months and months. “I love you. I love you.”

Steve groaned and held you even closer, his erection pressing up against you. It made you impossibly wet, grinding down onto him. You’d only had sex the one time in your life, and you’d thought about it every day since it happened.

“Can I take you to the room?” Steve asked, his voice low as he toyed with the hem of your shirt. “Our room?”

“Yes,” you told him, wanting nothing more.

He lifted you up with little effort, carrying you into the bedroom while you wrapped your arms and legs around him. He carefully laid you down on the bed, careful of your stitches. He pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor before crawling over you still in his pajama pants.

He kissed all over your neck, making you whine, pulling slightly on his hair which made him groan. His hands slowly slid beneath your shirt, pushing it up and up until he took it completely off. You immediately covered your body up with your arms.

“Baby…” Steve murmured. “What are you doing?”

“I just…” you let out a breath. “My body is a lot different than the last time you saw it.”

Steve looked almost hurt. “Baby. You are beautiful. You carried and birthed my child. You could not be any hotter to me.”

Steve’s words almost had you tearing up, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment. You slowly lowered your arms, revealing your body to him. True to his word, Steve looked at you with nothing but love and desire in his eyes.

He kissed all over your body, your stomach, your chest, your neck, your lips. He was worshipping your body, loving every single part of it. “I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

He started kissing down your body, down between your legs, but you stopped him. “I just want you,” you said, your voice coming out more whiney and pleading than you meant.

Steve smirked. He pulled your pants and panties off the rest of the way. “Well, you have me.”

He pushed his own pants and boxers down, his large election springing free. He was even more massive than you remembered from your drunken night together. It was intimidating.

Steve kissed you on the lips again, a slow, loving, sensual kiss. You felt his tip at your entrance as he rubbed it between your folds, getting his cock nice and wet. “Are you ready?” he asked you, so quiet. You nodded.

He pushed inside, the stretch taking your breath away. Your nails dug into his shoulders as he set a slow pace, his face buried in your neck as he groaned in pleasure. “Jesus,” he moaned. “You are so tight. Feels so good.”

“You’re…huge, Steve,” you whined, making him chuckle breathlessly.

“Is it okay? Is it too much? Should I stop?”

“No, no,” you said quickly. “Keep going. Please.”

Steve obeyed, rocking his hips into you at a slightly

faster pace. The old bed creaked lightly beneath your movements, the headboard knocking into the wall. “Fuck, fuck,” he moaned. “God. I’m not gonna last long. It’s been so long, and you feel like heaven. My beautiful, beautiful girl.”

“Oh, Steve,” you moaned, back arching as he hit that bundle of nerves deep inside. “Feels good. Keep going just like that.”

He intertwined your fingers together above your head, his left hand holding onto your hip. He thrusted into you faster, faster, faster, making the hottest, most sinful noises as he neared release.

“I’m getting close,” he said, hips snapping against you. “Oh, fuck.” He readjusted so he had a hand to lean on while the other dipped between your bodies, rubbing tight circles on your clit.

“Oh!” you moaned at the sudden feeling, pussy clenching around Steve’s cock and making him let out the most pathetic whimper.

“Jesus- Jesus Christ,” he said, breathless. “You’re killin’ me.”

“I’m really close, Steve,” you whined, writhing under him. “Really close.”

“Go ahead and cum for me, sweetheart,” he coaxed. “Let me feel it. Make a mess all on my cock for me.”

Your lips parted in a gasp, eyes rolling back as an orgasm crashed into you. Your pussy clenched around his cock tightly, and Steve cried out, his hips stuttering into you. The second you came down from your orgasm he pulled out, jerking his cock a couple times before he shot ropes of his cum all over your stomach and tits, groaning as he watched. He came so much, covering you in it.

He admired his work for a few seconds as he caught his breath. He had never seen anything hotter. When he was finally back to earth, he hopped off the bed and ran into the attached bathroom, grabbing a towel and coming back to clean you up. “Sorry,” he said with a sheepish smile.

“It’s okay,” you said with a giggle. “That was hot.”

Once you were cleaned up, he collapsed into the bed with you, both still naked. Wrapping his arm around you, he pulled you close into him, spooning you and snuggling his face into the back of your neck.

“I love you,” he said. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too, Steve. So much.”

—

Things found their version of normal eventually. It helped when you could start getting out of the house with Ellie, just getting some fresh air and seeing the outside world. Carol came over a lot, so it wasn’t like you had been totally lonely, but there’s nothing like going out in public.

Ellie was 5 months old. You and Steve had been officially together for 4ish months, and it was going amazing. You had never been happier. You had driven yourself and Ellie to Bradley’s Big Buy on your own for the first time since her birth.

“You wanna ride in the cart?” you asked her, earning a big grin from the baby even though she had no idea what you’d said. You settled her into the front of the cart - taking the time to disinfect it with wipes first. Ellie held onto the bar as you pushed her into the store.

Bread…milk…pasta…dish soap…diapers.

You began grabbing the things you needed, Ellie totally amazed at the world around her. It was adorable to see. But just as you grabbed the bread and were about to leave the aisle, you nearly bumped into someone.

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” you said. “I didn’t-“

Nancy.

You froze, just staring at her. She looked different. She had a perm now, and it really suited her. She looked beautiful as she always did.

“It’s…it’s okay,” she said, her eyes roaming to Ellie in the cart. Ellie smiled big at her, and Nancy couldn’t help but return it.

“How…how have you been?” you asked her, unsure if she wanted to talk to you at all.

“Oh. I’ve been good. I got a job at the newspaper. Me and Jonathan just got an apartment together.” She smiled gently.

“That’s great,” you said, and you meant it. You were happy to see her doing well, to see her happy. “I’m glad things are going well for you.”

“Yeah,” she said. “How- how are you?”

You were surprised she asked. “I’m doing well. Recovered from surgery now and everything. Ellie’s doing fantastic.”

“I’m really happy to hear that,” she said, and she seemed genuine. “I heard it was a rough birth.”

“Yeah.” Ellie reached for you, and you grabbed her hand, letting her wrap her tiny fingers around yours. “But, you know, it was worth it. To have her.”

Nancy nodded. “I’m sure.” A pause. “How’s Steve?”

“He’s great. Working for his dad now.” You debated whether to continue. “We, uh…we’ve been together for about 4 months now.”

“Oh,” she said. She didn’t seem upset, like she had expected that. “I’m happy for you both. Steve’s…he’s a good guy.”

You smiled. “Yeah. He is.”

There was a moment of silence between you before Nancy shook her head. “Well. I need to get going, I’m just picking up lunch for the staff. It was…it was good to see you.”

“Good to see you, too, Nance.”

She gave you a polite smile before pushing her cart off. You watched her go, her curly hair disappearing into another aisle.

You weren’t sure what to make of the interaction. She certainly didn’t seem like she hated you anymore. But you knew you would never be friends again, and that part broke your heart.

Maybe there was progress to be made.

—

Life with Steve and Ellie was wonderful. Steve was an amazing dad- the best. He was also an amazing boyfriend. He made you feel loved and cherished, safe and cared for.

He worked with Ellie every day, first down on the floor with her for tummy time, then once she mastered that and grew older, he did his best to teach her how to crawl.

“You know, I crawled backwards as a baby,” he said randomly one day.

“Huh?”

“It’s true,” he said. “I just…” He held his hands up and mimicked crawling backwards.

You laughed hard. “That is so Steve.”

“What does that mean??”

At Christmas, he went all out. He spoiled her as much as he could afford, even though he knew she wouldn’t remember a thing about it or even understand it. Christmas day Steve was the one to wake you up bright and early- “It’s Christmas!!!”

You drank some coffee, taking pictures while Steve sat on the floor with Ellie, helping her open her presents. She was delighted with everything she opened, and you and Steve had a blast watching her enjoy Christmas.

Her first birthday party was a whole occasion, too. It was at the Harrington’s, since they had so much space. Even Steve’s dad softened in the presence of Ellie Harrington. Steve cried when everyone sang her happy birthday.

When you had been together for a year, Steve asked your mom to babysit so he could take you out for dinner to celebrate your anniversary. He wouldn’t tell you where you were going, but told you to dress fancy.

You wore a red dress that hugged your curves in the most perfect way. Steve nearly started drooling when he saw you. But you felt the same way about him, dressed up nice.

He took you to Enzo’s, a place you’d never been. “Get anything you want,” he said. “I don’t want you to worry about the price tonight.”

You tried your best to ignore the exorbitant prices as you scanned the menu, eventually deciding on a chicken alfredo. The food was delicious, you practically moaned when you took your first bite.

“I would order us some wine, but I get the feeling they won’t fall for my fake ID here,” Steve said, making you laugh. You drank sparkling water instead, still in the fancy spirit.

After dinner you shared a piece of chocolate cake. You speared a bite onto your fork and held it out to Steve, who happily opened his mouth to let you feed it to him before he did the same to you. You giggled, feeling both very grown up and also like a couple of kids.

After you finished dessert, you were full. You were ready to get the check and head home back to Ellie when Steve spoke up, saying your name.

“Baby,” he said. “I…I wanted to ask you something.”

You looked at him curiously. “What is it?”

He reached into his pocket, then stood. When he got down on one knee, you gasped, covering your mouth with your hands, the tears falling already.

He said your full name, looking deep into your eyes as he opened the box, revealing the most beautiful diamond ring you’d ever laid eyes on. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes! Oh my god, yes yes yes.”

Steve smiled as he slipped the ring onto your finger - a perfect fit. He stood and pulled you into a kiss as the entire restaurant clapped for you - a literal dream come true.

Forever with the love of your life.

Stay tuned for the sequel baby daddy series!!

tag list

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lokis-army-77 · 1 year ago

Text

Make Room

Boyfriend! Steve Harrington x fem reader x College Roommate! Eddie Munson

Word Count: 2.6k

During an intimate moment between you and your boyfriend Steve, his roommate catches you and you decide to let him join.

Warning: 18 +. p in v, unprotected sex, fingering, cock warming? voyeurism, pet names, cum swallowing.

Thank you to @munson-blurbs, @lofaewrites, and @munson-mjstan for reading over this.

Masterlist

"Are you sure we should be doing this? What if your roommate comes back?" Your question is muffled as your boyfriend expertly kisses you.

"We're fine." He grunts, his hands wandering over your body.

He's got you undressed, save for his t-shirt that had been pushed up to reveal you, and pressed into the sheets of his bed. The scent of him plumes around you as you writhe beneath him. His large fingers dig into your hips, bringing your core closer to him.

He's still fully clothed, in no rush to let you have what you've come to so desperately desire.

It started with soft touches under his blanket as you watched Netflix on the laptop propped up at the end of the bed. You tried to ignore the soft tips of his fingers climbing higher up your thigh. You had been startled when Steve's roommate, Eddie, who had been in the room the whole time, had announced he was going to meet some friends in the commons before heading out for dinner. That was five minutes ago.

"Stevie, he could come back any minute." You whined, arching your chest upwards when his fingers dipped through the wetness between your thighs.

"I think you like the thought of that. Of Eddie coming back and catching us." Steve grinned when he felt you shiver.

You couldn't lie, the thought didn’t terrify you as much as it should. Eddie was pretty, devastatingly so, with the grungey rockstar look that made your stomach flutter every time he so much as looked your way.

Steve speaks up again, a laugh filtering through his words. "You like it. I can feel just how wet that made you, baby."

You shy away, turning your gaze from him, embarrassed. He catches your chin with his other hand and urges you to look back at him.

"Nothing to be ashamed of, baby. Eddie’s a good guy, I'm sure he wouldn't mind joining us. I mean... I've thought about him fucking you while I watch more times than I care to say out loud."

More knots twist in your stomach. A moan rips from you from a combination of Steve's admission and his thumb rubbing tight circles over your sensitive clit.

You couldn't take it anymore. You needed him to be inside you. The emptiness you felt was like a gaping hole that only Steve's cock could perfectly fill.

"Please," you cry out. "Please, I need you."

Steve kept stroking through your swollen lips. "Need me where baby?"

You hated when he made you say it. It made you feel dirty, but it turned you on so, so much.

"My-my pussy. Need you in my pussy Stevie."

"Yeah?" He hums.

You nod. "Yeah."

Steve takes his hands away from you, shushing you when you cry out at the loss. He quickly strips down, paying no mind to where his clothes go before he crawls on top of you—kissing his way up your body.

"Want you to ride my cock, love. Wanna see you make yourself come apart above me."

"Yes, yes, please. As long as you're inside me."

You scramble to follow his lead. Throwing your leg over his once he lay comfortably propped against his pillow and headboard. His cock was thick and hard, laying stiff against his abdomen.

Reaching your hand out, you grasp him. He's warm and practically throbbing. You tug gently over his velvety skin, pulling a delicious moan from his lips.

Steve beckons you forward with a finger and you hurry up his body. Your cunt rubs over his length, wetting it with your arousal. You both moan when Steve leans up to take your mouth in his.

"Fuck my cock, honey."

With that, you take him up in your hand, letting the tip slide through your wet folds before positioning him at your entrance.

Slowly, you lower yourself. The head of his cock pushes into you and the stretch has your mouth watering.

Steve's hands grip into your flesh and your moans meld together when he bottoms out. He is feeling you completely, you're stretched around him, taking him so deep.

You let your head fall back as you begin to rock your hips. Going slowly at first, feeling the pleasure rising between the two of you. Then your hips speed up a little, as you chace the feeling.

Steve's hand roams up to your breast, playing and teasing a peaked nipple. His other hand rests in the crease at your waist, helping you move.

"Feel so good Stevie, always feel so good." You feel close to tears as you feel his cock hitting the back of your walls.

You're so lost in the moment, distracted by what you're feeling, that you don't notice Steve's growing smirk or the fact that he's no longer looking at you but behind you. The only thing that clues you into the presence of someone else is the contrast of warm fingers and cold rings when they brush your hair away from the back of your neck.

You jump, freezing when you turn to see who was touching you.

Eddie Munson stood at the edge of Steve's bed, eyes wild and throat bobbing.

"Don't stop on my account sweetheart, I was enjoying the show." He smirks.

You move to get off your boyfriend but Steve keeps a firm grasp on your hips, urging you to keep moving. You don't fight it. The shock dissipates when Steve bucks up into you, cock knocking the breath from your lungs.

Eddie keeps his smoldering eyes on yours. His hand stays cupping the back of your neck. You cant your hips, starting to ride Steve again.

Theres something about being watched that has you coming undone faster than ever. Your legs stiffen and your back arches into Eddie's hold. Your mouth falls open in a long moan.

"Fuck, Harrington- she is pretty when she cums." Eddie chuckles behind you and releases your neck, letting you fall forward on Steve's chest.

"You should feel her when she does… Fuckin strangles my cock almost."

They were talking about you like you weren’t even there. It made your skin prickle and your stomach erupt in butterflies.

You could see Eddie’s wide grin from the corner of your eye. "Oh, I’d love to… as long as you’re okay with that Sweetheart?" Eddie looks from Steve to you, all playfulness gone from his tone.

Opening your mouth to speak, you find it hard to get the words to come out, so you nod.

Steve tsks, "Use those words, honey."

Sitting up, you nod again. "Yes, I’m okay with that."

Eddie’s grin returns, his face less serious. "Then come here, Sweetheart." His hands trace over your skin, helping you off Steve.

You let out a whimper as Steve’s cock slips from you, leaving you empty and wanting. Wasting no time you lay on your back, legs spread and heart racing.

Eddie hums while stepping between your legs. He lets his hands smooth down from your knees, over your inner thighs, to your apex. He lets the backs of his fingers run over the sensitive skin and goosebumps begin to rise.

You look over to your right, Steve is still in the same position, only he has his hand wrapped around his still-hard cock, pumping it slowly as he watches Eddie’s hands.

A shiver runs through your body when Eddie’s middle fingers finally slip past your lips, into the sticky wetness and spread you open. He licks his lips as he stares at your center.

"Such a pretty pussy. All pink and wet, just waiting to be ruined." His fingers massage into your slick skin.

A short, quivering moan flows past your lips when he just barely glides over your clit.

"Such sweet sounds too. Fuck- Steve how do you keep your composure when she makes noises like that?"

"It’s not without difficulty," Steve strains. You can hear the subtle, slick sounds of his hand moving over his cock. It has you trying to close your legs for relief, only to be stopped by Eddie’s body in the way.

Your hips roll upwards, searching for more. The emptiness you felt was consuming, and could only be sated by Eddie pushing himself inside you.

"Eddie-" you whine, "please."

He tilts his head, watching your body write under his teasing fingers. "I'm not the one you should be asking, Harrington's in charge, Sweetheart."

You cut your eyes to Steve, questioning. He just raises an eyebrow.

Letting out a huff, you ask, "Steve, please. Please let him fuck me, wanna feel him."

Steve nods, "You heard her, Munson. She wants you to fuck her."

Your body is practically thrumming with anticipation. Eddie’s thumb circles over your clit one last time before pulling away. You try to sit up, reaching for his belt, wanting to help take his clothes off quicker.

He stops you with a firm hand, pushing you back down. "Be patient, Sweetheart, you’ll have what you want in a second."

With hungry eyes, you watch his every movement. Your mouth waters when a trail of coarse hair is revealed, trailing down past the waist of his jeans and blue boxers. Your heart beats as he pulls the fabric lower, his almost fully hard cock is pulled from its place. He’s not as long as Steve but what he lacks in inches he makes up for in girth.

For a moment your eyes widen in surprise. How in the world is he going to fit? You ask yourself. You’ve never taken anything that thick before.

Eddie, noticing the slight shake in your breathing, pets your leg and mumbles a soft, "You’re alright."

Then he gently takes himself in his other hand and taps the head against the swollen and sensitive lips of your cunt. You squirm at the teasing feeling.

The stiff dorm room mattress jostles you as Steve moves from lying down to o. His knees. His large hands roam over your Body, petting you almost. His fingers drag over the sliver of stomach showing from under your t-shirt.

"Arms up honey." He tells you, and you listen, throwing your arms above your head. Steve then tugged the shirt off you, leaving you bare with two sets of hungry, lust-filled Eyes watching you.

It's easier for them to see the hitch in your breath now. Easier for them to see how they are both affecting your body.

Steve leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin as he whispers in your ear: "Beautiful," and your body shivers in anticipation. His lips trail down your throat, leaving a trail of what felt like molten lava in their wake.

Eddie, on the other hand, now guides himself into you. The stretch makes you burn, a different heat from Steve's n kisses but just as pleasurable.

Your body buzzes with the feeling of both of them touching you. Each of their large hands sends sparks through you, giving you goosebumps.

"God, so fuckin’ tight.

You reach out to him, fingers pushing on his abdomen, keeping him from pushing all the way in.

"Slow. Go slow." You moan. Eddie’s thickness made you feel like you were being split apart, even though you had been thoroughly worked out.

He listens, pushing into you at a snail's pace until he bottoms out. He groans and you gasp, feeling completely and utterly full. Eddie starts to roll his hips into you little by little.

Your vision has gone hazy, everything is unfocused as the pain turns into pleasure.

"Doin’ such a good job, baby." You hear Steve's praise from beside you. His hand still roams your body, teasing all the places he knows you are most sensitive.

"Need more…" You tell both of them. Eddie responds by increasing the pace, thrusting into you harder and faster. Steve's fingers dip lower and lower until they begin to rub into your swollen clit, his other hand tilting your head sideways.

"Open your mouth, Honey."

You oblige. Opening without question and humming in content when Steve's cock is placed on your tongue. He holds himself still, just letting you warm him as he uses his free hand to pump the length of him not in your mouth.

You let free a long sigh, finally satisfied with how both men were touching you, filling up your holes.

Eddie continues to pump deep inside you. Between his forceful thrusts and Steve’s lithe fingers, you’re on the brink. A layer of sweat has coated your body and your stomach feels like it’s in knots. Your hips are trying to move with the rhythm of their fucking you but Eddie’s hands hold you firm to the mattress.

Moan after wanton moan leaves your stuffed mouth as you inch closer and closer to the edge. Your body begins to shake and your fingers and toes curl in on themselves as the amount of pleasure you are feeling.

"That’s it, Sweetheart, take it. Take it like the good girl you are," Eddei hudds out between thrusts.

"Gonna let go for us? Hum?" Steve asks.

You nod your head slightly, giving the head of his cock a firm suck, sending him into a whimpering mess.

"Fuck." He seethes. "Not gonna last much longer."

"Me either." The other man says as his thrusts begin to lose their rhythm.

Finally, the string inside you that’s been tugged on over and over has been pulled taut. Your back arches off the bed and a muffled scream of ecstasy flows from you as the string eventually snaps.

"God damnit," Eddie moans, "She’s squizin’ me so fuckin’ tight. I’m gonna cum. Fuck, where do cum?"

Steve pulls out of your mouth before he speaks. "Ya hear that, Honey? Where do you want him to cum? Tell him."

You turn to look Eddie in the eyes and say, "Inside. Want you to fill me up."

Eddie grunts in what you imagine is a ‘thank you’ before he is finally spilling his load into your needy cunt.

Steve removes his hand from your clit and brings it to his cock. "Keep your mouth open, baby, tongue out. He starts to tug himself faster and faster before he lets the spurts of cum fall into your waiting mouth. Greedily you swallow it all.

You three stay like that for a moment, fucked out and touching in any way you can. You can’t help the long whimpering whine you make when Eddie finally pulls out of you and Steve climbs off the bed.

"I know, love, I know," Steve whispers before kissing you. "I’ll get you nice and cleaned up." He moves to the small bathroom in the corner and begins wetting a washcloth. Eddie follows behind him, filling up a cup with water and grabbing a bag of Doritos from the snack stash in one of his desk drawers.

They both take care of you in tandem and you love every second of it. So much so that after everything, your eyes begin to droop and a big yawn escapes you.

Steve takes his place behind you, pulling you into his warm body. "I think it’s time for a nap."

You hum in agreement.

Eddie is quiet, then he clears his throat. "I guess I should leave you both to it. I’ll see you in a few hours, Harrington."

"Eddie, wait." Your words stop him before he can begin putting his clothes back on.

"Yeah, Sweetheart?"

"Stay."

He looks from your half-lidded eyes to Steves, waiting for the ‘okay’. He’s almost giddy when Steve pulls the covers back, creating a space for him.

He scrambles into the space, wrapping himself around you, and buries his face into your neck. You and Steve chuckle at him before the three of you finally relax into one another, settling down for a well-deserved sleep.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn #joseph quinn smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #female reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steddie x reader #steve harrington #joe keery #joe keery smut

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cycat-carisi · 6 days ago

Text

My Heart In Your Dreams

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Steve Harrington used to be your best friend but things went south when the two of you started high school and the Steve you knew became someone very different. Now, after years apart, he's shown up to a business dinner hosted by your parents. Why has he come and will you and Steve be able to overcome the past?

Tags: canon adjacent (post S4/pre-S5), flashbacks (in italics), former best friends, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort/angst/fluff, mention of child neglect (Steve's dad is an a-hole), mention of class differences, mutual pining, no use of y/n, reader has a gap in her teeth, self-consciousness, some cursing.

Words: 10,825 (oops)

A/N: This one goes out to all my fellow gap-tooth girlies! The idea for this one came about when Djo first performed "Gap Tooth Smile" live. I appreciated this song so much because it was finally a piece of media that painted this unique feature in a positive light. It gives people like me me a new reason to be proud of our smiles. The fic began as a single scene born from the positivity of the song, and kept growing the more I filled in the gaps (pun intended)! It's been a long labour of love, and I hope you enjoy reading it just as much as I did writing it 🩷

Fic below the cut or on AO3.

Summer 1988

“Oh.”

“It’s definitely…unique.”

“Has it always been that wide?”

“Ever thought about getting it closed in?”

Staring at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, like every other time, you can’t help but notice it too. The way that it always seems to be staring back at you.

There was a time when you stubbornly refused to even think about it in a negative way. It was a feature so uniquely you that a swell of pride would rise in your chest when you saw it. It was something that helped set you apart from all those snooty high school peers during a time when being different was your badge of honour.

That was then. Since, you’ve grown up and have gone on to college. And suddenly you are engulfed by a world where all your precious differences have mutated into your greatest insecurities.

In the mirror, you observe your styled hair and mascara-coated eyelashes, but as you part your lips to tint them in a soft pink hue, its presence seems to dominate over all the other effort you’ve put into your appearance.

“It” being the three-millimeter gap between your two front teeth. You force a smile, wondering for the umpteenth time whether it’s too large. Sure, it’s symmetrical and straight, but all those comments your brain has accumulated over the years get pushed to the forefront each time you catch a glimpse of it.

Those comments war with your confidence, flip-flopping you between pride and self-doubt. After all, you’ve been painfully single for your entire twenty-one years on this planet, and perhaps it has something to do with your smile. Maybe you open your mouth and guys high-tail it in the opposite direction the minute they get a view. After all, a gap-tooth smile surely doesn’t fit the college girl norm. No, all the girls you see are petite with perfect smiles, and attached to their arms are the most handsome guys on campus. The evidence is clear, and it’s hard not to let the insecurities wreak havoc when you definitely do not meet the conventional beauty standards on display around you.

Blinking once, twice, three times, you cram your eyes shut to perform a hard reset on your brain. There’s no time for wallowing in self-pity. The Harringtons, a family that prides themselves on wealth and appearance, will be arriving downstairs any minute for dinner.

The worn carpet on the stairs scratches on the pads of your toes and the aroma of fresh bread and roast beef floods your senses as you reach the bottom landing.

“Oh, there you are, sweetie! Can you come set the dinner rolls out on the table, please! They’ll be here any minute!” Your mom whirls past you, scurrying to perfect the place settings in the dining room. Your father is at the counter, furiously hiding away any loose dishes that cause too much clutter.

Earlier you had helped too, dusting and vacuuming, chopping vegetables and polishing the fancy utensils. The fact of the matter is that dinner with the Harringtons always stressed your little family out.

Right around the time you were born, your father took a job with Mr. Harrington’s business branch. It allowed your dad to work close by and provided a decent wage for his young family. The downside was that Mr. Harrington was his boss. And as Mr. Harrington climbed the corporate ladder, your father had stayed firmly in the same position for nearly his whole career. To make matters worse, included in this working relationship are the “business” dinners.

Except, these business dinners always had a similar outcome: either the Harringtons hosted, allowing them to flaunt their wealth, or your parents hosted, causing this.

“Done, mom,” you say, adjusting the two wicker baskets of fluffy white dinner rolls on the table. You try to peek around for any slight imperfections that may still need correcting. “Is there something else I can do?”

“The begonia!” she exclaims suddenly, looking absolutely horrified as she wipes down the counter, again.

The sad little potted flower sits on your living room windowsill. It doesn’t get as much love as it should with both of your parents working all the time, yet somehow, just like your family, it hangs on.

The reason a silly little houseplant has your mother so worked up is due to how years ago, at a dinner just like this, Mrs. Harrington spotted it looking like its usual wilted self and felt it necessary to comment. The dinner was delicious, the house was immaculate, yet the most minute flaw was the one thing that drew the woman’s attention. It made your mother feel like shit and that made your blood boil.

“On it!” you chime, but you are swiftly halted.

“Forget it!” she squeaks. “They’re here!”

As per routine, you scurry towards the door to greet your ‘esteemed’ guests.

Your mother smooths out her pleated skirt as she takes her place at the front of the assembly line. You are just behind her, and try to stand up straighter, adjusting the large, woven leather belt that sits snuggly around the waist of your floral dress. Behind you, your father attempts to hide the deep breath he takes to calm his nerves when your mother reaches for the door.

“Hiiii!” comes the unmistakable shrill voice of Mrs. Harrington. She files through your front door with a large, albeit fake, smile plastered across full scarlet lips. Your mother greets Mrs. Harrington in kind, quickly acknowledging her husband who towers behind her as well.

Your father and Mr. Harrington lock gazes and nod out cordial greetings to one another like they would in the office. Arms extend for firm handshakes as the Harrington patriarch enters your home.

You force smiles and pleasant hellos to each. Even though you would rather be up in your room hiding away, this dinner is important to your parents. You need to be there for them, just like they have always been there for you.

But as Mr. Harrington’s full build clears the doorframe, your breath hitches.

The couple is not alone.

Slumped shoulders and deflated, hazel eyes meet your gaze.

Steve.

Before you have time to react, your attention is pulled away by Mrs. Harrington. She leans in toward you for an air kiss to your cheek and a half-hearted hug. “It’s so good to see you, darling!” she exclaims into your ear, making you flinch. Pulling back, she continues. “It feels like ages since we saw you last.”

As you default to a smile in response, the woman’s brows knit and her perfectly painted lips flick downwards. Her gaze, laser focused on your mouth, makes you feel exposed.

And then, there it is.

“Oh,” she begins, running her hand down your arm, voice laden with disapproval. “Was Doctor Nelson unable to close in your gap?” Doctor Nelson; the orthodontist Mrs. Harrington had given your mom the number of before you went to college.

Mrs. Harrington can nitpick the cleanliness of your mother’s house. She can criticize the quality of the cooking. She can even insult the lack of attention given to that stupid begonia. But the one thing that your mother will not allow Mrs. Harrington to do is berate her daughter.

“Her smile is gorgeous just the way it is, wouldn’t you say?” Your mother injects sharply.

The Harrington matriarch raises an eyebrow and answers curtly. “Of course.”

Head spinning, your attention is drawn back to Steve. He looks the part of high-class son with a navy blazer resting over top a crisp, white dress shirt. But said shirt is neatly tucked into a pair of dark jeans - a look that is still very much Steve. It makes him appear slick and cool, just like he did in high school. Yet, despite his attire, the Steve Harrington that stands in your doorway lacks the confidence you had been used to seeing from him back at Hawkins High.

His gaze finds yours once again, and you’re met with a partial smile and a quiet nod. It’s certainly a stark contrast to how things used to be.

As if suddenly remembering he had accompanied them, Mr. Harrington voices, with little sincerity, that he hopes it is all right to have brought along his son. Your mother shoots you a sympathetic glance before giving a dismissive not-a-bother wave to her house guests. She then whisks away to add another place setting to the dining table.

Fall 1981

Hawkins High. Its ivory halls with orange and green stripes are a foreign passageway towards your future.

Your head bobs up and down, double, triple checking the piece of paper in your hands that identifies the location of your new locker. Silently counting the numbers as you go, you dodge sophomores, juniors, and seniors who cheerfully reunite with one another after summer break. They pay no mind to the likes of new freshmen such as yourself.

Finally, you find the metal door set aside for you. It’s stiff from months of disuse and creaks when you manage to pry it open. You set your backpack down and begin unloading your repurposed binders and supplies, stacking them neatly into the metal cubical. As you work, a group of girls gathers nearby. Their excitement, much like the fruity aroma of their perfume, drifts towards you as they begin comparing flashy school supplies and fashion accessories.

You know all four of them, of course. They are part of the cohort coming up from Hawkins Middle School, too. Except, summer has treated them well. They’ve slimmed down and grown taller. Each girl sports the latest Stevie Nicks-inspired blowout as well as the newest tops and skirts that you had seen while passing by store windows in Indianapolis. Surrounded by their giggles, you pluck at the hem of your t-shirt, wondering if anyone will remember it from the previous school year.

As you arrange the last of your belongings, your ears are met with a familiar voice counting locker numbers out loud. Turning around quickly with a large, toothy smile at the ready, you find Steve pacing up the hallway. Relief floods you, reassured that you will be facing the first day of high school with your best friend.

Enthusiastically, you raise a hand to wave him over and his hazel eyes flit towards you. The moment, however, is fleeting as Steve’s gaze quickly shifts back to an approaching Tommy H. Your friend greets the other boy with an eyebrow raised skeptically while Tommy thrusts a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing at the group of girls nearby. You follow the stare of the two boys and realize immediately what now has them grinning ear to ear.

“Oh. My. God!” squeals one girl to the rest. “He’s looking this way!”

“Steve got so hot over the summer, it’s totally unreal,” replies one companion. She smacks her pink bubble gum to emphasize her point.

Another giggles while biting her lip. “I know right?!” She unsubtly flashes her large, mascara-painted lashes across the hallway towards the object of her affection. “He’s so tall, and he let his hair grow.”

All girls then coyly shift their bodies towards Steve and Tommy, twirling strands of their perfectly styled hair around hot-pink-tipped index fingers.

Tommy H is grinning like the devil. He’s lapping up the attention and gives Steve a teasing shove. And to your surprise, Steve’s smile widens, returning flirty glances towards the girls that make them erupt into a fit of even more giggles.

The world around you seemingly falls away. You are invisible, and it feels as though you’ve been slapped across the face. Worse yet, the sight of Steve soaking up the attention from those girls causes your gut to clench in an unfamiliar way. You watch helplessly as both Steve and Tommy beckon the four teens to their side, flirty smiles and playful banter sucking the oxygen from the hallway. You need to get out of here.

Turning, you slam your locker door shut just a little too hard and cram your eyes closed to disguise the tears that threaten to fall. Your first day of high school marked the last day of your friendship with Steve. For the rest of your time at Hawkins High, you gave him a wide berth. Though, never a day went by when you didn’t hope that King Steve, as he would soon become, might have a change of heart and come back to his best friend.

The six of you gather around the wooden dining table; its meager size sparing just enough room for the abundance of steaming food laid out across its top. A delicious mix of savory aromas fill your nostrils as you move towards your seat. Mr. Harrington and your father take their places at opposite ends, while mothers sit next to their children to complete the ensemble. You gather the skirt of your dress and smooth it behind your legs before finally sinking down onto the fruit-patterned cushion of your chair. Glancing upwards, your gut somersaults. The evening’s seating arrangements just so happen to have Steve placed directly across from you.

Pleasant ‘thank yous’ are passed around the table with casseroles of food as guests and hosts alike spoon out portions to complete their plates. “Scrumptious spread as always,” complements Mrs. Harrington while handing a ceramic gravy boat to her husband. “Thank you for having us.” You can never be sure by her sickly-sweet tone whether the praise is genuine or not.

“Our pleasure,” responds your mother, brows furrowing with worry. Her eyes dart around the tabletop for any sign of missing items. You place a calming hand on her lap, reassuring her that her dinner is perfect.

A brass light fixture, with its surrounding glass panes, hangs overhead and casts the space in a warm glow. The cozy atmosphere matches the sounds of clinking utensils and muffled chewing that befall the small room. Pleasant conversation about the weather and current events soon follows while food is enjoyed. But as your head turns to track from one speaker to the next, your body is rigid with nerves. You refuse to meet Steve’s gaze even though you can feel those hazel eyes wander across your face in careful contemplation.

Finally, while tipping your glass of soda to your lips, you sneak a glance across the table. What you find are the freckle-smattered features of the boy you grew up with, except now his youth has waned, leaving behind a grown man with weary eyes and a faded smile.

The tendons in Steve’s hand shift as he uses his fork to glide a slice of beef around his plate and coat it in golden-brown gravy. Then, as Steve lifts the utensil towards his mouth, his darkened eyes catch onto yours through the stray locks dangling across his forehead. You quickly avert your gaze.

What is he playing at? Why did he even come here tonight?

In fact, Steve had stopped coming to business dinners a long time ago – right around that fateful first day of high school. Initially, you had thought you had done something to push him away, but your mother was quick to reassure you that Steve’s decisions were no fault of yours. That sometimes people just change.

Perhaps that was true then and is once again true now. Had Steve finally let go of who he was in high school? Had he come here to –

The sound of your name makes you jump. You quickly shift your attention back to the conversation.

“So,” continues Mr. Harrington through a mouthful of buttered dinner roll. “I hear that you’ll be going into your last year of college this fall. Time certainly does fly. What a wonderful accomplishment!”

The compliment from the usually stony Harrington patriarch puts your defences on high alert.

“Yes, sir,” you answer as politely and cautiously as you can. “I had an internship for my first two summers but decided to spend a summer at home after all that’s happened in Hawkins the last while.”

From the corner of your eye, you notice Steve’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly.

“Very good,” the businessman agrees before shifting focus to his son. “She got into Tech, Steven. Isn’t that something.” His words drip with ridicule, purposely crafted to drive a proverbial knife into his son and twist the blade. And from the way that the colour drains from Steve’s cheeks, you can assume that they’ve achieved their purpose.

Suddenly you feel queasy; there’s a pull inside your chest that you haven’t felt in ages. No matter how terrible Steve had made you feel in the past, he still doesn’t deserve to be treated this way by his own father.

“Steve works at WSQK now,” his mother attempts to smooth over. “He’s learning about all the fancy gadgets they use there in broadcasting.”

Steve parts his lips to contribute, only to be shot down.

Steve’s knuckles blanch from the grip he has on his fork. The tendon in his neck pulls taut, and it seems to be taking all his willpower to keep his breathing level.

“Always had an aversion to real work, this boy.” Mr. Harrington’s voice grows deeper, more empowered. “Too scared to get into college and too stubborn to accept a job from his old man.”

“Such a waste, really.” His father concludes, casting a demeaning gaze down upon his son.

And just as you think Steve might combust, your own father jumps in. “I’ve seen you hard at work around town, Steve,” he offers to the young man. “You were especially helpful at the volunteer center when the community needed it most.”

“Yes, that’s right!” your mother chimes in. “We had brought over food that day and Steve was generously helping in the kitchen. Speaking of food, who’s ready for dessert?”

Summer 1977

It feels as though you are being pulled. Tugged harder and harder by an invisible force away from the blissful comfort of nothingness and towards something you can’t quite put a finger on. It tugs and tugs until your senses begin to regain consciousness.

Ringing.

You suddenly recognize the sound of the landline announcing itself from its place on the foyer wall between the kitchen and the staircase.

A coarse groan leaves your throat as you begrudgingly slip out of bed - the perks of your room being closest to the stairs. You rub your eyes, trying to force them to adjust to the lack of light in the early morning hours. A hand on the wooden banister guides you down the carpeted steps, footing growing more sure the farther you progress. The phone, meanwhile, continues to ring incessantly.

“Hello?” you manage after picking up, vocal cords still groggy from sleep.

A pitifully quiet voice speaks your name from the other end of the receiver.

“Steve?” you question, your 10-year-old, sleep-addled brain working hard to decipher why he would be calling at this hour.

It’s after his next words jolt you awake that you remember that his parents had left him alone for a weekend business retreat.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, “but I thought I heard someone trying to get into the house and…”

Steve Harrington is the bravest person you know; hearing the fear that laces his voice drops your stomach to your toes.

“I’m gonna go get mom and dad,” you blurt out. You speak his name and clutch the receiver in both palms. “Stay on the line. I’ll be rightback!” You don’t set the phone down until you hear him manage a small “okay”.

Your parents spring into action without question. After getting Steve to reluctantly hang up, your three-person family is piled into your clunky station wagon and speeding the short distance across town towards the Harrington residence.

The house towers in its little corner of suburbia, magnificent even in the darkness. It takes calm knocks and calling through the large wooden door before Steve will open up. As he does, brightness from every possible light fixture pours out into the night while Steve stands sheepishly in the doorway.

Immediately you jump in, knocking him off balance with the force of your tight hug. Steve’s cheeks flush from embarrassment, but your mother instills further assurance. “I’m glad you called, Steve. You did the right thing,” she soothes, before adding that your father has set off to inspect the outside of the home. Concern for the boy growing, she then asks him about his parents.

“I don’t know the hotel they’re at,” he admits with a shrug. “They didn’t leave the number.”

“It’s okay, hon,” comforts your mother. “Go grab a few things. You can stay with us until they get back.”

You watch as Steve’s features flood with relief, though his eyebrows raise as if asking “really?”. Your mother nods with an affirming smile and ushers the two of you to go upstairs and pack.

You return a few minutes later with Steve’s brand-new Nike sports duffel filled with sleepwear, everyday clothes and toiletries. Your father gives the all-clear, but Steve still looks guilty for having dragged your family out of bed for seemingly nothing. “It’s better to be safe, son,” your father reiterates as he gives the boy a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder.

Once back at your house, extra linen and a spare pillow are gathered to create a makeshift bed on the floor of your room. Unlike the Harringtons’, your cozy little two-storey only boasts enough space for two modest bedrooms. Though it lacks grandeur or expensive furnishings, tonight your house is perfect for the boy who simply needs a home.

The adrenaline from earlier has subsided and sleep once again threatens to overtake you. You lie belly-up underneath your pink fleece blanket; its satin edges tickle the underside of your chin. Darkness coats your bedroom, causing your eyelids to droop. Yet, the shaky breaths sounding from the floor adjacent to you nudge you to speak up.

“Steve?” you whisper warily. “You okay?”

The boy releases an unconvincing hum. The silence that follows conveys his unease.

Finally, another whisper drifts up from the floor below. “I’m…scared.” The last word sticks to his tongue, almost refusing to be spoken.

You have never heard Steve admit that he was afraid of anything. He always trudges bravely into the unknown, sometimes even on your behalf. But hearing his voice tremble in the night just doesn’t sit right with you. Your young brain doesn’t fully comprehend it, but there is this pull inside your chest that desperately wants to be the one who is brave now – brave for your best friend, Steve.

An idea materializes in your thoughts, and quietly you ask, “Do you wanna lie up here?”

You half expect him to say no – Steve never usually likes to accept gestures that lessen his air of confidence – and that’s why you are so surprised when you hear a faint “yeah”.

Without hesitation, you lean over to turn on your bedside lamp. Its white-coloured shade, yellowing from age, casts an amber glow that spreads from its ceramic base, out towards the edges of your small room. You scoot over to the opposite side of your bed as Steve rises from the floor, gripping his borrowed pillow and blanket. He cautiously sets the items down and smooths out your bedsheet for him to lie on top of. Finally, the mattress dips as he stiffly settles himself down. The fragrance of clean laundry and minty toothpaste join him.

“You good?” you question gently as Steve pulls his sheet up to his chin. All you receive is a wordless nod.

In the pale lamplight you can still see the fear etched across Steve’s freckled profile. It burns your insides to witness his lack of a smile. “Steve,” you speak more seriously this time. “You’re safe here. It’s gonna be okay.”

The boy turns his cheek towards you, brown locks haloed by the light emanating from behind his head. His eyes, blackened by shadows, send a silent message of thanks.

“Good night,” he speaks softly, releasing a pent-up breath before turning over to shut off the lamp.

“‘Night, Steve,” you hum in return.

As Steve lies with his back to you, still not yet asleep, a protective feeling emerges from inside your chest. You watch the silhouette of his shoulders rise and fall. It’s unsteady at first, but as time passes, Steve’s breathing eventually evens out. It’s not until you hear his faint snores that you, too, allow yourself to drift off into dream land.

“Hey sweetie,” speaks the gentle voice of your mom entering the kitchen. “How are you holding up so far?”

Turning away from the metal sink where you’ve begun to wash the supper dishes, you give your mother a solemn nod.

She smiles softly back at you. “I know it can’t be easy having Steve here tonight, but he’s been relatively quiet. Ultimately, it is your choice, and I will support you no matter what, but from what I’ve seen, I don’t think he’s the same boy he was back then. Perhaps it may finally be time to talk things through.”

Your mother has always been your number one fan. Her advice has only ever steered you in the right direction. Plus, she was the one who dried your tears over what Steve had done. Her suggestion terrifies you, but deep down, there’s a wiggle in your gut that tells you that she’s right.

Giving her a resounding nod, you see hope flicker in her eyes. A reassuring smile is cradled on your lips as she leans in towards you. Her delicate hand rubs warm circles into your back while a loving kiss is placed on your cheek.

Just then, a familiar figure appears in the open archway to the kitchen. His hands are shoved into denim pockets as he takes a cautious step forward.

Your mother follows your line of sight, realizing what has suddenly turned your body rigid. She quickly grabs a plate of cookies, her skirt swaying as she darts away to pair the sweet treats with the tea already served in the living room.

Panic floods your veins, yet your feet feel glued to the floor. After seven years, you have no choice but to ultimately face Steve Harrington head on. God only knows how this encounter will unfold.

Avoiding the inevitable for at least a few seconds longer, you spin back around to the sink and plunge your hands into the steaming dishwater. Fluffy white suds splash back up and cling to the front of your dress.

A distinct voice sounds behind you. “Want some help?”

No.

Yes.

“Doesn’t matter.”

Steve then appears in your periphery like a dream. He effortlessly shrugs off his navy blazer and rolls the sleeves of his crisp dress shirt to the elbows. Collecting a dry towel from the front of the stove, he reaches into the sink for a clean plate and begins to wipe the moisture from its surface. The two of you fall into a silent synchrony: wash, rinse, dry. Wash, rinse, dry.

The oak cabinets with their curved trim flank the sink and the window above it. Steve remembers exactly where each piece of dinnerware belongs – he’s spent enough time in your house to have it engrained in his memory. Except, this time, he leaves them all in a neat stack on the counter, feeling more like an outsider than someone who once used to fit seamlessly into your home.

The last plate is in your grasp. The trickle of the tap pings against the basin of the secondary sink to your right. You place the dish beneath the flow and watch absentmindedly as water rinses the remaining suds away. Your true focus, however, is on the familiar presence beside you. You can feel warmth emanating from where he stands close by; the heady scent of his aftershave saturates your senses.

As your wrist twists to rinse off the opposite side of the plate, Steve’s hand reaches forward just a moment too soon. Your fingers brush against one another and neither person retreats. Your eyes travel from his hand, up the sun-kissed skin speckled with moles of his bare forearm.

Two pairs of eyes then meet. Green and amber flecks gleam back at you under the kitchen light; a war of uncertainty and hope waging on within them.

“Can we talk?” he asks, words released as barely a whisper.

Your chest tightens. Another silent moment passes where you are lost in your thoughts. Steve Harrington is here, standing beside you in your kitchen, seeking some sort of resolution to the happenings of the past.

“Okay,” you answer at last, giving an earnest nod. Steve’s lips form the barest of smiles.

Releasing the water from the sink, you dab your wet hands on a towel and begin to move towards the foyer. You glance back at Steve, whose dark eyebrows raise knowingly, before gathering his blazer and following you up the staircase.

Summer 1979

Eager eyes scan the adults headed into the living room, watch them take a seat; sip from their glasses. Peering around the corner, poised in front of the staircase, you decide that the coast is clear. “C’mon, Steve!” you grasp his hand and yank him towards the first step.

Always vigilant, your mother calls out. “Make sure to keep this music down this time, sweetheart!”

“Yes, mooooom.” A sing-song voice trails up the stairs, echoing your reply as you and Steve giggle to yourselves mischievously.

It’s a beeline for your bedroom – a safe haven from all the business talk and second nature by now for you and Steve. You both have tried staying downstairs with the adults, but all you end up hearing is your fathers discussing quarterly reports and your mothers trying to engage in pleasant conversation. For a pair of kids, it was just too boring! So lately, it didn’t matter if you were at your house or his, the narrative always ended up the same: music.

Putting out a hand, your fingertips brush along the textured wallpaper as you round the corner into your bedroom. Releasing Steve’s hand, you bolt straight for the shelf where you keep your records.

“Don’t look!” you chide, purposefully keeping your shoulders square and back to the boy who moves to plant himself cross-legged beside your bed.

“I’m not!” he whines in defence.

“Close your eyes!” Steve huffs without conviction at your demand but does exactly what you ask. His eyes move beneath soft lids as your shadow approaches.

You take the album you’ve slipped out from the stack and hold it in front of you; your nose and eyes are the only parts of your face now visible. “Okay! Open!”

Steve’s hazel eyes flash wide at the sight of a crisp, new album cover and your hopeful gaze staring back at him. His smile widens. The two of you had been excitedly talking about this album coming out for months.

“You got Candy-O!” he exclaims, and you allow The Cars’ newest album to slip lower to reveal your exaggerated grin.

“I did! Saved up enough allowance to buy it last week. Wanna play it? I haven’t opened it yet so that we could listen together!”

Steve’s features soften. You always took him into consideration, no matter what. “Actually,” Steve’s soft smile morphs into a smirk. “I wanna show you something too.” He raises a hand and waves for you to come over.

You scramble to Steve’s side and plunk yourself down onto the floor, back bouncing off the side of your mattress as you do. Anticipation bubbles through you, making you feel as though you’re going to pop.

Tonight, Steve is grateful that his mother always makes him wear a blazer to these dinners, even if it’s two sizes too big. The article gives him the perfect opportunity to spring a surprise on you – one that he knows will make you squeal and throw your arms around him for a hug.

Steve’s grin is now immeasurable. “So, I got Candy-O, too, but I’ll do you one better,” he begins. “Have no fear of being yelled at when we blast it because…” He reaches inside his blazer, fishing for the pocket before pulling out a Sony Walkman.

“NO. WAY!” You squeal, arms instinctually squeezing his shoulders into a side-hug. You stare at the device in awe. “How did you –” a tentative hand reaches out, but you’re still afraid to touch it. It couldn’t have been cheap.

Steve unceremoniously hands it over for you to inspect. “My dad pulled some strings and got me one.” Your fingers run delicately over the buttons and metallic logo that adorns the front case. Steve then leans over into your space, breath tickling your cheek. He touches a button, and the cassette door pops open. You read the tape that’s already inside and look up to meet Steve’s gaze. The space between your front teeth lights up your features. “Haven’t listened yet either,” he winks. “So, what’re we waiting for?!”

Steve clicks the Walkman closed before producing two sets of headphones which he plugs into twin audio jacks. He then hands you a pair, the two of you settling them atop your ears in unison. Steve delivers you an excited smile with a waggle of his eyebrows and presses the play button.

The funky synth of “Let’s Go” erupts into your ears. Your jaw drops in amazement. To your right, Steve bites his lip and begins to bop his head in time with the beat. He turns to glance at you, and you start mirroring his actions; the song’s peppy rhythm makes you buzz with excitement.

All that can be heard from the living room below is the patter of two pairs of feet that soon get up to dance along to the music.

The wooden banister guides your palm as you ascend the steps. It’s a route that should come second-nature to you, yet in this moment, it feels like a journey into the unknown. Your nerves mount with each step you climb; the soft thud of the extra set of footsteps behind you worsens the unease that grips your gut. You need to compose yourself.

At the top of the landing, you quickly turn to your guest. “I’ve got to use the washroom for a moment.” Steve’s lips part to respond, but you are already darting down the hallway before he gets the chance.

He knows where your room is. He’ll be alright for a few minutes on his own.

Steve continues onwards and locates the entrance to your bedroom - right where it used to be. The door sits half-open, and Steve uses his fingertips to gently push inside. Its hinges whine as they give way.

The small space is like a time-capsule. A shelf lines one wall with your vinyl records stacked neatly by the record player. The old ceramic lamp with its yellowed shade still sits atop the nightstand. Your bed is neatly made up with a floral comforter that Steve doesn’t recognize, but peaking out from beneath it is the same old pink blanket with satin edges. Next to your vanity, a corkboard hangs against the wall; a series of pushpins secure several polaroids to its porous surface. The collection mostly includes close-ups of elegant plants and flowers, but hanging near the edge is a photograph that stands out from the rest. A sunset. Pink and lavender swirls of colour are splashed above the silhouette of what looks to be a park. The scene stirs a memory deep inside of Steve and tugs at the strings inside his heart.

Summer 1981

“Hey, wanna get out of here?”

The proposition catches you off-guard, causing you to reopen your eyes to the evening light streaming in through the window. It casts patterns across the spacious room, bathing the blue and white grid-line wallpaper in a golden glow. Plush carpet cushions your head as you lay spread out across it, much like your companion beside you. In the background, the low pulse of a pop album drones on from a record player.

Your eyebrow lifts in question. Steve must sense your reservation because he quickly adds, “We could ride bikes – I still have that spare you can use – and we could just do whatever.”

You sit up then, brows sewing together and mind trying to decipher what is making Steve so antsy to escape. The teen mirrors your actions, propping two hands behind him as he scans your features for an answer.

“No one will even know we’re gone,” he attempts to reassure you. “We can sneak out…like ninjas.”

Your resolve cracks. A goofy smile curls the edges of Steve’s lips, and a laugh erupts through your nose. Shaking your head at his antics, you finally deliver your verdict. “As much as we used to practice being ninjas like fiveyearsago, I’m still not going to lie to my parents.”

Steve’s smile falters ever so slightly.

“Besides,” you turn up a corner of your mouth into a sly grin, “you catch more flies with honey.” A wink caps it all off, which lets Steve know you’re on board with ditching the confines of his bedroom in exchange for some fun.

The two of you scramble to your feet and laugh out into the hallway. The staircase is grand in comparison to yours, and you indulge in squishing your toes into its spongy beige carpeting as you compete to reach the landing first.

On the main floor, you lead the way into the expansive dining room where you find the Harringtons and your parents sat sipping expensive wine from equally expensive crystal goblets. Your mother grips her glass firmly as if it could jump out of her hand at any moment and shatter.

Coming into view with Steve behind you, your parents’ heads are the first to turn away from the conversation. You put on your most innocent smile and announce the reason for your appearance during business talk. “We’re just gonna go ride bikes for a bit, ‘kay?”

Your mother returns your smile, “Sure honey, just make sure that you’re home before ten.”

Nodding a silent thank you, you also turn towards your father where he, too, offers a reassuring grin.

“Thanks!” you chime before turning to skip past Steve and into the main foyer. You stick your tongue out at him for good measure as you pass by.

Being out of earshot, however, you don’t end up hearing how Mr. Harrington sternly calls to his son. “Have her back on time, Steven. And no fooling around.” Your early exit from the house also means that you don’t comprehend the resulting flush of embarrassment that still overtakes Steve’s once-joyful features when he meets you outside. But before you can quiz him on it, he dashes into the storage shed to retrieve a pair of bicycles.

At first, the two of you don’t have a plan. The wooded area around Steve’s home gives way to a growing number of houses as you travel along; the steady clack of bike chains at work and the rush of wind past your faces are the only sounds for several long minutes.

That’s what’s nice about having Steve as your best friend; you can be doing nothing at all – not even talking – and it feels so comfortable. Just knowing he’s there surrounds you in a sense of ease.

The summer’s heat is still in full swing despite how the sun has begun to lower towards the horizon. The stickiness of sweat clings under your arms and to the backs of your knees where they bend to help push the bike pedals along. Finally, you break the silence. “Should we get ice cream?”

Steve’s brown locks flutter in the breeze as he glances over at you. “Sounds perfect!”

Pedalling with purpose, the two of you find the local ice cream stand and each order two-scoop cones to go. It’s Steve’s idea to bring the sweet treats along for the ride until you find a better spot to enjoy them. You mumble your annoyance but ultimately love that the evening is turning into a bit of a silly adventure.

The rest of the ride is a wobbly one. One hand is on a handlebar while the other grips onto your cone for dear life. “This is impossible, Steve!” you giggle, front tire weaving as you crane your neck to lick up a trickle of melting cream.

“Aww, suck it up, buttercup!” he teases, edging his bicycle closer to yours on the roadway. Steve uses the proximity to lean over and bop the mushy tip of his cone on your nose.

“Hey!” you squeak, trying – to no avail – to clean up the cold, sweet substance with your tongue.

Steve starts laughing so hard that he nearly loses his balance. His tummy somersaults. His eyes grow wide, and he unleashes a little “whoaa!” before clumsily correcting his course.

Now it’s your turn to wear a Cheshire grin. “Neener neener!”

Steve sticks his tongue out at you before taking a long, spiteful lick of his ice cream.

The ride continues for a short distance until you find yourselves at the local park. Lush green grass spreads out over its expanse. An empty playground sits tucked into one corner. Tall trees, thick with emerald leaves, line the park’s perimeter, yet a small break in the treeline provides an unobstructed view into the distance. You hold Steve’s cone as he props up your bikes, making sure to sneak a lick when his back is turned.

An old, wooden park bench becomes your resting spot, its splintering edges a welcome respite while you enjoy your cold treat.

“How can you eat that stuff?” recoils Steve after having accepted the taste you offered him.

“Bubble gum is the best!” you state matter-of-factly. “Ice cream meets bubble gum chunks. Perfection!”

“Eugh,” he exaggerates again. “I tell ya, classic butterscotch is where it’s at.”

“Agree to disagree.” You nudge Steve’s shoulder with your own. He returns a grunt that holds no heat.

Comfortable chatter continues between you - talk about music and movies, middle school blunders and local town gossip - until you both crunch down the last of your dessert.

The summer sun now dips below the horizon, casting the sky above Hawkins in streaks of pink and lavender. A silence descends as the two of you sit in awe of the beautiful sight.

As you take in your surroundings, thoughts begin to swirl in your mind. “I can’t believe we’ll be starting high school in a few weeks.”

Steve exhales deeply beside you. “Don’t remind me.”

“I wish we could stay fourteen forever.” Without thinking, you gently lay your head against Steve’s shoulder. His warmth seeps into your cooling skin. “I love hanging out with you,” you add with a wistful smile. “You just get me and all my weird.”

You don’t know it, but the weight of your head tipped against him is the only thing keeping Steve from floating away. You’re the only person in his life who truly seems to want to spend time with him. And, as the lavender sky darkens to an indigo hue, Steve carefully sets his head on top of yours, too. It’s a simple gesture, but he hopes it’s enough to show you that he feels the same way about you.

The tenderness of his action sets off a million butterflies in your stomach and suddenly, as you sit on the worn park bench watching the setting sun, the only person you can imagine ever being here with is Steve.

The intimate moment, however, barely has time to linger before Steve abruptly straightens up. Your cheek slides off his cotton t-shirt and a rumble reverberates from within his chest as he awkwardly clears his throat.

“It’s getting dark,” he speaks stiffly before switching his tone to one of friendly banter. He turns to give you a signature smirk. “Gotta make sure to get you home. Don’t wanna be late for that ten-p.m. curfew.”

It’s impossible to not return a full smile. “Oh, shut up, Harrington. You love my folks, too.”

As the two of you pedal back home under the glow of streetlamps, you can’t help but wonder if there was more to what happened on the bench. And more importantly, whether Steve had felt it too.

“Get it together, girl!” you exclaim internally into the bathroom mirror. A low clap from dual pats to your cheeks sounds off in the cramped bathroom as you try unsuccessfully to calm the flock of birds taking flight in your stomach.

Your mind flashes back to that moment in the kitchen. Why had your heart skipped a beat at a simple, innocent touch? Your cheeks had flushed, too, while observing his features. Steve’s appearance has certainly matured, yet he is still unmistakably good-looking – perhaps even more so than you last remember. His chestnut hair had lightened at the tips; his jaw had become sharper at its base. His hazel eyes are now bordered by hooded lids and dark lashes. The frame of Steve’s body had even grown more defined than it was in high school. Objectively, Steve Harrington had developed into a handsome young man.

But as you continue to peer at yourself in the mirror, that old adversary inside your head grows louder. Not much is different about you. Sure, you had let your hair grow a little longer and had styled it for the evening. And sure, your lashes have a coat of mascara spread across them. But those are superficial additions. Everything else about your appearance remains relatively unchanged. Your curves are still larger than the beauty queens of high school and college. Your clothes are still relatively inexpensive compared to the chic attire adorned by the Harringtons downstairs. And your smile…

Tentatively you part your lips, and the shadow of your gap immediately emerges into view.

Was Doctor Nelson unable to close in your space? Mrs. Harrington’s words bounce around in your brain like they are part of a game of pinball.

The grip you have on the edges of the porcelain sink tightens, eyes cramming shut. No wonder it had never crossed Steve’s mind that you could be together. You were nothing like the effortlessly beautiful girls he always had on his arm in high school.

October 1984

A shrill screech sounds off from down the hallway, causing your textbooks to clatter to the floor with a resonating thud. Alarmed, you turn quickly towards the sound, but your heart sinks when you take in the source of the commotion.

Nancy Wheeler is clutched around her middle and being twirled in the air by a joyful Steve Harrington. Her reaction has him laughing in a way that he only used to with you. Perfectly styled chestnut locks bounce in front of his forehead as he peers at his girlfriend through a pair of large sunglasses. Nancy thwacks Steve’s arm while his fingers move to grip the small of her back. He leans in to cradle her face. And then his lips are on hers –

You rapidly turn away, bending to pick up your fallen books. Straightening, your thoughts betray you for the thousandth time.

Nancy Wheeler. When Steve first began pursuing her, you thought she would just be another notch in his belt. All the flirting and kissing…surely, he only wanted in her pants. But then months turned into a year, and Steve seemed to genuinely be in love.

And you suppose that is the thing that eats you up the most.

You like Nancy. Even though she’s a year younger than you, she is hardworking and takes her education seriously – a trait that you both share. Plus, Nancy is just plain nice – totally unlike the stuck-up girls Steve had dated in the past. No matter how hard you try, it’s difficult to find any valid reason to dislike her.

Except…Nancy is also naturally beautiful, and you hate how jealousy has creeped into your bones because of it.

She has a petite frame and girl-next-door charm with a perfect smile to match. It appears when Steve whispers all those little I love yous and gazes at her with an affection you’ll never know. The feeling squeezes at your heart and forms a lump in your throat, allowing self-doubt to gnaw its way into your thoughts: “Maybe if you were just a little prettier or a little more charismatic, that could be you instead.”

Hearing the pair continue to flirt across the hall sends your tongue brushing up against your front teeth inside your mouth. The muscle pokes its way between the gap. “No,” you tell yourself as you turn back to see Steve walking off with Nancy tucked lovingly under his arm. “Your brain and your smile make you, you! No one can take that away. And someday, someone will be happy with you just as you are.”

Silent footsteps carry you down the hallway towards your room. Peeking in through the wooden doorway, you find Steve with his back turned. Golden light from beyond the window outlines his figure. Broad shoulders are stooped; locks of dark hair fall forward as his head peers down at something held delicately in his hand.

A subtle shift in your weight sets the floorboards creaking, and the sudden noise causes Steve to flinch. He turns quickly on his heels to find you glancing down at his fingertips.

His cheeks flush, appearing like a deer in headlights. Yet, as Steve quickly moves to refasten the polaroid to its place on the board, he regains his nerve and delivers a comment in the fondest of tones. “It doesn’t quite look the same as the night we were there.”

Your heart begins to hammer against your ribs.

He remembers.

But how do you answer him? How do you admit that no matter how hard you tried to throw that little piece of plastic away, you simply couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Not when it bared such a striking resemblance to a night that had been so simple and so perfect.

Buying time, you shift towards the record shelf that resides to your right. Pensively, you trace a finger across the stacked spines. Music had been such an important part of your friendship, saving the two of you from many the business dinner, just like the one being hosted today.

Chancing a look over your shoulder, you find that Steve has not moved; his attention is fully focused on you. Those kind eyes wait patiently for you to be ready to speak. As you study his features, your mind suddenly whisks you back to tonight’s dinner table. You recollect how Steve's tanned cheeks had paled at his father’s words. How the curve of his throat had swallowed coarsely and the tendon within had tightened under so much strain.

You know exactly what needs to be said.

June 1985

This is it. Tonight is the end of an era.

With a raised chin, Steve smooths down the satin lapels of his black suit and straightens his matching tie. He takes a long, hard look at himself in the mirror. Staring back at him is the image of an 18-year-old man with perfectly styled hair and expensive attire, yet underneath is a lost boy who grew up too fast.

Steve exhales unsteadily as he checks his watch. Time to go.

But as he makes his way towards the staircase of his home, the harsh sound of an argument rises from the space from below. Steve pauses, heart sinking as he listens in.

“Why aren’t you dressed yet, dear?” exclaims his mother with frustration. “We have to be there in ten minutes!”

A sharp, unfeeling tone answers back. “You know very well why not!”

The tension downstairs grows palpable. “This is your only son’s graduation! It’s a significant accomplishment for him!”

“Significant?!” Mr. Harrington’s already deep voice booms louder. “He barely squeezed by! He slacked off, his grades went to shit, and he got rejected from Tech. What kind of accomplishment is that!”

Steve’s gut churns.

“He’s a teenager!” the woman argues back.

“Well, maybe if you’d kept on top of his behaviour, we wouldn’t be in this situation!” Steve doesn’t need to see the scene unfold to know that his father’s face is flushed, with wide eyes and that vein in his temple threatening to burst.

The feminine voice of his mother scoffs and retaliates, “I can’t very well stay home all the time, now, can I? Not when I need to follow you around and make sure you’re not off screwing your secretary!”

That's it. There’s a storm of emotion brewing inside Steve, and he doesn’t know how it will erupt if he sticks around any longer. He descends the stairs two at a time and slams the front door on his way out. If neither of his parents showed up tonight, so be it!

He plunks himself into the driver’s seat of his burgundy BMW and roughly twists the keys in the ignition. The engine rumbles to life and Steve wastes no time throwing the car into gear. For a moment, his vision is blurred as he poises with an arm behind the passenger’s seat to reverse the vehicle. He quickly blinks the watery obstruction away before speeding off to his high school for one final time.

Once back in the gymnasium of Hawkins High, a standard gown and cap are thrust at Steve to wear and he is ushered to his assigned seat. Triumphant music swells, signalling the beginning of the ceremony causing a pit to settle heavily inside Steve’s stomach.

His knee bounces restlessly beneath the long, silky fabric of his gown as person after person is called to the stage. Steve knows that his mother is sitting a few rows behind with palms poised elegantly on her thighs. An expensive suit and blazer with prominent shoulder pads adorn her figure. Round earrings dwarf her earlobes, and an effortless smile is pasted across painted lips. But Steve also knows that there is a reserved seat beside her that remains unfilled. He doesn’t need to hear it to know that excuses for her husband are being whispered to anyone who will listen.

The sound of your name being called propels Steve back into the present. He watches in awe as you elegantly ascend the stage towards the awaiting principal. The distinct sound of your mom and dad’s cheers from the crowd draws your attention out into the audience. You feign embarrassment, but it’s the gorgeous, full smile that breaks out across your face that shows how truly special this moment is for you.

The principal announces your college plans as you shake his hand and collect your diploma. The accomplishment earns applause from the crowd. And in that moment, with the spotlight framing your features, Steve’s heart swells. He recognizes how hard you’ve worked to earn this moment, and he feels something tug at him from within his chest.

He acted like a giant asshole towards you, choosing popularity and flirty girls over his best friend. Yet, despite how he treated you, you never let it stop you from being the best version of yourself. Not once did you bend to social norms and now look at how bright you shine.

You were the one person who cared about him unconditionally. Together you’d jam out to music and ride bikes until dusk. You were the person who saved him from the monotony of business dinners…and you were the person who calmed him when he felt afraid. That tug inside his chest grows stronger. Steve selfishly wishes he still had you; still had the person he’s loved all along.

After several more students pass, it’s finally Steve’s turn to be called up. He stands, straightening his gown before taking a deep breath. When he climbs the steps and looks out into the audience, he doesn’t search for his mother. Instead, he searches for you. But when he finds you sitting there with diploma in hand, he sees you looking on with indifference. And it’s then that Steve is forced to accept that having you back in his life is just not meant to be.

Gathering your courage, you shift until your body is fully aligned with Steve. Your words are spoken with utmost honesty. “I’m sorry that you had to deal with that, your father – at dinner.”

A corner of Steve’s mouth turns down subtly. “Thanks,” he replies, shaking his head, “but it’s all par for the course.” He gives a dismissive wave of his hand before folding his arms protectively against his chest. His gaze shifts meekly away from yours.

“Still,” you press, wringing your fingers together and taking a step forward. Regardless of what has happened in the past, that pull inside you needs Steve to understand that you would never take sides with his father. “Careers and degrees don’t define who we are.”

You catch Steve’s lip pinching briefly in the form of a smile. His eyes glance back up at you.

A heavy silence descends, and you watch the way that Steve regards you. There is no scrutiny, only something that can only be described as affection.

“How do you do it?” The sound of his voice breaks through the quiet and makes you aware of how little distance there actually is between you.

“Do what?” you manage.

Steve stands up a little straighter, smiles a little broader. “How do you always manage to lift me up? Make me feel better about myself?”

The muscles in your eyebrows arch, lips parting in soundless shock. That rapid heartbeat in your chest now thrums loudly in your ears.

“I never realized how much you gave me until it was completely gone,” he adds.

A thickness forms in your throat. Your brain is a jumble of words that plop onto your tongue, but you have no idea how to express them.

Your silence and lack of objection provide Steve with the opportunity to continue. He rakes a hand through his thick hair nervously. “I guess you’re wondering why I showed up tonight…after all this time.” He then speaks your name, soft, tender. Sincere. “I’m sorry.”

The dam breaks and a strangled breath chokes out from your lungs. The two simple words that you’ve waited seven long years to hear have been spoken at last.

The room around you blurs. Your head feels like it’s spinning.

“Look,” Steve gestures with one hand, shifting to rest his hips against your windowsill. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I just had to -”

You honestly don’t know what comes over you. A heat swirls up from inside, spreading like wildfire from your toes to your cheeks. With it, erupts several years of pent-up emotion, emotion that you thought you had locked safely away.

“Dammit, Steve!” you exclaim in a tone so raw that even you don’t recognize it. “You ripped my heart out when you chose Tommy H. on that first day of high school!”

Steve recoils at your intensity, yet winces from your truths. He hasn’t come here to justify his actions from the past. “I know,” he admits, hurt evident in his creased brow. “I have no excuse for treating you the way I did. I got so caught up with my ego and then in all the crazy shit that happened in town that by the time I came to my senses, you wouldn’t even look at me. I should have sought you out, but the more time that passed, the weirder it felt to even try.”

Anger subsides into heartache. “I would have listened,” you murmur. Tears prickle at your lash line. Steve’s face visibly falls. “I only kept my distance so I wouldn’t get hurt. I still cared for you, Steve. You were my best friend, and a part of me always hoped that you would remember that.”

Years of regret are etched across Steve’s face. “I’ve missed you more than you could ever know,” he confesses. This is the most vulnerable you’ve seen him since that night when you were kids.

The familiar pull inside your chest returns, but this time it urges you to let yourself be vulnerable too. “I’ve missed you too. So much.”

Steve allows himself to smile. Hopeful. “Do you think we can start over? I know I’ve fucked up, but would you be willing to give me another shot?”

There’s no apprehension within you, no sense of unease. You nod affirmatively and return him a smile.

Steve’s demeanour brightens, dimples appearing on his cheeks as he moves to the side of your bed. He kneels and lowers himself to sit on the floor. His squared shoulders rest against the side of your mattress, much taller than when you were kids. You observe him curiously as Steve slides his denim-clad knees upwards and rests his forearms atop them. Toes wiggle against the carpet in black dress socks. Peering up at you with a cheeky grin, Steve motions for you to join.

Your eyes narrow fondly at the familiarity, crossing the short distance to gingerly set your body down next to his.

Steve turns his gaze on you, swirls of green and brown circle his irises. Then, he reaches into his blazer, fishing for the pocket. A second later, his hand produces a cherished sight: the Walkman.

Reaching in again, he retrieves two sets of headphones. Joy shines through the rosy tint of your cheeks.

“Care for a listen?” he grins back, eyes crinkling at the corners. With a wink he adds, “For old time’s sake.”

Steve extends a hand, allowing the metallic band of a headset to dangle on his outstretched index finger. Reaching, you accept and settle the orange foam pads overtop your ears. Steve mirrors your actions and double checks the connections.

“Ready?” he motions with raised eyebrows.

Your enthusiastic nod is his green light.

You ready yourself to take in the music by turning your focus to your lap. The play button clicks and the next thing you know, the funky synth of “Let’s Go” fills your ears.

A warmth bubbles through you, and you release a wet laugh. Turning back to face Steve, you find him already admiring your reaction. Playfully, you knock your knee against his, offering him a broad smile that places your gap on full display.

And just as the chorus rolls into the second verse, Steve reaches to remove his headphones. You follow his lead, concerned that something might be wrong. Strands of chestnut hair stick up comically on Steve’s head; a stark juxtaposition to the serious expression that now stares back at you.

The quaint room has grown shadows as the evening sun begins to fade. Your pulse quickens with the intensity of the moment.

“I’m glad you didn’t get it closed in,” Steve finally remarks, words calm. Deliberate.

“Huh?” you utter, your brows marrying as you try to decipher his meaning.

“What my mom said earlier. Your gap.”

Your tongue brushes over top of the feature inside your mouth.

“Your smile,” Steve’s chest expands as he takes an unsteady breath. “It’s…”

Unique?

Cool?

Nice?

“Beautiful.”

Oh.

As you absorb his words, you’re suddenly hyper-aware of how close the two of you are; how the small distance buzzes with a magnetic charge. You admire the gentle slope of his nose and the birthmarks that dot his complexion. The scent of his aftershave and something distinctly Steve surrounds you. Once again, that pull inside your chest resurfaces, encircling your heart and tugging with all its might in the direction of Steve. Your Steve.

Soft words break you out of your trance. “You know, I think it has always been something more than friendship.”

Butterflies explode inside your stomach. Your insecurities melt away.

“That evening in the park,” continues Steve, eyes searching your face. “I felt something that I didn’t know I could; like you were my home, and I wanted to stay there forever.”

It hadn’t just been you.

Steve then places a hand tentatively on yours. Your skin tingles with the heat of his touch. “Did you feel it too?” he implores, trepidatiously, as if he were a fourteen-year-old boy again.

You nod and, with a whisper, say, “I don’t think I ever stopped.”

“Neither did I.”

And then the two of you are moving. Leaning together, you wrap your arms around his neck and hug Steve tightly. Steve responds in kind, large palms splaying across your back and pulling you flush against him as if you fit together like two lost pieces of the same puzzle.

Unspoken words of love transpire between you as you hold each other close.

And in that moment, you both understand that home is the person who accepts you just the way you are.

Thank you for reading! If you've made it this far, I'd love to hear your thoughts! 🩷 And please consider reblogging your favorite fics 😊

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the-witty-pen-name · 7 months ago

Text

The Love Triangle From Hell (3)

Steve Harrington x F!Reader / Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Synopsis: Following PART TWO, Steve feels even more distant from his friends- especially you; Eddie reflects on memories he has of you two; Nancy and Jonathan work together for the paper; Robin does her best to navigate what being friends with you and Steve looks like; you seek comfort in one of the only ways you know how- calling Eddie

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: messy messy feelings; unrequited love; cursing; arguments; crying; angst angst angsty angst; allusions to violence; miscommunication; jealousy; kissing; implications of smut; horniness

A/N: You guys are literally the absolute best. I am having the best time writing this- I'm so inspired by all of you. The love you have shown this fic so far has me overwhelmed. Thank you for your kind words, you have helped me work through some serious writer's block. Your comments and reblogs are keeping me going fr

This is unedited; please let me know what you think and if I missed anything I should include as a warning.

This series with be 18+ in later chapters MINORS DNI

His hands are tangled in your hair and he’s pulling you in close for another searing kiss. He can’t catch his breath, but he’s just so desperate to stay close to you like this. Your lips are so soft against his and your mouth is so inviting as you yank him closer. You whimper against his lips and it makes him shiver. He feels weak in the knees as you feel so pliable to his touch. You melt into his embrace and sigh happily as his lips trail down your neck.

“Want you,” you moan softly, tugging his hair. He groans at the sensation. “Need you so bad.”

“‘M gonna take care of you,” he promises, bringing his lips back to yours.

“Love you,” you moan.

Before he finds out if he says it back, his alarm goes off and he’s brought back to his reality. He groans disappointedly, covering his ears with his pillow- desperate for a couple more minutes with dream you. There’s a bang at his door.

“Steve! Turn that shit off!” Eddie calls from the other side of the door. He’s yelling but his tone is playful. Steve hits his alarm off and drudges out of bed finally. Eddie has coffee made and Steve forgets anything is wrong at the moment.

“Did she say anything last night?” Steve asks groggily as he pours himself a cup.

“Um, not really,” Eddie replies, taking a moment to think about it. “I mean, yes but not about anything that we don’t know already. She’s conflicted, she doesn’t know what to think or feel. She just wants time.”

“Okay,” Steve replies, leaning up against the counter. He takes a sip of his coffee. He needs to get to work. He can talk about this with Robin when he gets there.

When you called Eddie, you didn’t expect Steve to answer. You thought maybe he’d say something- you wanted him too. But he didn’t. You couldn’t read him anymore.

Eddie was thrilled to hear your voice. He’d missed you, and he’d missed talking to you. He wanted that piece back as soon as he could get it. He reveled in the way his name sounded coming from you.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize, “I didn’t mean to upset Steve- I heard the way he dropped the phone down…”

“It’s okay sweetheart,” he says compassionately. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He’s met with a sad feeling of silence.

“I’m happy you called,” he says gently. He hopes the sentiment makes you feel better.

“I’ve missed you,” you admit, and Eddie feels like his heart might swell out of his chest.

“It’s hard when the two people who you talk about everything with are the people you want to talk about,” you joke, and he laughs with you.

“You can talk shit about me,” he teases and he hears you groan. He bites his lip, holding back a smile.

“How are you doing?” You ask, changing the subject.

“Much better now,” he flirts.

“How are you doing, really?” You ask again, your voice sounding more fragile.

“I meant, honestly- not great. But not worse than anyone else is doing right now.”

“Yeah…”

“I miss you a lot too,” he admits. He runs a hand through his hair, and it reminds him of how amazing it felt the last time you played with his hair. He’s craving that touch so badly.

When you both were in high school, Eddie went out of his way to make sure you always had a seat at the table. He’d notice as you stood with your cafeteria tray, waiting for Steve to realize there was no open seat for you at his table. He’d wave obnoxiously to catch your eye and he’d smile at the way you’d get shy from the attention. He’d point at the empty seat next to him, and he’d grin as your eyes light up in realization you had a spot. You’d shuffle through the crowd and take your seat next to him. You’d take a seat and ruffle his hair in your hands.

Eddie was always a creature of habit. As much as he exudes chaos, he actually thrives in having a routine. Don’t get him wrong- it’s never been a good routine… but it’s routine nonetheless. In high school it was a lot of the same. Tuesdays, Corroded Coffin played at The Hideout. He would get home way too late and never get in bed until close to 3am. Wednesday mornings, he’d sleep through his alarm and stroll into first period consistently 10ish minutes late. Thursdays he prepped for Hellfire, and then of course, the piece the resistance was Friday. Hellfire. An epic campaign that would run several hours and ensure the most recent shit week had been worth it to make it to that moment.

He remembers that he was paralyzed when the group proposed to postpone Hellfire one time his first senior year. It snaps him out of his thoughts, as he was so wrapped up in you- and how close you were sitting. Eddie knew that hypothetically, it shouldn’t matter if the date changes. However, he couldn’t wrap his head around change. He hated it- still does. A disruption from his status quo throws off his entire week and it will take him too long to mentally recover. He knew that he came off as a hard ass, but he prefers it than trying to explain his mind to his friends. He had felt his jaw tighten as he tried to rationalize with himself that it can be okay to switch it up. He unclenched his fists once he realized that he was making his knuckles white unintentionally.

“Uh yeah, no problem. Saturday’s fine,” he was able to manage through gritted teeth. He relaxed when he could look past himself and see his friends smile, thanking him and happily chatting about the campaign. He smiled when he observed that his decision made everyone happy. That for him outweighed the internal struggle.

He didn’t really listen to the reason everyone wanted to reschedule, but he picked up on after the fact that everyone is talking about the Snow Ball. He couldn’t help but recoil back into himself as his friends talked about their plans to go- who they’re asking, what suit they’re getting, what songs would play, and whatever. He couldn’t have cared less. Unless…

His eyes wandered to sneak a glance at you. He wondered if you had plans- maybe you're hoping someone asks you. Maybe, he’s lucky and you were hoping that someone would be him. He wondered if you had a date. Maybe you already had been asked. It’s not like you had been aware of the way Eddie’s felt about you- unrequited feelings that tugged on his focus constantly since he’s known you. You caught his eye and offered him a shy smile and he could crumble.

Eddie immediately averted his gaze, and focused his attention back on his friends. He ignored the way his face suddenly became so warm and he ignored the butterflies that were swarming around in his stomach. He couldn’t allow himself to dwell on these feelings- he knew that there’s no way you feel the same. Who could possibly like him?

He felt a pressure when the freshman looked at him, one of them having asked Eddie about his own plans. Eddie sees the way the kids look up to him, they idolize him. He knows they think he’s cool. He can’t let that go just yet, he loved it too much. He needed it. He wanted to have them hang on to this version of him for as long as they’d believe in it.

So, despite his usual distaste in school sanctioned functions, he did not want to allow the kids to think he couldn’t score a date. He could only blame society so much before they realized it’s actually his own fear of putting himself out there that cramped his dating life more than anything else. He then resolves that he needs a date to this dance. He tells himself that it’s for the freshman, to keep up the cool facade or whatever. But in actuality, he just wanted to ask you because he wants to ask you out. It’s his perfect window of opportunity.

“Oh, I hadn’t thought about it, honestly,” you said, when one of the freshmen asked you if you had plans. “I’d been so busy with the play, I haven’t had a chance.” Eddie watched as you glanced over to Steve’s table. “Steve and I usually would go to this kinda thing,” you said quickly, and Eddie could see your apprehension despite your best attempt to hide it. “We’ll probably go as friends again.”

He said nothing.

A few days later, you called Eddie and he could immediately tell you’re upset. You’re doing your best to hold it together but he can tell you’re almost at your breaking point.

“Hey,” you say, your voice straining as you try not to cry. “I know this is totally not your thing, but I’m kind of in a bind.”

“What can I do?” He asked, sitting up straight on his bed. He was getting ready to locate his shoes or his keys- thinking you’re in trouble somewhere. He’ddrop anything to come get you.

“I know you’d probably rather do literally anything else, but um, I have two tickets to the Snow Ball and I already bought a dress…”

“I thought you’d be going with Steve?” He asked. You sniffled.

“Um, yeah I kind of just assumed he’d take me. I didn’t realize that he asked out Nancy Wheeler,” you choked back tears. “I mean it’s not like that,” you lied, maybe not to Eddie but more to yourself, “we’re just friends. But I still thought He and I would be going together like as friends again- you know? But, uh, yeah- he is taking like a real date.”

“I know you’d hate it, and I will make it up to you. But, I already bought the tickets and I can’t get my money back. It’s like not a date or anything, just like a friend thing…”

“I’d be happy to take you,” he replied, sincerely. He can tell you were expecting him to fight you on it. When would you catch on that he’s willing to do anything for you?

“Eddie, thank you so much,” you sniffled, still trying your best to keep it cool. “I owe you one,” your voice cracks and you hang up quickly before he gets a chance to say anything.

Eddie didn’t really understand back then why you were even friends with Steve to begin with. Eddie thought Steve, frankly, was a total douchebag. However, once he actually got to know Steve- it was a different story. He couldn’t resent Steve. He loved him like a brother now. And once Eddie got to know the Steve you’ve always known, your feelings for him made sense. But at the same time, Eddie held his tongue for all the things Steve did or didn’t do for so long. Steve was good guy at his core, Eddie understood. But his actions didn’t reflect that in Eddie’s eyes. But it wasn’t his place to tell you that. It didn’t seem right. You’d known Steve so much longer than him.

Nancy and Jonathan invited you and Robin to go with them to watch Lucas’ basketball game. You were excited to get out of your little apartment and support Lucas. Jonathan was photographing it for The Hawkins Post. Jonathan paced up and down the court side to get photos, and you sat up in the bleachers with Nancy and Robin. You were never one to go to school things really, but it was Lucas’s senior year and it was a big game- of course you were going to be there.

“It feels weird, Steve not being here,” Nancy whispers to you and you nod in agreement.

“Yeah, everything just feels weird right now,” you agree. “You and Jonathan are okay?”

“We’re good. We’re doing good, um, still working through stuff but we’re going to just work through it.”

“That’s good.”

“Robin?” Nancy asks, and Robin turns her head to pay attention. “How’s things with Vicky?”

Robin’s face turns tomato red. “Fine,” she mumbles, happily. “I’m gonna hang out with her tomorrow.” You elbow her teasingly, making her blush redden.

“How’s it feeling? Being the best at all of this out of us?” You tease.

“I don’t know,” she’s so embarrassed, it’s so sweet. “We both just like each other- it’s not that complicated. She’s so great.”

The three of you turn your attention back to the game at the sound of the whistle. You clapped and cheered the loudest whenever Lucas had the ball. He tried to plead with the lot of you to tone it down, casting weary looks in your direction. You couldn’t help yourselves. You felt so proud of him.

You decide to take a walk to the concession stands and get some snacks for everyone. You order four sodas and two large popcorns- one for Jonathan and Nancy and one for you and Robin. You fish the cash out of the front pocket of your jeans, and hand it to the kid working the window. You thank him, and balance it all in your hands to navigate carefully back to the stands.

You see a familiar face coming down the hallway, sprinting. For a moment, you can’t help the smile that forms across the expanse of your face until you remember what’s been going on. Your face falls, and you feel so stupid for being excited to see him when it hits you again all at once.

You don’t think Steve knew you’d all be here, because he looks just as surprised to see you. He stops and his sneakers squeak across the polished gym floor. He looks at you with an expression of pure panic. He totally didn’t think you’d be here. And you’re surprised he came alone- but of course he did, he’s Steve. Of course, he’s going to show up to every game for Lucas. You shouldn’t expect any less. It still takes you back.

“Can I help with those?” he asked, gesturing for you to pass some stuff to him. You nod, and tilt so he can take some of the things from your grasp.

“Where are you sitting?” He asks, and you nod your head towards Robin and Nancy. His face deflates. “Ah, okay.” He walks over with you, and he passes the items in his hand off to Robin. He moves aside so you can walk back into your spot.

“Thanks, Steve,” you offer him a soft smile, appreciating the effort despite the circumstances.

“Yeah of course,” he mutters, backing away, lingering for a moment because the seat that’s usually there for him between you and Robin isn’t there. He quickly pulls himself out of his thoughts and just heads over to the next row of bleachers, finding a seat next to a couple of his old basketball teammates that are here for their little brothers.

Steve can’t even focus on the game, he keeps trying to steal glances of you from his peripheral vision. He wants to know what Robin said that made you laugh like that, and he wished he could have heard your laugh- but you’re too far away from him. He watches as your jaw drops at something Nancy tells you, and he watches how you cheer so happily for Lucas. He wants to know if this is bothering you the way it’s bothering him. You look like you’re keeping it together and he wants to know if that could truly be the case.

Even when you’re carrying so much hurt, you give off such a radiance that Steve and he’s sure everyone else is just drawn into. Your pretty smile and your bright eyes are all he can think about- he only knows when to cheer when he feels the people around him move. He smiles when you stand up and pose, pointing to Lucas- then Lucas matches it, giving it back to you. He watches as you both share that moment of just pure joy, and his heart aches. He doesn’t know if he could ever make you that happy.

When the game was over, you looked to see if you could find Steve but there was no sign of him. You all invited Lucas to go out for celebratory pizza for his big win, but he wanted to go with his teammates. The plan fizzled pretty much after that. Robin wanted to get home so she could call Vicky and Jonathan and Nancy wanted to head home so Jonathan could start developing his photos. When you and Robin are walking out, you see a familiar van.

“I’ll bum a ride from Nancy,” Robin assures you, pushing you in Eddie’s direction. She waves to Eddie from a distance and then jogs to catch up with Nancy and Jonathan.

“What are you doing here?” you ask with a smile. He pushes himself off of the hood of his van and walks over to you, his hands in the back pockets of his jeans.

“I thought you might be here,” he quips. “Plus, I had to poke my head in- Sinclair is some big shot apparently?” he jokes, “I had to check out for a few minutes.”

“He’s really great,” you agree.

“Was Steve here?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah I saw him. He didn’t really stay either- I mean he stayed for the game, but we didn’t talk really.” You shrug.

“Well,” he says, trying to optimistically change the subject, “Do you wanna get out of here? I could give you a ride home or we could get food or something- or even just drive around and not talk. I’m not picky.”

He looks so beautiful like this, you observe. The sky is pitch black but the lights in the parking lot illuminate him perfectly with a soft glow. His hair is wonderfully messy and his smile is making it hard for you to breathe. Has he always looked like this? You wonder, astonished as it hits you all at once. He’s gorgeous. Your eyes linger, taking in every little detail you’ve overlooked before. He waves his hand in front of your face to snap you out of your trance.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he tisks.

“Looking at you like what?”

“Like you’re trying to jump my bones,” he chuckles. Your face warms, and suddenly you realize how long you must have been staring.

“Ha, right,” you joke sarcastically, or at least, trying to joke sarcastically. You walk past him and get into the passenger side of the van and try your best to compose yourself in the few seconds it takes for him to follow suit.

“Okay, sweetheart,” he says, turning over the ignition, “where to?”

“Can we just drive around like we used to?” you ask- the circumstances of tonight making you feel so nostalgic.

“Of course we can,” he hums, passing you the case of his cassettes- a familiar and welcomed sight for your tired eyes.

You watch Eddie as he drives, and observe the way the muscles in his arms flex ever so subtly as he turns the wheel. You watch his ringed fingers tap across the top of the steering wheel and you can’t help it the way your mind wanders. You’re so wrapped up in the way his hair sways so effortlessly and the movement of his jaw as he sings, you don’t even notice that Steve was leaving the gym just in time to see you both drive away.

After a little while of aimless driving, and hitting up the drive thru, Eddie ends up parking at Lover’s Lake when neither of you are ready to go home just yet.

“Eddie?” You ask absentmindedly, finishing off the milkshake he got you. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” he replies, also finishing his, but with an obnoxiously loud suck of his straw- determined to get every last sip.

“Why do you like me?” you ask, cringing almost immediately. You think you sound like a middle schooler or something- you’re so embarrassed. His eyes widen for a brief second, contemplating his answer. He tosses the empty cup into the back.

“First off,” he criticizes teasingly, “I did not say I liked you- I’m in love with you. Get your facts straight, ma’am.”

“My apologies,” you giggle, holding your hands up in defeat.

“I mean- I love everything about you; always have,” he starts. “You’re sweet and kind. I think you’re beautiful. I think you’re incredible, and sometimes I can’t figure out why you wanted to ever be friends with me in the first place.”

“Eddie?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Would you kiss me?”

Eddie’s a goner when you’re looking at him with those doe eyes. More than anything he wants to lunge across and close the space between you. It’s everything he’s ever wanted. It takes every fiber of his being to hold himself back..

“I don’t know if I can kiss you without knowing if I could ever kiss you again,” He whispers, but it doesn’t stop him from leaning in towards you. His hand lifts to hold your cheek and suddenly he’s so close. Closer than the two of you have ever been. His lips are tantalizingly close to yours when his forehead touches yours. A huge bang on the side of the van scares you both away from each other.

“Give her time, my ass, Munson! Get the fuck out here! Get your fucking hands off my girl!”

PART FOUR

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