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radiosteve · 1 year ago

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Casual

Summary: When did being friends with benefits with Steve Harrington get so complicated? Probably when your "no strings attached" relationship suddenly had strings.

Note: Loosely based on the song Casual by Chappell Roan. I slowly wrote this over the past month or so which is why it took so long. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: 18+, No use of y/n, language, friends with benefits to lovers, smut, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), angst, jealousy.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x reader

Word count: 11.3k+

Knee deep in the passenger seat

The buzz of the evening air filled the car, prickling your skin with each passing second. Or maybe that was the A/C that Steve had on full blast, cooling the cramped car to an uncomfortable degree. Without a second thought, you reached forward, fingers finding the dial that would alleviate the shivers raking your body. But Steve’s hand shot out, swatting away your futile attempts to not freeze to death in the passenger seat.

“What the hell, Steve?” you shot him a glare, crossing your arms over your chest and unknowingly pushing up your breasts in the process, drawing Steve’s not-so-subtle gaze. In all honesty, Steve was cold too. Sure, it was summer in Hawkins and the sweltering heat and humidity bogged down the heavy air, but his car was a cool 66°F.

“I’m sweating over here, sweetheart,” Steve shrugged, placing his hand back on the steering wheel. He was lying of course, but he couldn’t tell you that he wanted the A/C on so he could continue to catch glimpses of your pebbled nipples poking against the thin fabric of your tank top. He especially couldn’t say that because Eddie and Robin were in the backseat, a fact he had entirely forgotten until their muffled conversation rose dramatically in volume.

“And then they found that old guy’s fucking bones,” Eddie practically shouted with excitement, and your brow furrowed. Robin echoed Eddie’s statement, sharing the same elation regarding their conversation topic, which only confused you more. You turned in your seat, curious to know what the hell you had missed between them during your battle with Steve and the air conditioner. But then the car jerked to the left entering Forest Hills trailer park, and you knew you’d never find out.

The car halted in front of Eddie’s trailer, causing your body to jerk forward at the sudden stop. You let out a groan in response and were met with Steve’s cruel cackle. Meanwhile, Eddie tumbled out of the backseat into his front lawn and Robin followed suit on the other side.

“Wait, Rob,” you called, quickly rolling your window down so she could actually hear you. “I thought we were dropping you off?”

“Change of plans. I promised Max that we’d go through her comic collection so I’m just gonna crash at her place tonight,” Robin pointed over her shoulder and you spotted the mess of fiery red hair watching from the window. You nodded and exchanged a quick goodbye as Robin strolled over to Max’s front door. You watched her retreating figure, but it was soon blocked by Eddie ripping the passenger door open and hastily grabbing your cheek before placing a sloppy kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“Dude,” you wiped your lips with the back of your hand, trying to rid yourself of any trace of Eddie’s saliva. Eddie’s eyes flickered over your shoulder to land on Steve. He watched the fire ignite in Steve’s eyes, the flames encasing his pupils at the stretch of Eddie’s smirk.

“C’mon, princess. You know you want me,” Eddie winked at you and you pushed him away from the car with a laugh. He stumbled back a few steps, regaining his balance as you pulled the car door shut.

“In your dreams, Munson,” you shot him a smile as Steve began driving off, leaving Eddie to watch as the car pulled away. He stood content, knowing he’d accomplished his mission to rile Steve up. You rolled up the window and turned to Steve, expecting his expression to reflect the amusement you felt as a result of Eddie’s antics.

But Steve, ever so unpredictable, had never been one to conform to your expectations before. His face appeared hardened, like it was set in stone as his white knuckles gripped the steering wheel tightly. He kept his gaze on the road as if he was incapable of looking elsewhere, particularly at you.

The silence grew heavy within the car, only elevating the tension that blossomed seemingly out of nowhere. Steve was driving too fast and you wanted to tell him to slow down but he spoke before you could.

“You like it when Munson kisses you?” his tone was harsh and cold like you were his worst enemy rather than his friend of many years. But you’d known Steve long enough to understand where this was coming from. He was jealous, though he’d never ever admit it, not to himself and most certainly not to you. Despite his insistence to keep things casual between you and him, he was quite good at blurring the line.

“Steve, I’d hardly call that a kiss,” you scoffed, already knowing that this was an argument in the making. Steve was silent, knots forming in his tensed shoulders as he continued driving. “And what does it matter? You made out with Stacy Townsend last week. It's not like we're dating, Steve,” you huffed and the car quickly turned off the main road into a shaded grove, away from any prying eyes.

Steve practically threw the car in park and unbuckled his seatbelt so quickly you could’ve gotten whiplash. He exited the car, rounding the back and appearing at your door before you could even turn in your seat to track his motion. Steve tore the door open, leaning down and reaching between your legs. Your breath stopped at the feeling of his arm brushing against your thighs, but you quickly realized he was simply adjusting the seat to push it all the way back.

“What are you-” you began but quickly stopped as Steve occupied the space in front of you. His knees rested on the carpeted floor of his car as his back brushed against the glove box. There was enough room for him to comfortably rest between your open legs as he swung the door shut, trapping you in the confines of his presence.

“Is he a good kisser?” Steve asked, the traces of jealousy still ever so present in his tone, but there was something else too. Something deeper and more lustful that almost helped to outweigh the annoyance you felt in the moments prior. You knew to play along, follow Steve’s prompts, and adapt to the scenario.

“He’s pretty good, Stevie. Might want to kiss him again,” you let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding and you watched Steve’s gaze trace over you. He once again found the outline of your peaked nipples, teasing him in the car’s cool atmosphere. Steve couldn’t help himself, letting his fingers trail up your chest, tracing over your nipples once he finally reached them.

“Is he better than me?” Steve asked, relishing in the soft sign that escaped you at the brush of his fingers over your clothed skin. He knew your body like the back of his hand at this point, giving him some control over you.

“He might be,” you refused to give in, knowing Steve would give you what you want regardless. But Steve understood you in the same way that you did him, and he expected that you’d play hard to get, which only made it more fun for him. One of his hands dropped, reaching for the hem of your tank top and pulling it up above your breasts, leaving them on display for him.

Steve resumed his teasing to your left nipple, gently circling it with his thumb. He leaned in slowly, keeping his eyes locked with yours as his lips met your breast, placing slow open-mouthed kisses on your soft flesh. After leaving a few marks he brought his mouth to your nipple, gently pecking it with his soft lips before placing a bruising kiss on it in a way that made you gasp in pleasure.

“Fuck,” you moaned as Steve’s teeth grazed your sensitive skin. His eyes never left yours, drinking in the sight of you slowly unraveling at the feel of his lips. Steve trailed his kisses lower, expanding over your torso and down to the waistband of your skirt.

His hands caressed your thighs, parting them even wider than before while he hiked your skirt up your hips. The lace of your panties now sat exposed to Steve as his hungry eyes roamed over the fabric.

“Maybe I shouldn’t,” Steve spoke with a smirk, his breath fanning over your lap, warming your cunt in a way that made you squirm. “Just leave that for Munson since he’s such a better kisser,” confidence and cockiness dripped from Steve’s voice like honey. He moved to pull your skirt back down, anticipating your pleas to continue. Luckily for him, you conceded.

“No, Steve. Please,” you begged, hand shooting out to stop him. And that was all he needed before he was pulling your panties from your legs and tossing them somewhere in the backseat. You were sure you’d never see them again. Steve placed a gentle kiss on your clit before licking your entrance to make you squirm. As if it were pure instinct, your hand shot out, gripping the soft locks of Steve’s hair.

That motivated him to really dive in, being more purposeful in the swipe of his tongue through your folds. Steve relished in the sound of your moans, the way your hips slid against the seat to meet his mouth, and how you threw your head back when his nose nudged your clit. Quite frankly, Steve had never been a big fan of eating girls out until he started hooking up with you. There was something about the way you reacted to the flick of his tongue that ended in him cumming in his pants on more than one occasion.

“So close, Stevie,” the breathy tone of your voice encouraged Steve further as he abandoned your entrance. His lips attached firmly to your clit, letting his teeth graze your sensitive bud as he sucked on it. Your chest was heaving at that point, tits jiggling with each heaving breath, and the sight had Steve palming himself through his jean shorts. And suddenly it was all too much for you as Steve’s tongue flicked wildly over your clit.

Your thighs shook around Steve’s head while your fingers dug deep into his scalp and you came undone. Steve lapped at your entrance, licking up every last bit of your slick before finally pulling back with a labored breath. He leaned up on his knees, admiring how fucked out you looked. It was his favorite way to see you. Steve placed a fervent kiss on your lips, encapsulating all of the passion that flowed through you both at that moment.

“So who’s the better kisser now?” Steve whispered against your lips as a smirk tugged the corners of his mouth. You scoffed, pushing him gently away from you and pulling your skirt back down. It was impossible to keep the smile from your lips though, especially when Steve got up from the footwell of the car and you saw the wet spot on the crotch of his shorts.

He got back in the driver’s seat and brought the car back to life. This time you welcomed the harsh blast of the A/C given the sticky heat between your legs and the warm air that now filled the fogged-up car. Steve drove you home, stopping in front of your driveway to let you out. He placed a quick peck on your lips before letting you out, leaving you to walk back to your front door. You stopped just before the entrance, turning to get one last look at the maroon BMW before disappearing into your house. The taste of yourself and Steve’s arrogance still lingered on the tip of your tongue as you watched him drive off into the dark summer night.

You said “Baby, no attachment”

“Jesus, this place is packed,” Eddie spoke beside you, his grip tight on his black lunch box. He’d dragged you to some house party so he could have company while he dealt. But you’d tagged along with Eddie to one too many parties to know that he’d soon disappear behind a wall of letterman jackets that he’d overcharged for weed simply because he could. You only agreed to go because of the promise of free booze.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” you shouted over the blaring music that ricocheted off the walls in the crowded living room. Eddie nodded, already being pulled away by someone looking to buy from him. You struggled your way through the sea of people to the closed-off kitchen, settling on whatever liquor you deemed the strongest. It was then that you saw him. Steve’s perfectly styled hair framed his face as he leaned down to whisper something into the ear of some very tipsy blonde across the room.

“Figures,” you scoffed under your breath, tilting your cup to your lips and ingesting its bitter contents. Steve hadn’t told you he was coming to the party, likely because he was determined to find a one-night stand or come crawling to you if he struck out. It wouldn’t be the first time.

You refilled your now empty cup before departing the kitchen and shimming your way onto the makeshift dance floor in the living room. A slight buzz already consumed you, diminishing any worried thoughts, particularly about a certain brown-haired boy.

Someone in a letterman jacket approached you, matching your movements with a shy smile. His name was Marcus, one of the nicer basketball players from your graduating class. Letting the alcohol control you, you threw your arms over his shoulders, careful not to spill your drink. You pulled him close, pressing yourself flush against him and moving to the beat of the music. Marcus was cute, flushed red as his hands snaked around to land on your hips.

As you got lost in the ocean blue of Marcus’s eyes, you remained oblivious to the sudden drawl of Steve’s attention as he stumbled into the room. Steve’s stare lingered over your figure, the press of your breasts against Marcus’s chest, the trail of his fingers as they inched towards the hem of your skirt. Steve couldn't tear his eyes away from you, brushing off whatever girl he’d been trying to bed and stalking in your direction.

Marcus’s lips hovered over yours, tempting you with each passing breath. Finally, sick of the teasing, you used your free hand to pull his neck down, effectively closing the gap. He tasted like bubblegum and Coca-Cola, and it became clear to you then that he hadn’t been drinking. You weren’t some drunken conquest to him, just a girl he wanted to dance with.

You pulled back at the revelation, feeling a little guilty for assuming all the boy in front of you wanted was a drunken hookup. But you didn’t have much time to think about it because Steve came barreling over from across the room.

“Marcus,” he spoke simply, eyeing the boy up and down. They had been teammates at one point, but now in Steve’s mind, they were mortal enemies. He wasn’t sure why he felt so jealous considering he’s the one who insisted on being friends with benefits and nothing more. But there was no time to dwell on that.

“Hi, Steve. How have you been?” Marcus asked genuinely, seemingly unaware of the growing tension between the three of you. You stood like a deer in headlights, watching and waiting for the tornado to touch down, the hurricane to make landfall, Steve to do something stupid.

“I’m doing great. Mind if I borrow her?” Steve brushed off Marcus’s attempts at friendly conversation, gesturing to you and grabbing ahold of your arm to drag you away before Marcus could even answer. It wasn’t exactly the stupid gesture you thought it would be, more like fists thrown and punches landed, but it still annoyed you just as much.

“What the hell are you doing?” you finally wiggled out of Steve’s grasp as he took you out the front door. You set down the cup that had previously occupied your hand before whipping around angrily to meet Steve’s gaze.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Steve crossed his arms over his chest, staring you down as if he were a parent scolding his disobedient child.

“It’s a party, Steve. I’m partying,” you rolled your eyes, your voice deadpan as the heat of your rage mixed with the hot summer air. Steve scoffed, moving across the front porch to stand in front of you.

“You know what I mean, sweetheart. What were you doing with Marcus?” Steve’s breath fanned your face, doing nothing to help cool you in your overheated state.

“Whatever I want. You and I aren’t dating, remember?” you gestured between the two of you. Suddenly you felt like you’d been backed into a corner. Steve’s body inched closer to yours, encompassing you against the house’s siding, trapping you with nowhere to go. Partygoers came and went as they pleased, not sparing a passing glance your way as Steve cornered you. For a moment you let yourself get pulled into his allure, succumbing to his overwhelmingly dominant charm.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To have me all to yourself? Then you wouldn’t have to hook up with other guys to try and make me jealous,” Steve’s lips ghosted over yours in the way that always left you whining for more. But something stopped you.

“Wait,” you put your hands on his chest, pushing him back to give you space. “You think I kissed Marcus to make you jealous?” you asked a very confused Steve as you deliberately ignored the fact that he had admitted to being jealous. Steve’s brow furrowed as he tried to figure out what he said wrong.

“Yeah, why else would you have kissed him?” Steve countered, pulling back from you naturally, allowing more space to blossom between you.

“You’re unbelievable,” you stated, anger boiling up beneath the surface and scorching your skin. “Not everything is about you, dickhead,” you pushed past him, heading back towards the front door, desperately in need of another drink after this. But Steve’s hand shot out, grabbing your arm for a second time that evening. His grip was softer this time, free of the possessive fury that drove him earlier.

“That was shitty. I’m sorry,” he rushed out, dropping the overconfident demeanor. In the complicated web of your relationship, it was often difficult to remember what you truly were: friends. And now, before you, stood a friend who genuinely felt bad for making everything about him.

“That was really shitty,” you spoke fiercely, still unmoved with Steve’s grip on your arm. “Apology accepted,” you caved, and Steve dropped his hand, ignoring the sudden cold that filled his palm in the absence of his skin on yours.

“Can we just forget about this and go back inside?” Steve asked and you responded with a nod, already halfway to the door. The party was even more crowded than before, making it far more difficult to find Marcus. “Shit,” Steve muttered beside you, pulling your gaze in the same direction as his.

Across the living room on the makeshift dance floor was the blonde girl Steve had been chatting up earlier. A wicked grin spread across your lips as you watched her sloppily suck face with some dude who was sure to be holding back her hair later while she spilled her guts into a toilet. You stifled a laugh, pulling Steve’s attention away from the blonde and back to you.

“See what happens when you meddle in my love life,” you patted him on the shoulder, his frown only making it harder to contain your laughter.

“Yeah, well I don’t see Marcus anywhere. Maybe he’s got some girl holed up in a room somewhere,” he pointed over his shoulder to the hallway of locked bedroom doors. He wanted to make you feel how he felt at that moment like he was the last kid picked for the kickball team. Undesired. Not that it could possibly be true though, because there was always one person who would always want you, even though he’d never admit it.

“Whatever, I’m getting another drink,” you brushed him off, already making your way through the packed room to burst through the kitchen door. You entered the kitchen, unexpectedly bumping into a solid chest clad in orange, white, and green. Marcus.

“Hey, where’d you and Harrington run off to earlier?” he asked, fingers brushing your arms as he steadied you.

“Sorry about that. Steve was having some girl trouble and needed advice,” you lied, though somehow not entirely. Marcus gave you a soft smile with a nod of understanding. “Do you maybe want to get out of here?” you asked, hoping you didn’t scare off the shy, sweet boy before you.

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” he smiled and you couldn’t help but beam back up at him. You led him back through the throngs of people, passed Eddie who gave you a thumbs up at the sight of Marcus’s hand wrapped around yours, and out the front door.

On the porch steps sat a very deflated Steve, smoking what you were sure wasn’t a cigarette. You told Marcus you’d meet him by his car before sitting down next to Steve.

“Rough night?” you asked as if it was your first time seeing him that evening. He played along with your game though, something he always did.

“You could say that. Think a girl is gonna go home with you and then she’s mackin’ on some other dude,” he blew smoke from his lips, the skunky scent filling the air around you. “Still got you though. What do you say? I can take you back to mine and rock your world, sweetheart,” he wagged his eyebrows at you, his goofy nature peeking through.

It always surprised you how drastically different he could be with you. One minute he’d have you pinned against a wall with his tongue down your throat and the next he’d crack a joke and flub the punchline. The duality of man it seems, or maybe just Steve.

“Sorry, Stevie. I’ve already got a ride,” you pointed towards Marcus who stood leaning up against his car, awaiting your arrival back to his open arms. “See you tomorrow?” you stood, patting him on the knee, and began your trek across the lawn. Steve mumbled out a response, watching as you approached Marcus.

Upon your arrival, Marcus took you in his arms, placed a soft kiss on your lips, and opened the passenger door for you. Steve watched as you waved to him through the car window, taking another drag from the joint between his fingertips. He wasn’t sure when he started feeling so empty, so complicated when he thought he was devoid of love. But he knew as the taillights disappeared into the dark summer night, that something sparked within him. The lack of strings involved in no strings attached had suddenly appeared and become tangled together.

Dream of us in a year

The cardboard box weighed heavy in your hands as you exited the elevator. Sneakers squeaked against the linoleum floors as you traveled down the hall, stopping in front of a door labeled 217. Your hands fumbled with the handle, struggling to keep the box from falling as you tried to open the door.

It swung open, revealing a floppy-haired Steve with his sleeves rolled up behind it. He was a year older now, stubble shadowing his upper lip while shallow wrinkles had already started to line his forehead. He grabbed the box from your hands and moved inside, setting it down in the apartment’s living room. You took a moment to look around, taking in the freshly painted walls and soft carpeted floors.

“Can you believe we’ve got this whole place to ourselves?” Steve came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, breathing in the scent of your perfume. Lavender and vanilla.

“You say that as if Eddie, Robin, and the kids won’t constantly be in and out of here,” you spoke, spinning around to face Steve. Steve shrugged, a smirk cresting his lips.

“Not if we don’t give them a key,” Steve asserted, evoking a laugh from you, throwing your head back as the sound spilled from your lips. As if they’d let you and Steve have your own apartment without giving them easy access to it too. Steve took advantage of your thrown-back head and placed his lips on your neck, leaving a trail of kisses up the column of your throat.

“Steve,” you groaned, stuck between wanting him to continue and needing to keep moving your belongings into your new apartment. But Steve continued his attack on your neck, licking over the fresh bruises he painted across your skin.

“C’mon, baby. We’ll have to christen this place at some point. Why not now?” Steve spoke against your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. He pushed you back, your body softly colliding with the end of the kitchen counter.

“We’ve still got boxes to bring up,” you answered in heavy, panting breaths. Steve’s hand came up to cup your cheek, his lips traveling to yours in a bruising heat. He was weakening your resolve by the second.

“You really want to stop, then we’ll stop,” Steve stated, pulling back from your lips. He was calling your bluff, you knew that. But your lips missed his and you suddenly felt so cold without his body pressed to yours. So you caved.

“Fuck it, we’ll get ‘em later,” you pulled Steve back in, crashing your lips back together. Steve’s hand drifted from its place on your cheek, moving down your body. He stopped at your breast, giving it a squeeze, before moving down to your shorts.

In one fell swoop, Steve pulled your shorts and panties down your legs and replaced the cloth of your underwear with his fingertips. He brushed against your wet folds, coating his fingers in your juices. A whimper slipped from within you, Steve’s teasing only arousing you more.

He finally slipped a finger in and curled it. Your knees buckled, hands gripping the cool granite countertop to hold you steady.

“Shit, Steve. Feels so good,” he continued his motion, adding another finger. You could feel the tension building within you like a rubber band threatening to snap. You just got to the edge when…

You startled awake, abruptly sitting up and slamming the side of your head into something.

“Ah fuck, that hurt,” you said, rubbing the aching spot and leaning back into the couch.

“You’re telling me,” Steve said from beside you, also touching his head in pain. You’d fallen asleep on his shoulder and slammed your head into his when you snapped awake.

“Sorry, had a weird dream,” you apologized before directing your attention back to the movie you’d been watching before you fell asleep.

“Yeah? What was it about,” Steve prodded, trying to pull your focus back to him. He was clearly just as bored with whatever movie was playing as you had been.

“I, uh, don’t really remember,” you lied poorly, keeping your eyes off of Steve. It felt weird to face him after your dream. It made you feel guilty like your subconscious wanted your relationship with Steve to be more than what it was.

“Liar,” Steve concluded after studying your avoidant gaze. He inched closer, his body turned towards you in his spot on the couch. “You had a sex dream,” he accused and your head snapped in his direction. Your wide-eyed gaze only confirmed what Steve had already guessed. “Holy shit,” he exclaimed with a smile on his face.

“Nope. No. I didn’t have a sex dream,” you denied but Steve was already ignoring you, lost in a slew of his own thoughts.

“You had a sex dream while sleeping on my shoulder. Should I be flattered or offended? Well, I’d be flattered if it was about me. Was it about me?” Steve rambled, ignoring your protests. Once again, your avoidant eyes told Steve everything he needed to know.

“So what? We’ve had actual sex. What’s it matter if I dreamed about it?” you spoke defensively once you realized there was no point in hiding the truth. In the heat of the moment, you hadn’t realized that your body now faced Steve.

“Nothing wrong with it, babe. Just wish you’d told me sooner. We could already be working on making your dream a reality,” he wiggled his eyebrows at you, earning a chuckle in response. Steve leaned in, his body hovering over yours, lips just a breath away from touching.

“No thanks, Stevie,” you pushed him back playfully, knowing he’d be back on you in a second. Just as you expected he moved back in, closing any distance between you.

“Don’t dream it, be it,” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“Don't you dare quote Rocky Horror at me right now,” you scolded Steve with a smile, one that he reflected back at you.

“Let me kiss you then,” he spoke softly, tenderly, like it was his biggest desire. You melted, feeling some form of intimacy that rarely reared its head during your hookups with Steve. The walls between you fell down, allowing Steve’s lips to meet yours.

It was soft, gentler than he’d ever kissed you before. As if a switch had been flipped within you both, the lust and desire that had been building for months finally reached its peak and spilled out from each of your lips.

Steve’s knee came up between your thighs, adding the friction you desperately needed after the combination of your dream and his kiss. You pulled apart for a second so you could take off your top and bra, your eyes refusing to leave Steve’s as you did.

You laid flat on your back, extending an open invitation for Steve to swoop in. His gaze on you was hungry and lustful, but it was also something else, something different than it ever had been before. If you didn’t know any better you'd think the look in his eyes was love.

Steve followed suit, removing his own shirt and shimming out of his pants and boxers. He pulled your shorts and panties from your legs, staring open-mouthed at your exposed core. Your dream already had your folds coated in desire, begging to be lapped up by Steve’s skilled tongue. He wanted to taste you, to devour you in the way you both loved, but your hand stopped him.

“Stevie, need you now,” you whined breathily, Steve’s eyes catching yours once again. He nodded, moving up to hover over your body that lay flat against the couch. Your slick made it easy for him to slip in, earning whimpers from both of you as your walls sucked him in.

Steve watched your face for a moment, simply because he could, because he wanted to. He admired the scrunch of your brow, the slight gape of your lips, and the pleading look in your eye. It only enticed him more, finally encouraging him to move.

With a sharp breath, Steve pulled out a bit before pushing back in. It was slow and deep, a stark contrast to the usual fast and rough nature of your hookups with Steve. He was hitting places deep within you, pulling silent moans from your lips.

Your hands searched for something to hold, to guide you through the pleasure Steve’s thrusts were forging. One hand landed on his back, gripping tightly to his skin. The other fell flat against the couch, an open palm facing up by your shoulder.

Steve, who had been so consumed with studying the way your face screwed up as he dragged his cock in and out of you, noticed the fall of your hand. He grabbed it quickly, interlocking his fingers with yours. Steve thrust harder then, though he maintained his steady pace. His eyes locked with yours once more, labored breaths dancing in the small space between his lips and yours.

Steve ground down hard, your hips matching his rhythm as you both neared your highs. You suddenly felt shy. The press of Steve’s body to yours combined with the intensity of your locked eyes, making you glance elsewhere.

“Baby,” Steve’s breathy voice rang out, his free hand turning your face and bringing your gaze back to him. “Want you to look at me when you cum. Need to see it. Please, baby,” he begged, the rhythm of his thrusts faltering slightly, telling you that he was close.

You just nodded, leaning up a bit to kiss him. Steve savored the feel of your lips on his before you pulled back, meeting his gaze as requested. The pressure in the pit of your stomach became too much. Your hand squeezed Steve’s tightly as your face contorted in pleasure and your walls fluttered around him.

Steve watched as you hit your high, continuing his thrusts as your thighs shook and your moans of his name echoed throughout the room. He couldn’t hold on any longer, reaching his own peak with a low groan of your name. His eyes never left yours as he pumped his hot ropes of cum into you and watched you unwind.

After you’d both calmed down, breaths evening out, and chests no longer heaving, Steve gently pulled out. He kept his body on yours, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. Then he got up, retrieving a damp washcloth to clean you both up.

The both of you redressed and resumed your previous spots on the couch, pretending to pay attention to the movie again. You tried to ignore the shift in the air, the warmth that filled your chest at the thought of what just happened.

Steve did the same, his wandering eyes glazed over as he got lost in thought about the whole ordeal. Something occurred to him then, something too important to ignore. His past few hookups hadn’t made him feel anywhere close to how good he just felt with you, how good he always felt with you.

The other girls were always too loud or too demanding or too submissive, but were they really? Steve would get hung up on some flaw while with them, no matter how big or small, and effectively throw off the whole thing for himself.

But as he sat there with the smell of sex still lingering in the air and some shitty movie playing on the screen in front of him, Steve realized that the other girls’ biggest flaw was always just that they weren’t you. And maybe Steve didn’t want no strings attached anymore. Maybe he just wanted you. And he had no clue how to tell you.

I’m still hanging around

Family Video hadn’t seen a customer for the past hour and forty-five minutes. The front counter had been wiped clean at least six times and all the tapes were put back into the system and reshelved, leaving Robin and Steve with absolutely nothing to do.

They’d resorted to taking turns trying to catch candy in their mouths when the bell sounded from above the front door. You strolled in with a furrowed brow as you watched Robin pick a stray skittle from her hair.

“Congrats on the big promotion, Steven,” you called out, approaching the counter with a wide smile. Steve’s new name tag with the words “Shift Lead” printed beneath his name shined in the store's harsh overhead lighting. Before Steve could thank you or comment on the use of his full name, Robin spoke up, effectively interrupting him.

“Thank god, someone to talk to other than this bozo,” Robin gestured to Steve who shot her a frown. “So tell me, how’d your date go last night?” she asked, leaning forward on her elbows and abandoning the half-empty pack of Skittles that sat on the counter.

Steve rolled his eyes at the mention of you going on another date with another guy, likely with some douchebag who didn’t deserve you. He took that as his cue to leave, wandering around the store to make himself look busy and avoid overhearing any talk of how soft this new guy’s lips were. Steve could still feel the pang of jealousy that lived in the pit of his stomach ever since you said that about some guy you went out with last week.

Despite his recent revelation, Steve had made no move to make his feelings known to you. He was caught in limbo between being seconds from spilling his guts to you at any given moment and refraining out of the fear of ruining your friendship. The more he heard of you going out with other guys, the more he doubted whether his feelings would be reciprocated.

“That bad?” Robin practically shouted in response to what you told her about your date, dragging Steve from his thoughts and drawing him into your conversation. He lingered near the movie shelves, just close enough to hear as you recounted the way your date more or less slobbered into your mouth when you made out.

“I had to chug half a bottle of mouthwash to feel like I wasn’t drowning in his saliva anymore,” you sighed, resting your chin in your hand as you leaned against the counter.

“That sucks, man,” Robin said, patting your shoulder comfortingly. The bell above the door rang out and Robin peered over your shoulder to catch a look at the customer. Robin glanced at Steve, hoping he’d help whoever just walked in, but he simply pointed over his shoulder, indicating for her to get to work. “Shit, duty calls,” she spoke quickly, rushing from behind the counter to greet the new customer.

“So,” Steve appeared seemingly out of nowhere, sliding behind the counter to stand where Robin previously was. “I told my parents about my promotion and they want to take me out to a nice dinner,” Steve’s gaze was drawn to the glass counter in front of him, suddenly unable to look at you.

“That sounds nice. I’m glad they’re finally recognizing your achievements,” you beamed at him, eyes scanning over his messy hair. He’d clearly been running his hands through it, nervously tugging the perfectly styled strands out of place.

“Yeah,” he started, letting out a huff of breath as he spoke. “They want you to come too,” he finally met your confused gaze. Your brows lifted and your mouth fell agape as you processed Steve’s words.

“Me? What? Why?” was all you could get out, words stuttered as your head filled with questions.

“Well, remember that time they came home early and nearly caught us in the kitchen so we played it off like we were about to make breakfast?” Steve asked, watching as your cheeks heat in embarrassment from the memory.

“The French toast incident. Yeah, I remember,” you nodded, curious about its connection to Steve’s upcoming celebratory dinner.

“Ever since then, they’ve been convinced that we’re dating. No matter how many times I’ve told them we’re not, they still think we’re together. They call you my girlfriend and everything,” Steve informed you, and it was like a light bulb went off in your head.

“The very few interactions I’ve had with them make a lot more sense now,” you stated, recalling all the times Steve’s parents asked you very girlfriend-esque questions. “Anyways, I’ll be there. Anything to support my little Stevie,” you pinched his cheek and Steve couldn’t help but laugh.

Robin rounded the front counter, barreling Steve aside to ring up the customer she’d been dealing with. You took that as your indication to leave. You spun on your heels, heading back to the front door when Steve called out behind you.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven,” Steve spoke and you just kept walking, finally stopping as you reached the door.

“See you then, Stevie,” you smiled at him, pushing open the door and walking out into the summer sun.

Steve wasn’t sure why his palms were so sweaty all of a sudden. Maybe he could blame it on the rundown air conditioner that Keith refused to replace. But he knew deep down that it was you. It was always you. His chest filled with butterflies at the thought of taking you out on a real date, despite the annoying addition of his parents. He’d treat you better than any of the other guys had before. He’d make you want to be his in the same way that he wanted to be yours, that he was sure of.

I know what you tell your friends

Steve picked you up right when he said he would, watching as you descended your driveway in a sundress. He couldn’t help the silent gasp that fell from his lips, so taken aback by your beauty. The passenger door swung open and you slid into the seat, meeting Steve’s admiring gaze with a smile.

“Ready, boyfriend?” you teased, leaning into the role that Steve’s parents expected you to play. Steve could’ve sworn that his heart stopped as the word fell from your lips. He hadn’t known until then how much he wanted to hear you call him that.

“You bet, girlfriend,” he snapped himself out of his stupor and finally responded, driving off in the direction of the restaurant.

Butterflies bloomed in your stomach, their delicate wings swarming deep within you. Things had been different with Steve recently but you weren’t sure why. His longing stares and flushed cheeks raised feelings from deep within that you were unable to identify, pushing them aside for the sake of your friendship.

The restaurant came into view and you noticed the nervous tap of Steve’s fingers on the steering wheel. When the car came to a stop you took hold of his hand, wrapping his palm with yours and easing the worries that plagued him.

“I’ll be with you the whole time,” you spoke softly, comfortingly. Steve’s eyes softened, his head nodding as his nerves melted away at the tingle of his hand enveloped in yours.

The restaurant was packed when you entered, your hand still interlocked with Steve’s. It didn’t take long to find Steve’s parents though, all you had to do was follow the sound of a woman complaining that her ice water had too much ice.

“Hi Mom, Dad,” Steve greeted his parents, pulling their attention to the two of you standing on the opposite side of the table. Steve’s parents were not the touchy kind, opting for a simple nod of their head in greeting rather than a handshake or hug.

“It’s nice to see you again, dear,” Mrs. Harrington addressed you, a plastic smile upturning the corners of her lips. The conversation continued, Steve’s parents pestering you both with questions.

“Steve tells me that you’re in school?” Mr. Harrington questioned, his gaze peering at you through the thick lenses of his glasses. You were taken aback by his question, not expecting him to know much about you. Steve had talked about you to his parents? He’d told them about you and your personal life?

“Yes, I am. I’m enrolled at the community college for now but I plan to transfer to a state school once I get my associate's degree,” you did your best to remain calm under the intense gaze of Steve’s parents, though the foundations of your cool facade were beginning to crack. Steve noticed the panic that creased your brow, taking it upon himself to clutch your hand in his under the table. Relief flooded you instantly, calmed by the warm caress of Steve’s skin on yours.

“That’s a good plan,” Mr. Harrington spoke again, turning his gaze from you to his son. “Seems much better than working at a video store with no thought of the future,” his face remained straight as he insulted Steve as if it were second nature by now.

Steve’s admiring smile, the one that stretched his lips at his father’s approval of your current path, faltered at the harsh words directed his way. Your hand squeezed Steve’s, reminding him that you were still there, that the insensitive words of the man before him didn’t matter.

“Dad,” Steve started but was quickly silenced by the raise of his father’s hand. It was like watching a dog following its owner’s command to sit. Steve was well trained by now, knowing when to be quiet, but you weren’t.

“With all due respect Mr. Harrington, Steve has worked his ass off at Family Video,” you defended, ignoring the gasp that came from Mrs. Harrington at your use of profanity. “Steve earned his promotion through hard work and dedication, two principles that I thought a businessman like yourself would greatly value,” you continued, your hand still clasped against Steve’s as your rage boiled over.

“Well, yes but-” Mr. Harrington began but you interrupted him before he could continue.

“Maybe it’s not the most glamorous job in the world, but Steve is learning valuable skills that can easily translate to other jobs later on,” you stated while Steve’s parents sat dumbfounded across from you, not used to being talked back to. “It's a shame you can’t see how wonderful and compassionate your son is. You should be proud of the man he’s becoming. I know I am,” your eyes roamed the dropped jaws of Steve’s parents and held back a smile at their shocked expressions.

You turned to Steve then, his gaze securely fastened on you. A smirk danced on his lips as he admired the crease in your forehead and the angry pinch of your brows. He watched as your expression unraveled, softening as your eyes landed on him.

Steve was speechless, stunned by your fierce loyalty on his behalf. He wanted to kiss you so badly, crush his lips to yours in a way that left a bruise by the time you pulled away for air. But he held himself back, not wanting to make you uncomfortable with such a public display of affection.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to freshen up in the restroom,” you gently pulled your hand from Steve’s, pushing your chair back and knocking some silverware off the table in the process. Steve watched as you walked away, encapsulated by the sway of your hips and the skin exposed by the movement of your dress with each step.

“I’ll go get some clean silverware,” Steve leaned down, picking up the utensils that littered the ground. He then quickly followed in your direction, leaving his still-shocked parents alone at the table. He approached the bathroom, a single-user restroom, and knocked on the door.

“Occupied,” you called out through the door, barely heard over the conversations and soft music that filled the restaurant.

“It’s me,” Steve said into the door, hoping not to attract too much attention from the tables nearby. The lock turned quickly, allowing Steve to push the door open and step into the small bathroom with you.

He clicked the lock back into place before turning to face you. His eyes read yours, receiving their open invitation, so he grasped your face, pulling it to meet his. Steve kissed you in the way he desired to only minutes before, with a rough clash of teeth and tongues that left you breathless.

“That was so fucking hot,” he spoke into your lips, one hand caressing your cheek as the other trailed down to your exposed legs, roaming the expanse of your bare thighs.

“Steve,” you tried to break free from his kiss, but his lips followed yours. “Your parents are still at the table,” you reminded him, knowing that he intended to do far more than just kiss you.

“We’ll just have to be quick then,” his lips caressed yours again, his hand moving inwards, meeting the seam of your panties. You were conflicted, worry washing over you at the possibility of being caught. But Steve’s touch momentarily quelled the burning heat that bloomed between your legs.

His fingers slipped beneath your panties, tracing the outline of your folds, swiping at the dampness that began to form. He swiftly pulled your panties down, helping you step out of them before shoving them into his back pocket. Steve leaned you over the sink, unzipping his pants and slipping his hardened cock from the confines of the material.

You watched him through the mirror in front of you, his hands stroking his cock before lining it up with your entrance. He eased in, slipping in inch by inch before bottoming out. A moan slipped past his lips as he quickly pulled out and thrust back in, giving you little time to adjust.

His thrusts were harsh and rough, knocking you forward with each motion. Your elbows that propped you up slid against the sink’s smooth countertop, bringing you closer and closer to the mirror with each movement. But Steve didn’t let up, forcefully pounding his cock into your core as he whimpered above you.

“Fuck, babe,” he groaned, his hands holding your hips in place. “It’s like your pussy was made for me. Squeezing me so good,” he didn’t let up, fucking you desperately, like he’d never get to do it again.

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, suppressing your moans, not wanting to be heard by the rest of the restaurant.

“So close, baby,” Steve leaned down, pressing kisses to your bare shoulders while maintaining his fierce pace. Your high was building along with Steve’s as he brushed a spot deep within you.

“Oh fuck, I’m cumming,” Steve spoke suddenly, catching you off guard as he spilled into you. Steve’s thrusts faltered as he pumped his cum deep within your folds. “All mine. Want you to be all mine,” he whispered into your skin, slumping against your folded body. It took a moment before he stood up straight again, regaining his composure and tucking his cock back into his pants.

You stood up with him, wide eyes watching him from the mirror. He fixed his disheveled hair, not noticing the shocked expression that you wore. You hadn’t cum, hadn’t had enough time for your orgasm to fully build before Steve spilled his seed into you. You also couldn’t ignore the words he muttered against you. Words that spoke of a relationship, something more. The same words that Steve seemed to be completely oblivious to having said.

“You okay?” Steve asked, finally noticing your worried look. You nodded, observing the boy who seemed to have unknowingly confessed his desires to you. “I’ll leave you to freshen up. I gotta go get more silverware,” he pulled the dirty silverware from his pocket that didn’t have your panties before opening the door and leaving you pantyless, alone in the bathroom with frazzled thoughts and his cum leaking down your thigh.

“What the fuck?” you mumbled to yourself, locking the door once more and cleaning yourself up. Did Steve want to be with you? Did he want to have you in the way you secretly hoped?

Your thoughts still raced as you exited the restroom, weaving through tables to get back to where you previously sat. But something caught your attention, or more like someone. Steve stood with a waiter, some guy you recognized from high school but couldn’t quite name off the top of your head.

“Are you two dating? Never thought I’d see the day when King Steve finally got tied down,” the unnamed waiter said, earning a grin from Steve. You were curious to know his answer, to hear what he said about you when you weren’t around.

“Nah, man. She’s just some girl that lets me fuck her on my couch,” Steve chuckled, running a hand through his hair. The color drained from your face, breath exhaled shakily as tears welled in your eyes. His response was a far cry from what he’d whispered as he came inside you just moments ago.

Your feet carried you away, stumbling back to the table to avoid being seen by Steve. You plopped into your chair, meeting the skittish gazes of Steve’s parents. Their expressions reminded you of your words from before, how you defended Steve, how very wrong you may have been.

Steve appeared a minute later clutching a new set of silverware and spewing an apology for how long it took. He placed the silverware in front of you, replacing your soiled set. His hand came to rest on your thigh and you couldn’t help the way you flinched at his touch. It was as if he was a completely different person to you now.

Conversation resumed, Steve easing the tension at the table and re-engaging with his parents. You chimed in when needed, staying silent otherwise, consumed by thought. Steve’s parents had warmed up to you again by the end of the meal, despite how shutdown you had become.

“Steve should bring you to our house in Long Beach sometime. It’s gorgeous this time of year,” Mrs. Harrington suggested and you forced on a fake smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes, as you nodded. You and Steve thanked his parents for dinner before heading back to Steve’s car.

The drive back to your house was quiet, your eyes peering through the window, gazing at the passing scenery, doing anything to keep from looking at the boy next to you. Steve came to a stop in front of your driveway and you immediately opened the door, stumbling out and starting the walk to your front door.

“What are you doing?” Steve called after you, exiting his car and following behind you.

“Going into my house,” you said, not bothering to turn around or stop, continuing your trek to the door.

“No kiss? No goodbye?” Steve questioned, finally reaching you at your doorstep. You had been fumbling with your keys, struggling to unlock the door. Steve’s hand landed on your shoulder and you snapped, abandoning your keys in the lock and whipping around to face him.

“Why does it matter? I’m just some girl that lets you fuck her on your couch, right? So why do you care?” anger spilled out of you with each syllable, causing Steve to pull back, his foot falling down a step, letting you tower over him. “Yeah, I heard you, asshole,” your words spewed from your lips as Steve’s mouth opened, silently fumbling for words.

“I didn’t-” Steve began before you cut him off.

“You don’t have to worry about people thinking you’re tied down anymore, King Steve,” you turned back to your front door, finally managing to get it unlocked. You took a step inside while Steve still stood on the doorstep. “Maybe you can find some other girl to fuck around with instead,” you slammed the door shut, sinking against it and falling to the ground as the tears you held in finally leaked down your cheeks. You didn’t mean it, of course you didn’t mean it. But the hurt and anger tore you apart as you sobbed into your hands.

Steve stood still on your doorstep, his feet rooted to the spot, staring at the closed door. He loved you, he knew that for sure. As his glassy eyes traced the spot where you just stood, he felt his heart crack and shatter, its pieces filling the pit of his stomach with enough force to make bile rise in his throat. Steve knew he loved you, and unfortunately, he knew that he also just lost you.

Someone you couldn’t lose

“I really would rather just go back home. Why do you even need me for this?” you asked Eddie, his arm interlocked with yours, dragging you forward. He continued his steady pace, not letting up despite your dragging feet that weighed him down.

“Because you haven’t done anything but cry for the past few days. You need to leave your cave of solitude,” Eddie’s breath was a bit labored as he led you to the entrance of The Hideout. “Plus Gareth canceled on me and I didn’t want to go by myself,” Eddie added, eliciting an eye roll from you.

“Why couldn’t you take Robin or, I don’t know, literally anyone else?” you asked while Eddie guided you through the bar. The bar was practically empty, the crowd even smaller than when Corroded Coffin usually plays. God, the band playing tonight must suck.

“Because I enjoy your company, sweetheart,” Eddie hummed, plastering a sickeningly sweet smile on his lips. A smile that you met with a glare. “And Robin is busy with Steve tonight,” he revealed his true reason for inviting you.

In another universe, a less complicated one, you would be mad at Eddie for being his last-resort concert buddy. But in this universe, the one where you and Steve were interlinked in an ever-so-tangled web, your heart stopped at the mention of his name.

Steve’s crude words played through your head like a bad earworm, momentarily overtaking your thoughts as your face faltered. Eddie watched the quiver of your lip and crease in your brow. He ached at the thought of your sadness, wanting to alleviate any trace of it, which is why he brought you to The Hideout, but not for the reason that you might think.

“Let’s go get a drink,” Eddie put his hand on your back ushering you towards the nearly empty bar. For once today, he didn’t have to drag you, your feet willingly trailing along behind him at the thought of alcohol. Eddie plopped down on a stool ordering you both a drink while you slid in beside him.

The drinks were quickly made and paid for, leaving the two of you to sip away in silence. Your gaze drifted around the bar, curiously eyeing its patrons. Something didn’t seem right as you scanned the stage set up on the side of the room.

“Eddie,” you took a sip of your drink, focus shifting back to the boy next to you. “If there’s a show tonight then why is it so empty in here?” the question left your lips and Eddie’s nervous stare landed on the wood surface of the bar below.

The front door slammed open, saving Eddie from your question. Your head whipped around at the sound of the door in combination with the hushed voices that filled the room. Steve and Robin. They were arguing about something, but you couldn’t hear them. The sounds that encompassed the bar slipped away, leaving your ears ringing in the stark silence.

Watery eyes gazed upon the boy across the bar that was too enveloped in his conversation to look up. Eddie cleared his throat beside you, but your eyes didn’t leave Steve, roaming over his wild hair and disheveled clothes. Eddie may not have been able to get your attention, but he did get Steve’s, drawing his awareness until his eyes landed on you.

Steve froze in place, his pink lips parting in surprise as he traced your features. His heart ached at the distance between you, both metaphorical and physical. You couldn’t help but feel the same as you got down from your stool, feet pulling you closer.

Steve met you halfway, stopping in the middle of the room, uncaring of the questioning looks you both attracted in the process. Words were lost on the tip of your tongue, incapable of leaving your lips.

“I didn’t know you were going to be here,” Steve spoke breathlessly, a nervous hand running through his hair. “Robin dragged me here, but I can leave if you want,” Steve offered, but you quickly found yourself shaking your head.

“Can we talk?” you asked, your voice small like a child who’d just been scolded. Steve nodded quickly, taking no time to think over your suggestion. He didn’t need to, all he could think about for the past few days was how badly he wanted to talk to you. The ache in his chest only grew more painful with each passing day of silence.

With his hand grasped in yours, you led Steve out the side door to an alleyway next to The Hideout. Your hand tingled at the warmth of Steve’s palm pressed gently against yours. Reluctantly, you dropped his hand, leaning against the building as Steve’s wandering gaze studied you nervously. He wasn’t sure whether you wanted to speak first or not, but he just couldn’t hold it in any longer, succumbing to his urge to expel an explanation.

“I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I said that about you,” Steve spewed out, his words desperate and pleading, frown lines etched deep into his skin.

“Is that really how you feel about me? That I’m just some girl?” you asked, voice quiet and broken, stifled by the tears welling in your eyes. You couldn’t meet his gaze, embarrassed to sound so small, so reliant on his opinion of you.

“No, absolutely not,” Steve shook his head immediately, stepping closer to you. “I just- I’ve been feeling a certain way about you lately, but I didn’t want to scare you. So I downplayed it, tried to make it seem like it was nothing to that guy from high school, but it is something,” Steve confessed, scanning your face for any hint of what you were thinking. He couldn’t find what he was looking for in your avoidant stare and his shoulders deflated.

A cool summer breeze whispered in the space between your bodies, bringing a chill to your skin as you thought over Steve’s words. You could feel the way his eyes searched you, pleading for a sign, but you didn’t budge, not when you didn’t have the answer you were looking for yet.

“And how exactly have you been feeling about me lately?” you finally look up, meeting Steve’s desperate stare. His lips parted, tongue darting out to wet them as he mulled over his next words. You were giving him a shot, a chance to lay it all out on the line. Steve just had to be smart enough, brave enough, to take it.

“Like I love you,” Steve asserted with shaky hands, carefully watching you for a reaction. The breath in your lungs fled, your eyes widening a bit and then softening in sweet admiration while the corner of your lips ticked upwards ever so slightly, which only encouraged Steve to continue. “Like I want to be with you all the time, not just late at night or when neither of us can get laid. I want you to be mine and for me to be yours,” his feet carried him closer to you, his spearmint and cigarette scented breath fanning warmly across your face. “Do you want that too?” he asked, his confidence dwindling by the second, making his voice as small as yours had been earlier.

His eyes darted back and forth tracing your soft skin, your lengthy eyelashes, and your plush lips. Steve was dying for your answer, just on the brink of falling to his knees and begging, but if there was even the slightest possibility that you were to reject him then he wanted to savor this moment beforehand. The calm before the storm.

He wanted to memorize the curve of your cheeks, every beauty mark or scar expanding across your skin, the way the moonlight illuminated your face in the dark of the night. Steve decided he could wait forever for you to speak your next syllable as long as he got to stay in this moment and simply be with you. But despite his desire to freeze time, your mouth opened, effectively sealing Steve’s potential fate with you.

“Yes,” your answer came out breathlessly like you had just finished running a marathon, and based on how fast your heart was pounding in your chest, you might as well have. Steve exhaled in a smile, his tongue wetting his lips once more. He wanted nothing more than to caress your supple skin and kiss you. So he did.

Steve wrapped you in his arms, pulling you flush against him, and searched your face for reassurance. When he found what he was looking for, Steve dived in, pressing his lips to yours. It was far from the first time you’d kissed, but something felt different this time. It was years of buried feelings finally clawing their way to the surface and announcing that they were here to stay. You pulled away with a smile and your forehead pressed to his.

“You know,” Steve spoke, words just above a whisper as he attempted to catch his breath. “Now that I think about it, there’s no way we coincidentally ended up in the same place at the same time,” he finished, arching a brow at you, hoping you’d understand what he was implying.

“Eddie and Robin definitely set this up,” you caught on to his train of thought.

“Definitely,” Steve agreed. He should be mad, he really should be. His friends had no right to meddle in his love life like this. But how could he be upset when he had you cradled in his arms and your chapstick smeared across his lips?

“I hate them,” you voiced, clearly unserious in your statement.

“I don’t,” Steve peered down at you, catching the reflection of the crescent moon in your eyes. “They brought me back to you,” he shrugged with a smile and you couldn't help but mirror him before closing the space between you with another kiss.

After a few more shared smiles and soft kisses, you and Steve decided to go back into the bar. It was just as empty as it had been before, further proving to you that Eddie lied in order to get you and Steve together. Steve’s hand was clasped around yours as you walked further in, spotting Eddie and Robin sitting across from one another in a booth.

“Follow my lead,” you whispered as the pair finally saw the two of you approaching. Wide smiles stretched their lips at the sight of you hand in hand.

“So Eddie, when’s this band coming on?” you asked, coming to a stop at the end of the booth. Eddie’s eyes widened at your question, having expected you to forget about how he got you to The Hideout under false pretenses, especially given the fact that you’d made up with Steve.

“There, uh, isn’t one for tonight,” Eddie stuttered, looking like a deer in headlights at the arch of your brow.

“Oh,” you did your best to look taken aback like this wasn’t the answer you had expected. “So you lied?” you questioned, your tone expressing more confusion rather than anger, which only made Eddie more nervous. His mouth hung agape while Steve and Robin stifled their giggles and smirks.

“How about I get everyone a drink?” Eddie stood up quickly, looking for an escape. “Steve? Wanna help?” Eddie backed away from you and headed towards the bar. Steve released his hand from yours, shaking his head with a smile as he followed behind.

You slid into Eddie’s vacated seat, across from Robin. She still had a smirk etched into her face when your gazes met.

“Don't think you’re off the hook too,” you stated and her smirk fell almost comically. Your gaze drifted from her to the bar, landing on Steve. He was already facing you with a warm smile.

“I love you,” he mouthed to you, and you felt your breath catch again. It was something you’d have to get used to. After so long of denying your feelings and the insistence to stay casual, it would be a big change. But it was a change you were more than happy to accommodate.

“I love you too,” you mouthed back, and you really did mean it.

821 notes · View notes

radiosteve · 2 years ago

Text

Call Me At Midnight

Summary: Your friend Steve invites you over for a late night movie. But you don't really like each other that much, right?

Note: Here's a shorter fic based on the song Apple Cider by beabadoobee. Hope you like it!

Warnings: No use of y/n, friends to lovers, a curse word or two?

Pairings: Steve Harrington x reader

Word count: 3.1k

The wind rattled brutally against your bedroom window, although you were none the wiser. Instead, you were lying face down in your bed, arms cradling your head as soft snores exuded from your lips. It's not like you meant to fall asleep when you got home from work, but the hours of standing on your feet and making coffees really did you in. So, when you toed off your shoes and laid back in your bed at 6 p.m., you couldn’t help but lose your ongoing battle with consciousness and let your eyes flutter shut. It was nice to get some shut-eye after a long day, even if it was short-lived.

The telephone on your nightstand rang out, reverberating off the walls and waking you from your slumber. Your hand shot out on instinct, grabbing the receiver to quell the incessant ringing. It finally stopped as you peeled your eyes open and brought the phone up to your ear.

“Hello?” you asked, voice strained and groggy with sleep. You were met with a chuckle on the other end of the line as you ran your hand over your face, attempting to rub the drowsiness from your eyes. It was a warm sound, like a blazing roar in the fireplace that encased the entire room in heat.

“Sorry grandma, didn’t realize you went to bed so early,” the smooth voice of Steve Harrington echoed through the phone. You and Steve had been friends for a while, meeting through Robin and the insanity that was working at Scoops Ahoy. Your eyes drifted to the alarm clock on your nightstand, its face reading 12:01 a.m.

“Don’t grandma me. It's after midnight, which is a perfectly reasonable hour to be asleep,” you defended yourself, throat still hoarse as you slowly withdrew from your sleep-induced haze. “Why’d you call anyways?” you asked bluntly, wanting to cut to the chase and wondering why you were awoken.

“Wanted to know if you’d come over and watch The Princess Bride. I know you’ve been dying to see it and I finally snagged a copy from work,” Steve said, brushing his sweaty palms against his jeans. He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous about asking you to come over. It's not like this would be a date, and he didn’t even like you that much, right? You considered his offer, going back and forth between how late it was and how much you wanted to watch The Princess Bride. The latter won.

“Alright, I’ll be there in ten. But just know, I’m coming over for the movie, not you,” you shrugged on a sweater, struggling to keep the phone to your ear as you did. It was your favorite sweater, a forest green cable knit that was soft to the touch. Steve had complimented it once, said that it looked good on you, and from then on you found yourself wearing it more and more, though you didn’t like to read into why.

“Noted. See you soon, grandma,” Steve spoke through the phone, a smirk that you couldn’t see dancing on his lips. He hung up just in time to hear your groan from the other end, which only encouraged his smile to stretch further.

The drive to Steve’s house never took very long, usually the duration of a song and a half from whatever pop station your radio was tuned to at the time. Steve’s house was dark when you arrived, no light seeping through the cold, empty window panes. It almost made you question if he was actually home, though you knew he was. The driveway remained empty too, save for Steve’s car, indicating that his parents were off on another business trip without him. Your car pulled up behind Steve’s in the driveway, the sound of some Tears For Fears song cutting off as you came to a stop and turned off the engine. You took a moment before getting out, trying to control the butterflies that suddenly bubbled up in your stomach. It’s just Steve. A loud thump startled you from your thoughts. Turning towards the window you found Steve knocking on it with a blanket wrapped around his head and shoulders.

“The hell are you doing?” you asked, getting out of the car and closing the door behind you. He looked like a baby swaddled in a blanket, the soft material obscuring his voluminous hair.

“E.T. phone home,” he outstretched his hand with his index finger jutting out towards you. It was his typical goofy Steve antics and you couldn’t let him know how much you enjoyed it. It’d go straight to his fluffy-haired head.

“Fuck off,” you smacked his hand away with a smile, walking towards the steps that led to the front door. Steve trailed behind you snickering to himself while his eyes drifted down your figure. He’d moved the blanket down from his head, letting it hang over his broad shoulders instead. His hair was disheveled, brown locks wildly out of place. It made you want to run your hands through his hair, tug on its strands, and bring him closer, hovering your lips close to his. But you didn’t.

With the turn of the knob, you opened the door, snapping your thoughts back to their regularly scheduled programming. You migrated to the couch across from the TV, taking a seat on its soft cushions while Steve disappeared to the kitchen.

“Want some apple cider? I just got it from the farmers market this morning,” Steve called out to you, catching the nod of your head that just barely peeked over the couch. The two of you bonded over your shared love of apple cider, ignoring Robin’s protests of how it was too appley, whatever the hell that means. You stood up, inserting the tape into the VCR and prepping the movie while Steve grabbed the snacks. He returned as the previews began to play, setting two glasses of apple cider and a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table.

You’d expected him to sit down then and join you on the couch. But he didn’t, wandering off back into the kitchen. You refocused your attention on the TV, watching a preview for a movie that you’d already seen so you seemed less interested in what Steve was doing. It was then that his head popped up next to you. Steve’s face was close to yours, only inches apart, as he leaned over the back of the couch to face you. You could smell his shampoo, its distinct scent reminding you of fruit punch.

“Left or right?” he asked and your eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“What are you talking about?” you questioned, unwilling to comply with whatever he was doing until you knew more.

“Just choose,” Steve insisted and you rolled your eyes. You studied him, searching for a sign of which one to choose. After a moment, you gave up and turned your head back towards the screen.

“Right,” you spoke confidently and a pack of Skittles dropped in your lap no more than a second later. Steve hopped over the back of the couch, landing in the spot next to you with a thump. He had a pack of Reese’s Pieces in his hand, tearing the wrapper open and shoving a handful in his mouth. You raised a brow and Steve chuckled, the sound made you want to laugh too.

“You chose the right side. That’s what was on the right,” Steve shrugged, looking away from you, unable to maintain eye contact while he lied. The Skittles were originally in his left hand, but Steve knew they were your favorite, so he switched them at the last second.

“Thanks, Stevie,” you nudged him with your shoulder, a small smile encasing your lips as you opened the candy. It was as if the world had stopped when you smiled, or at least it did for Steve. He’d do anything for you if it meant he got to see the wide stretch of your mouth pointed in his direction. Steve let his gaze linger on you for a moment, only redirecting his eyes away when the movie started.

The movie played, invoking giggles and gasps from both of you. As you swooned over Westley and Buttercup’s romance, Steve couldn’t help but swoon over you. His hazel eyes never strayed from you for too long as he pushed down the overwhelming urge to brush your hair from your face and kiss you. To live out a fantasy romance of his own where he could spend his days trying to save you. Steve could deny it all he wanted, but it was getting harder to hide that he did like you, that he always liked you.

The credits rolled and you immediately knew that The Princess Bride was your new favorite movie. It was perfect and everything you could have hoped for. The fact that Steve had been the one to watch it with you in no way affected that decision, right? Steve stood up, distracting you from the pull of your thoughts. He ejected the VHS tape and put it back into the case. It was then that you noticed how late it was, catching sight of the clock on the wall behind Steve and the television.

“Shit, it’s late. I should probably go,” you rose to your feet, shuffling to grab your empty glass of apple cider and discarded candy wrappers.

“Wait,” Steve stopped you, his voice almost panicked. He didn’t want you to leave, didn’t want the night to end. “You could stay over. I don’t think you should be driving so late,” he suggested, hoping it would convince you to stay. Truthfully, you didn’t want to leave, so when Steve made his offer you easily accepted. Steve led you upstairs where you dug through his dresser drawer to find a shirt and a pair of sweatpants you had left the last time you stayed over.

You shut the door to Steve’s bathroom, ignoring the jitters that ran through you. It’s just Steve, why were you so flustered? Granted, Robin was usually there too when you stayed over at Steve’s house. So the idea of staying alone at Steve’s felt new and exciting. It was like finally being allowed to do whatever you wanted, no watchful eyes lurking over your shoulder.

Steve was sitting on his bed when you emerged from the bathroom in your makeshift pajamas. Even in sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt, you still stole the air from Steve’s lungs, momentarily ceasing his breathing. Steve had changed too, his pajama pants hanging low on his hips and bare chest exposed to the cool night air.

“Where am I sleeping?” you asked, setting your clothes down on top of Steve’s dresser and hoping you wouldn’t forget them in the morning. You restrained yourself from letting your eyes drift to Steve’s shirtless figure, his chest hair taunting you with its curling tendrils from across the room.

“There’s a guest room down the hall,” Steve couldn’t help but notice the twinge of sadness that encompassed your expression when he spoke, one that he shared internally. “Or you could sleep in here. The house is kind of creepy at night,” Steve added, giving you a way in, an excuse to share a bed with the brown-haired boy.

“I’ll uh, I’ll just sleep in here then if you’re okay with that,” you spoke approaching Steve’s bed to join him where he sat. He nodded, ensuring you that he was indeed okay with sharing his room with you for the night. Honestly, he’d be more than okay to share his room with you every night.

The two of you laid back in Steve’s bed, making no argument about one of you sleeping on the floor. It was no use, and you both knew you’d just end up sharing the bed anyway. Steve flicked off his lamp as you pulled the bed sheets up to cover your shoulders.

It was late and you were tired, but the warmth that radiated off of Steve kept your mind alive, incapable of drifting off. He was like a fire that burned just for you, flames flickering in the cool night to make your skin slick with sweat. It didn’t help that the fruit punch smell from Steve’s shampoo was laced into the fabric of the pillowcase underneath your head, filling each inhale with the overwhelming scent of the boy that you tried to deny liking.

You turned to Steve, unable to feign sleep any longer, eyes searching his side profile. It was unclear what you were looking for, even to yourself, but you still felt drawn to him. Steve, who couldn’t sleep either, felt your eyes on him, invoking a smirk to uplift the corners of his mouth as his eyes opened.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Steve teased, turning to meet your gaze, his hand laid under his cheek, flat against his pillow. You let out a sarcastic laugh at his joke, eyes narrowing in faux anger.

“It’s kind of weird being here without Robin,” you spoke softly, still letting your gaze drift over Steve. His brow furrowed at your words, worry washing over him. Did you not want to be here with just him?

“What do you mean?” Steve shifted in his spot, tucking an arm under his pillow, smoothing its edge to better see you.

“She fills in the gaps with her little rambles,” you answered, unable to hide the fond smile that stretched your lips at the thought of your talkative friend. Steve hummed in agreement, reminiscing over Robin’s inability to stop talking when she should.

A silence settled over the two of you, only accentuating your point. But it was comfortable and pleasant, leaving you to swallow the air that passed between the short distance from each of your lips. Steve glanced at your hair then, admiring the way it spread across the pillow, his pillow.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” you shot back, repeating Steve’s own words from earlier after noticing his prolonged stare. You expected Steve to shift his eyes then, settle his gaze on some object across the room. The last thing you expected was for him to reach out, to run his thick fingers through the tangled strands of your hair. You sunk into his touch, feeling the gentle scratch of his nails against your scalp. A sigh fell from your lips, soft and shallow as if you were barely breathing at all.

“Have I ever told you how much I like your hair?” he asked, voice calm and quiet, hardly audible despite the silence in the air. You shook your head, suddenly incapable of forming words. “Well, I do,” his hand rested there for another moment before dropping down, finding your hand that rested on the mattress. Steve laced his fingers with yours and you could’ve sworn that your skin tingled at the feeling. The brush of his hand against yours, ridged fingerprints pressed to the back of your palm.

“Steve,” his name escaped your lips in a whisper, the silence emphasizing the crack of your voice. You said his name like it was your favorite word, like you’d never speak any other name again. He simply kept his gaze on you, unwavering and surprisingly calm given how fast his heart was beating in his chest. “What are you…” you began, letting your question hang in the air. You didn’t want to break the moment, but you were desperately curious about Steve’s sudden shift in behavior.

“I just-” Steve breathed out, his voice shaking with nerves. “I just really like talking to you,” he finished, and your heart swelled within your chest as a feeling of anticipation filled you. You read between the lines, taking Steve’s words for what they truly meant, not just what he said. It was like seeing the sun peek through the clouds, making your first friend in kindergarten, hearing the final ring of the bell on the last day of school. It was the hope, the realization, that maybe Steve liked you too.

“I like talking to you too, Stevie,” you inched closer, Steve’s hand still wrapped around yours. You looked up at him, doe-eyed and hopeful. If there was ever a chance, then this was it. Steve observed you, admiring the flutter of your lashes as you blinked, the plush of your lips, the curve of your cheeks.

He wanted to kiss you, and he was starting to get the feeling that you wanted to kiss him too. So he put on a brave face, leaning in ever so slowly, giving you a chance to pull away if this wasn’t what you wanted. God, Steve hoped you didn’t pull away. You didn’t, meeting Steve halfway as his breath fanned your face, his lips ghosting over yours.

A gasp expelled from within your chest as Steve finally closed the gap, brushing his lips fiercely against yours. He swallowed your gasp, relishing in the feeling he craved since he first met you. His lips were soft, the lingering taste of apple cider invading your taste buds as he slipped his tongue against yours. You melted into Steve, your body now flush with his. One of his hands cradled your face while the other untangled from yours, snaking around to pull your hips closer to his. It was a bruising kiss, one you never wanted to pull away from.

But then you started laughing, your teeth bared in between kisses with the uptick of your lips. Steve couldn’t help but reciprocate your giggles until the two of you broke apart, foreheads pressed together as your chuckles broke through heavy breaths.

“What’s so funny?” Steve finally managed to get out, his hands still caressing your skin. His soft gaze held you comfortably in place, keeping you right where you wanted to be.

“Didn’t think I liked you that much,” you spoke with an air of levity in your tone. The repressed feelings you had for the boy beside you, your friend Steve, finally coming to light. Steve’s smile only grew, his fingers dancing across your cheeks in a gentle stroke of your skin.

“I didn’t think I liked you that much either,” he shrugged, and you wanted to laugh. You were two fools, hopelessly and desperately pushing aside your feelings for no good reason. Steve liked you and you liked him, it was as simple as that. It made you think about all the time you both wasted, all the kisses you could’ve shared. So you dove back in, sinking into the plush of Steve’s lips once more. And he welcomed you warmly, swallowing your shallow moans as he thought about how lucky he was that you accepted his midnight invitation.

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radiosteve · 2 years ago

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I knew you was so amazing I haven’t even finished yet and I don’t want to cause I don’t want it to end.

Thank you that’s so sweet 🥹

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radiosteve · 2 years ago

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just wanted to let you know how much I enjoyed reading I Knew You thank you so much for writing it 🥺 but I have to say as an Eddie girlie... I'm so curious what happened during that one time him and Baby made out like 😮‍💨

if you do write a blurb about it you best believe I'll eat it up so quick (if not that's fine too btw! my imagination will run wild I suppose HAHA)

I'm so glad you enjoyed it! I actually really wanted to write out this scene, so thanks for giving me a reason to! Hope you like it!

Baby Kiss It Better

Warnings: 18+, slight smut, language

Word count: 1.2k

You flung your backpack from your shoulders, leaving it to land on the mess that was Eddie Munson’s bedroom floor. With a sigh, you fell face-first onto his bed, shoving your head into his pillow. Eddie shut the door to his room softly, his worried, wide eyes gazing over your limp figure sprawled out on his bed. Wayne had already left for the day and Eddie couldn’t be more glad, knowing you needed privacy to unwind.

“You alright kiddo?” he slowly approached the bed. Rather than use your words, you responded with a muffled groan, your position unchanged. Eddie sat on the edge of his bed, his hand coming down to pet your head as if you were a cat. Your head shot up then, shooting him a glare. Eddie held his hands up in defense, ceasing the motion. You rolled over onto your back, hugging Eddie’s pillow to your chest.

“I can’t wait until we graduate, then I never have to see Steve’s stupid face again,” you pouted and Eddie leaned over you, his hair dangling in your face.

“Are you forgetting that you live next door to the guy?” he asked, eliciting another groan from you as you lifted your hands to push him away. Eddie just smirked, his smile looking like nothing but trouble. “You know what could make you feel better?” you propped yourself up on your elbows at Eddie’s question, ignoring how they uncomfortably sank into the bed as you did.

“What?” you asked, voice monotone as you still clung to your bad mood. Seemingly out of nowhere, Eddie produced a joint, holding it between his fingers as an offering to you. “I knew we were friends for a reason,” you smirked, snatching the joint from his hand and getting up to find a lighter in the mess of Eddie’s room.

One joint later, the two of you were zoned out on the couch in Eddie’s living room, munching on stale popcorn and a way-too-old granola bar. Eddie had been staring at the same spot on the wall for the past five minutes while you tried to see how much popcorn you could put in his hair before he noticed. The TV played in the background, the low hum of static filling the silent room. You let out a sigh, coming to terms with the fact that Eddie wasn’t going to notice the popcorn’s new place of residency in his hair.

“Fuck, I’d blow someone for a pizza right now,” you exclaimed, having no filter in your inebriated state. Eddie finally pulled his gaze from the wall, fully intending to look at you but getting distracted by the snacks in his hair. He picked up one piece at a time, munching away on each kernel.

“Pizza sounds otherworldly,” Eddie spoke after clearing the snack food from his hair. He got up and grabbed the phone from the kitchen, calling in an order for two large pizzas. He sat back next to you on the couch, spreading his legs wide, hardly noticing the way they brushed against yours.

“Do I have to blow you now?” you asked bluntly, still devoid of embarrassment given how strong your high was. Eddie’s head whipped towards you, eyebrows raised and wide-eyed.

“What? No. Why would you…” Eddie didn’t even finish his question before you cut him off, your words clashing with his.

“Because I said I’d blow… fuck, never mind,” you faced back towards the TV, crossing your arms over your chest with a huff. Why were you even mad? It’s not like you wanted to go down on him anyway, right? The question blurred in the fog of your mind, wires crossing and changing what would typically be a ‘no’ into a ‘yes’. You’d always felt at ease with Eddie and the two of you had a good rapport. So fuck it, it's fine.

You turned to Eddie once again, finding his eyes already glued to you. With a nod of permission, you threw one leg over him, sitting comfortably in his lap. He let out a small gasp at the contact, the round of your ass pressed flush against his thighs. That’s when you leaned in, your lips meeting his in a crash of hazy lust.

Eddie couldn’t help the moan that escaped him, the feel of you pressed against him driving him crazy. He’d only kissed two girls before you and was still very much a virgin with a capital V. So the feel of you on him, mixed with his steady high, brought a buzz to his skin that he just couldn’t shake. He couldn’t help the jerk of his hips as he rutted into you while you slipped your tongue against his.

“Fuck,” you drawled out at the feeling, leaning back a bit to revel in the way his hard cock brushed your clothed core through your jeans. You had far more experience than Eddie, but your high set your skin alive too, making you more sensitive than normal. After a moment of Eddie’s eyes searching yours, he did it again, rutting against the rough material of your jeans. A whimper slipped from you then and brought your lips back to Eddie’s. You let your hands tangle through his hair, pulling his head back to place wet kisses on his thick neck.

“Christ,” Eddie cursed as you rolled your hips against his, setting a steady pace. Your lips trailed up from his neck, along his jawline, and back to his lips. “Feels so good, Baby,” Eddie mumbled against your lips as his hands trailed down to your waist, resting there as you ground into him. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped you at the combination of his words and the way his cock felt against your clit.

Eddie’s breath picked up, getting way too close to blowing his load for comfort. But he didn’t want to stop, the weed keeping his head foggy enough to not think about the consequences. You panted into his mouth and your tits jiggled through your t-shirt, bouncing with each roll of your hips. Eddie had to close his eyes to stay in control, but it didn’t matter for very long.

A knock sounded from the front door, suddenly snapping you both back to reality and dissipating your highs. You scrambled off of Eddie, a groan rising in his throat as you did. With a check of your hair and adjustment of your now wrinkled clothes, you opened the door to find the pizza delivery guy. Eddie’s eyes widened at the sight of the man in the doorway. He’d honestly forgotten that he ordered pizza.

Eddie tossed you his wallet from his place on the couch, unwilling to get up and give the pizza guy a good look at his hardened length through his jeans. You paid for the pizzas and closed the door, setting them on the counter. Eddie’s gaze was drawn to the floor while your expression was hidden with a wince.

“So,” you spoke faintly, teetering back and forth on your heels. Eddie peered up at you through his bangs, embarrassed as he waited for you to continue. “We never speak of this again?” you suggested and Eddie nodded instantly. The two of you sighed a breath of relief, knowing that this drug-induced makeout wouldn’t affect your friendship. You grabbed two plates from the cabinet, bringing the pizza boxes over to the coffee table. You sat next to Eddie, a soft smile on your lips as you both grabbed a slice.

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radiosteve · 2 years ago

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Hi I don't know if your taking requests at the moment but I just finished I knew you with Steve Harrington and I absolutely loved it ❤ I was wondering if you could possibly do a little piece where Steve and reader go back to Hawkins for a visit I would love to see how everyone would react 🤍

Hi! Thank you so much for your request! I hope you enjoy!

Come Back to Me

Word count: 983

The crisp autumn air invaded your car, sending shivers down your spine. You wrapped your jacket closer to your body before replacing your hands on the wheel. Steve’s hand snaked out from his pocket, landing on your leg in a comforting pat.

“You really gotta get the heat in this thing fixed,” Steve spoke, a cloud of his breath filling the air. He quickly withdrew his hand, shoving it back into his coat pocket so his fingers didn’t freeze.

“We’re almost there Stevie boy. You can hold on a little longer,” you spared a glance at Steve in the passenger seat and couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. His shoulders were up to his ears while his nose and cheeks were bright pink. He was shivering, teeth chattering and all.

“Your parents better have a fire going when we get there,” Steve mumbled, his mouth disappearing under the lip of his coat, obscuring half of his face. You let out another chuckle, passing the ugly brown sign that welcomed you to your hometown.

Luckily for Steve, your parents did have a fire roaring in the fireplace when you arrived. Steve dropped his bags upon entering, sidling right up to the blazing fire to warm his hands and face. After a moment of relishing in the heat, Steve joined you in greeting your parents with hugs and kisses to each cheek.

“We’re just going to throw our bags upstairs really quick. We’ll be right back,” you told your parents, lifting your suitcase from its resting place and marching up the stairs with Steve in tow.

During your trek upstairs you were greeted with all the comforts that made your parents' house home. Photos lining the hallways, the soft carpet that squished under your sock-clad feet, the distant sound of your mom’s stereo playing in the kitchen. It had only been a few months since you’d moved out, back now for Thanksgiving, but it seemed like so much longer. You were so caught up in the nostalgia of your childhood home that you didn’t hear the hushed whispers behind your bedroom door.

A loud, disjointed shout of surprise filled the room as you pushed in the door. You recoiled in surprise, nearly knocking Steve over in the process. Both of your suitcases were abandoned in the hallway as you were pulled into one pair of arms after another. Everyone moved downstairs to where your parents stood with knowing grins on their faces, happy to see you and Steve reunited with your large group of friends. You all migrated around the fireplace, telling stories and catching up on all that you’ve missed.

“Yeah and then Eddie nearly ran us over with his van,” Dustin finished his story about a prank they’d pulled on Eddie last month, shooting a glare at the long-haired boy beside you.

“And I won’t hesitate to go through with it next time,” Eddie shot back, his usual goofiness taking all the bite out of his threat. You leaned back on the couch, Steve’s arm coming up to rest on the cushion behind you.

“How’s the band, Munson?” Steve asked as you nuzzled your head into his shoulder.

“Same old, same old. Not as fun playing at The Hideout without my number one fan in the audience,” Eddie poked your rib, careful to avoid the scars that resided just below there. “Buckley doesn't quite measure up,” Eddie added, as everyone’s gaze shifted to Robin for her reaction.

“He’s no Bowie,” she shrugged and you couldn’t help the grin that formed on your lips as Eddie launched a pillow directly at her face.

After a while of catching up, sleep hung heavy on your mind, growing desperate for some shut-eye after the long drive. All the kids insisted on sleeping over, pulling out blankets and sleeping bags from the back of Eddie’s van that was parked down the street. You all lay on the floor, hushed whispers turning to soft snores as the dark hours lingered on. You got up to go to the bathroom after a bit of tossing and turning. Somehow, you found yourself trailing upstairs, drawn to your childhood bedroom and the purple curtains that framed your window.

“You okay?” a soft voice called out through the dimly lit room. Steve. You nodded and he slowly approached you, arms encircling you from behind as you faced the window again.

“It’s nice to see everyone again,” you whispered, not wanting to wake anyone. Steve nodded against you in agreement. “I miss them, but I wouldn’t change anything. I’m still glad that we got out of this town,” your voice was gentle, calming in the quiet of the night.

“Me too, Baby,” Steve agreed, placing a kiss on your cheek. You smiled as he did, eyes flickering out the window to the familiar house next door. Steve’s gaze followed yours, peering out and landing on his own childhood bedroom window. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to being on this side of the window,” he chuckled in your ear and you let out a breathy laugh. You turned in his arms, leaning up to place a soft kiss on his lips. He kissed you back, his arms trailing to your lower back as you let out a soft sigh. It felt like the first time. The accumulation of all of your feelings for the brown-haired boy attached to your lips. A throat cleared from the doorway, pulling your attention from Steve as you untangled yourself from his arms.

“Where’s the bathroom?” Lucas stood just outside of your room, feeling very awkward about breaking up your moment with Steve. You moved forward, intending to guide Lucas to the bathroom. You glanced over your shoulder, catching sight of the goofy smirk plastered on Steve’s lips. You mirrored his smile, shaking your head lightly with a giggle as you led Lucas down the hall.

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radiosteve · 2 years ago

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Took me almost all night to read “I knew you” ugh i went through so many emotions. I wanted to hit Steve. I wanted to shake Baby and tell her to wake up. Love love loved it. Such a beautiful story

Thank you so much!! I'm so glad you liked it!!

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radiosteve · 2 years ago

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I Knew You

Summary: You and Steve Harrington have hated each other ever since sixth grade, which made living next door to him all the more miserable. It hadn't always been like that though, shared smiles and loving gestures in secret before popularity went to his head. But now, Steve somehow keeps finding ways to squeeze himself back into your life, making you question if the boy you once knew, the one you might have loved, still lived somewhere within him.

Note: Its been a bit since I last posted, but I had this idea and really wanted to write it. I'm currently drowning with work and school stuff for my masters so my next fic might take a hot minute and will definitely be shorter. This takes place in the fall after season 4 and both Eddie and Max survived with minimal injuries. It’s also partially inspired by Cardigan by Taylor Swift, hence the lyrics as chapter titles. This ended up being way longer than I intended for it to be, but I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: 18+, no use of y/n (reader is referred to as Baby), smut, unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), enemies to lovers, language, mentions of blood/injuries, some cannon divergence, fluff, angst, slowburn.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x reader

Word count: 30.5k (I got carried away)

I knew I’d curse you for the longest time

The last salt of the summer air lazed its way through the breeze, picking up the fresh fallen leaves with it. There wasn’t enough foliage on the ground to worry about raking them just yet, but it still brought a chill down your spine at the thought of autumn’s rapid approach. You were sitting on the window bench in your room with a book in your hands and your back against the wall as the breeze floated through the open window, making the curtains dance despite being drawn back. It was a moment of quiet, something you desperately needed.

You were lost in words on the page before you, taking them in sentence after sentence, until the loud slam of a door interrupted your trance. The sound of the door was followed by singing, loud and obnoxious singing. More specifically, Steve Harrington’s loud and obnoxious singing. He had just strolled into his room, playing air guitar along to whatever metal song he was bellowing. A metal song that you presumed Eddie had played so many times on the tape player in his van that it somehow ingrained itself into Steve’s pop-hits brain.

You sighed, shaking your head to try and brush off the noise as if this was a daily occurrence. Well, it almost was, in some form or another. You lived next door to Steve Harrington for as long as you could remember. Your bedroom windows faced each other too, allowing each of you to gain small, often unwelcome, glimpses into the other’s life. Just about every girl in school had come up to you at least once to tell you how lucky you were to have such an easy way to see Steve Harrington. Then they’d always proceed to ask if they could join you for a sleepover at your house, no doubt just to get a chance to spy on the boy in his natural habitat.

Your eyes flitted back down to the page, stuck on the same sentence ever since your ears were met with the unwelcome disturbance that was Steve Harrington’s singing. He’d moved on from singing to vocalizing the song’s guitar solo, which was somehow even more annoying. Steve’s arms moved wildly up and down his fake guitar as he banged his head up and down. If you weren’t so annoyed you’d honestly be impressed by the amount of endurance Steve’s performance surely required. But you were annoyed. Annoyed enough to finally speak up.

“Do you constantly have to make so much noise or do you just like to hear the sound of your own voice?” your remark rang out through the open window, trickling through the air to reach Steve’s room. You didn’t look up from your book, doing your best to look unbothered. Steve stopped singing and thrashing about. His heavy breaths evened out slightly before he responded, slowly approaching the window sill.

“Do you constantly have a stick up your ass or do you just like to pretend that you do?” your eyes widened at that, putting your book to the side as you turned to face the window, to face Steve. He had a smirk on his lips, one that you were more than familiar with by now. It was the smirk he flashed each time he said something that he knew would piss you off. Quite frankly, it was the expression you were most familiar with seeing Steve wear at this point in your life.

“If there’s a stick up my ass then it's only because you put it there,” it was a lame comeback. You knew it. Steve knew it. But they can’t all be winners. You winced as the words fell from your lips, waiting for Steve’s retaliation, which was sure to be unsavory.

“I don’t recall ever doing that. But Baby, if you bend over I’d be more than happy to oblige,” Steve's smirk grew wider. Whether it was the stupid nickname or the sexual nature of his response that caused the flash of his pearly teeth, you didn’t know. However, you did know that you hated it, all of it. You hated that you constantly walked right into his dumb little comebacks. You hated that he seemingly had an endless supply of them just for you. You hated the day that the stupid nickname was ever aimed in your direction and you hated that Steve Harrington was the one to do it.

It was late September 1978. Summer was still putting up a fight, albeit a weak one, to keep its warmth in the air. It had rained the night before, washing away the fresh fallen leaves to get stuck in the gutters along the roof or in the storm drains beside the narrow streets. School had only started back up a few weeks ago, and somehow, Steve found himself climbing the popularity ranks. It was a big deal for a sixth grader who’d only just begun his journey at Hawkins Middle to be so admired so fast, but Steve was already starting to see people worship the ground he walked on. He liked the idea of it, that he could waltz through the door of some place and up and run it so soon. His dad always said that the Harringtons were winners, and Steve knew he would be nothing if he disappointed his dad.

Steve was walking to school that morning, Tommy and Carol to his left as a group full of his classmates followed closely behind. It was as if Steve had his very own entourage. They were a few blocks from the school when he saw it, a bike abandoned on the grass next to the sidewalk. There was a backpack beside it too, laying face down as if it had been thrown off in haste. It didn’t take long for Steve to realize why the bike before him looked so familiar. It was the same one he had seen you on almost every day that summer. The bike you rode to the library, to Lover’s Lake, to the movie theater, to the quarry. As long as it was a place with a good story waiting to be watched or read, or a quiet environment to immerse yourself in a good book, someone was sure to find you there with that bike.

Steve panicked for a moment, preparing himself to run to the police station and report that you had been kidnapped. But then he looked up. You were hunched over the sidewalk a few yards up, picking at something on the surface of the cement. Steve’s legs moved, the others following, and stopped once again, this time only a few feet from where you sat on the sidewalk. Steve’s brows furrowed as he looked down, finally getting a good look at what you were doing.

You sat there, slowly and gently peeling the dried worms from the sidewalk. Then you parted the grass next to the sidewalk, putting the worm down to get it as close to the soil as possible. Steve watched you curiously as you moved on to the next worm. It was then that the breeze picked up a bit, shifting away the hair that covered your face. Steve saw it, the tear tracks running down your cheeks as you struggled with the worms that Steve was sure were already dead. A few chuckles sounded from the group behind Steve, and suddenly he remembered that it was not just you and him on that sidewalk.

You too had suddenly become aware of your audience then, head snapping up to see the group in front of you. Your eyes landed on Steve. His expression was etched with empathy, an emotion Steve still held onto no matter how much Tommy tried to strip it from him in his sudden rise to king status. At that moment you didn’t care about the others or the tears that still leaked down your soft cheeks. You cared about the poor worms that stuck to the sidewalk. Your gaze landed on Steve, appealing to the boy who lived beside you for so many years.

“The rain,” you sniffled and Steve’s heart ached at the sound. He’d seen you cry before, as he was sure you had seen him cry too, through the cracks in the curtains obscuring bedroom windows. Each time Steve had to stop himself from marching over to your house and wrapping you in a comforting hug. It was an urge that he still had to repress, even here and now. “The rain cools down the sidewalk and the worms like to come out onto it. But it- it’s not raining anymore. It's too hot for them now. They- they’re burning alive,” fresh tears fell, replacing the old ones. They ran races against each other, fighting to be the first to drip off of your chin and onto the cement below. Steve’s mouth opened, but he was cut off by the boy beside him.

“Whatever, worm girl. Just move out of the way so we can get to school,” Tommy’s words rang through the air, the entourage laughing at you from behind him. Steve could picture it now, you’d spend the rest of middle and high school deemed as the worm girl. You’d hide in all of your classes, eat lunch by yourself in the library, and ignore the taunts that echoed throughout the hallway. Worm girl, worm girl, worm girl. You’d leave Hawkins the day after graduation, a car full of boxes, your life packed up and tucked away in each, and you’d never return. You’d start a new life in a new city that only knows you by your real name, not some playground-esque tease that stupid Tommy Hagan awarded you in 6th grade. You’d be happy there, build a place you could call home, find your one true love, and Steve would never see you again.

Steve had to stop this now. He had to bury the name worm girl in the ground before it could ever fully emerge. And there was only one way that Steve’s prepubescent brain could think how. Your eyes flickered from Tommy before landing back on Steve, willing him to say something, to defend you. Maybe that was too much to ask.

“Damn, that was lame. Worm girl, really? Are we five?” Steve pulled his gaze from yours. He couldn’t bear to see the look of hope that blossomed in your eyes. Not with what he was about to say next. “I mean, if anything, we should call her Baby since she’s crying like one,” small giggles sounded off behind Steve before being overtaken by full-blown giggles and laughs. And there it was. Steve’s master plan had come to fruition. Replace a bad nickname with a not-as-bad nickname. It wasn’t a great plan, he knew that, especially when he saw the scrunch of your brows and the quiver of your bottom lip, but it was the best that Steve’s 11-year-old thoughts could conjure on such short notice. And Baby really wasn’t that bad. It's a term of endearment for Christ's sake. Or at least that’s what Steve would tell himself.

Tommy laughed from beside Steve, throwing an arm over Carol and guiding her to walk around you. The others followed, hurling a few taunting calls of ‘Baby’ at you as they walked by. You looked back down at the ground, refocusing yourself on the task at hand, ignoring the cracks running along the foundations of your heart. Maybe Steve wasn’t the same boy you had grown up with. Maybe his middle school fame had gone to his head more than you thought it would. More than you hoped it would.

You had just freed another dried worm from its place on the sidewalk when you saw it. A pair of Nikes in front of you. Steve Harrington’s pair of Nikes. He hadn’t gone with the others. It was like he was rooted to the spot. You placed the worm into the depths of the grass, tilting your head to look up at the boy towering over you.

“Screw you, Steve,” you spoke harshly, doing your best to let venom lace your words despite the shake in your voice. Steve didn’t say anything back. He just crouched down in front of you, gently picking up the last worm from the sidewalk. He copied what you had done, parting the grass to place the worm close to the damp earth below. Steve stood up then, walking back to the group that had now passed you, heading towards the school. They hadn’t even noticed he was gone.

Steve rejoined them, sticking to the back of the group to not draw attention to his momentary absence. He looked back at you then, finding you with your head turned over your shoulder, already gazing at him with confusion plastered across your face. He shot you a soft smile, one that he had typically reserved just for you. It only lasted a moment, but for that moment you were more perplexed than before.

In that smile was Steve. The Steve. The one that had plaid wallpaper in his room and hand-drawn pictures of cars taped to the walls (some that you had drawn for him). He was the boy who had a slew of green army men sitting on his window sill, the same ones that he had given you. They sat pointing towards the street out front, and never ever at you. They protected both of your rooms. The soldiers protected them from monsters, wizards, ghosts, and disappointed parents. At that moment, Steve was the boy next door who left messages taped to his window for you to see. The boy who stayed a few paces behind your bike after school to make sure you got home safely. He was the boy who promised to love you always before placing a peck on your lips when you were both five. He was the boy you knew, not the one who humiliated you in front of his friends.

But the moment ended. The smile dropped from Steve’s face as quickly as it had appeared. He turned his head back around, putting more and more distance between the two of you. You watched him for a moment longer until you finally managed to tear your gaze from his retreating figure. You moved then, leaning over the grass to see the worm that Steve had placed there, worried that he left it too high up. Most of the worms were dead long before you got there, you knew that, but it didn’t stop you from trying to help them. All the worms in the grass were lifeless and unmoving despite your efforts. All except one. It was the worm Steve had placed there.

You jumped into action then, using your fingers to dig a hole in the dirt. As quickly as you could, you placed the worm into the hole, covering it with the fresh soil. Its tail poked out just a bit and you watched with bated breath as it slowly retracted, moving deeper into the ground below. You glanced up at the sidewalk again, expecting to still see Steve in the distance, but he was gone. Over the hill and out of your eye line, just like the worm.

“Don’t call me that,” you bit through gritted teeth and Steve just laughed. His stupid, obnoxious, loud laugh. The one that warned you that danger was near anytime you heard it in the hallway in high school.

“Would you prefer I call you something else?” Steve pondered dramatically, bringing a finger to his lip and glancing up as if he were trying to remember something. “Maybe worm-” Steve began, a look of anger more prominent on your face now.

“Fuck you, Steve,” you cut him off before he could finish his taunt. He was about to say something else, no doubt another snarky comment that you could definitely afford to miss. It was about to spring from his lips when Steve was met with the sound of your window slamming shut. You locked it too, pulling the curtains closed and retreating to your bed, no longer in the mood to read. Steve stared at the purple curtains now blocking his view of you. Oh, how he hated that specific shade, knowing that they were the only thing keeping him from gazing at you.

Steve closed his window too, locking it the same as you had. But he kept his curtains open, hoping to maybe catch a glimpse of you later. The hand-drawn cars that once lined his walls were replaced by movie posters, ones he had gotten for free from work. He still had the army men littered along the window sill though. Most of them had been knocked over on their sides and Steve never bothered to pick them back up. They pointed at your room now, though Steve never intended for them to do so, unlike you who had purposefully aimed your soldiers at Steve’s window no more than a few days after Wormageddon.

Steve sat back on his bed, laying down and placing his arms under his head. He’d made you mad. Gotten you all riled up, just as he had planned from the second you opened your mouth. So why did he not feel better right now? Why did his stomach hurt and his heart refused to rest? This battle was over. The war waged on but this was still a victory worth noting in the imaginary books. He hadn’t gotten the final word but he still won nonetheless. Isn’t that what he was supposed to do? He was a Harrington after all, and Harringtons were winners. Right?

But I knew you’d linger like a tattoo kiss

The sun crept along the horizon, unwilling to give in to the moon just yet. Orange and pink illuminated your room through the open curtains. You sat at your vanity, applying a final layer of gloss to your lips before smacking them together. Unbeknownst to you, Steve had been watching you through the window. He admired the effort you took while getting ready, although he knew you didn’t need it. Steve would never admit it, he’d repressed it for far too long, but he thought you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

You turned towards your closet, digging through it to find a pair of shoes that matched your outfit. Steve couldn’t help the clawing desire to know what you were getting ready for. There weren’t any parties that he knew of that night. Maybe you were hanging out with Nancy and Robin. He couldn’t imagine why you’d need to get dressed up for that though. Steve wished your window was open. He would lean on his window sill, asking about your plans for the evening. He’d say it in that snarky Steve Harrington way. The way he knew would elicit an eye roll in response. But maybe you’d give in and tell him. Maybe you’d invite him to go with you. Or maybe Steve was letting fantasy mix with reality.

A car horn sounded from outside, pulling Steve from his thoughts with a jump. He didn’t realize he was still standing at his window staring at you. At least he hadn’t until you rushed to your window, trying to get a glimpse of the vehicle out front. Your eyes locked with Steve’s then and you could’ve sworn you saw him blush. You brushed it off, refocusing on why you had come to the window in the first place. Parked on the street in front of your house sat a van. A beat-up, rusty, falling apart at the seams, van. Steve’s gaze followed yours, also noticing the van below. A van he was more than familiar with at this point.

You bent over, pulling on your shoes as quickly as you could before rushing out of your room and down the stairs. Steve jumped into action then, doing the same from within his own house. He burst out the front door just in time to see you grabbing for the handle of the van’s passenger side door. Steve peered through the windshield getting a glance of the unruly curls that rested on Eddie Munson’s head. You hopped into the van and Eddie looked up, seeing Steve cut through his yard and head towards the van. You fastened your seatbelt and looked up, also catching sight of the boy rapidly approaching you.

“Eddie, please drive. Like right now,” you turned to the boy next to you. Your voice came out shaky and desperate. Definitely not the commanding tone you’d hoped for.

“Sorry, princess. Gotta see what the hair is so adamantly chasing us for,” Eddie shrugged and you groaned, throwing your head back. Unfortunately that only made Eddie laugh at you.

“If you leave right now, I’ll do anything you ask for the rest of the night,” you pleaded, clasping your hands together to beg.

“As tempting as that sounds, it’s a bit too late,” Eddie points to the window behind you. You turn, seeing Steve standing next to your window, hand raised in a wave. Eddie leaned over, arm reaching across your lap to crank the window down, because he knew damn well that you wouldn’t do it. Not when Steve was standing on the other side at least.

“You’re like a goddamn jumpscare. I hope you know that Harrington,” you spoke, folding your arms over your chest as Eddie retreated back to his side of the van. He could identify the hint of jealousy on Steve’s face all too well. It was the same look Steve wore anytime a guy got too close to you or made you smile a bit wider than normal. Eddie was well aware of Steve’s complicated feelings for you, even though Steve sure as hell wasn’t.

“Whatcha up to? I thought you were staying home tonight?” Steve asked Eddie, resting his hands against the van’s door. He was close to you, too close. You leaned back in your seat, putting more space between the two of you.

“Well, now I’m not,” Eddie shot Steve a cheeky smile and Steve just blinked in response. “Ok fine,” Eddie gave in, unraveling under Steve’s stare. He hated lying to Steve, especially now that they’d gotten closer. “We’re going to see some band play at The Hideout. We’ve had these plans for weeks. I lied about staying home,” Eddie rushed out and your mouth dropped in shock.

“One look into Harrington’s sparkly eyes and you're spilling your guts? Pathetic,” you groaned from your seat. Eddie rolled his eyes, focusing them back onto Steve.

“You think my eyes are sparkly?” Steve quipped, a smirk growing on his lips. You heard Eddie laugh beside you and you couldn’t help the scowl that formed on your face.

“Get over yourself, Steve,” you moved your hand over the window crank, threatening to roll up the window, but Steve stopped you.

“Wait! I wanna come with,” he spoke quickly, eyes darting back and forth between you and Eddie. You couldn’t help the laugh that formed in your throat. “What’s so funny?” Steve glared at you then.

“Well, for one, you hate metal music,” you began and Steve scoffed.

“So do you,” Steve tried to retaliate, but the smirk on your lips told him he was fighting a losing battle.

“Sure, I’m not the biggest metal fan, but I like it enough and I love the energy of the crowd. Plus Eddie and I have been doing this for years. It doesn’t even matter, you’re not coming with us so you might as well give up now,” you spoke, lifting your hand in a sarcastic wave goodbye.

“Good thing it’s not up to you then. It’s Eddie’s van. He gets to decide,” your head snapped in Eddie’s direction then. You glared at him and focused as hard as you could. When you were younger, you and Eddie were convinced that you’d be able to communicate with each other telepathically if you tried hard enough. It never worked of course, but it never hurt to try. Eddie understood you better than anyone. He became your number-one confidant since the day you met. Surely he could pick up on your brain waves begging him to bar Steve from your plans.

Eddie headed towards the band room at Hawkins Middle with his guitar case swinging in his hand. He was early, intending to warm up on his own before the rest of Corroded Coffin got there for band practice. Eddie flicked on the lights, expecting the room to be empty. But it wasn’t. You were there, in the corner of the room, tucked between some music stands. You’d been curled into a ball and looked up when the fluorescent lights came on, illuminating your hidden figure. There were tears streaked across your face after a particularly brutal day of taunts from Tommy and Steve. Eddie set his guitar down and moved towards you slowly.

“Are you okay?” he asked in a quiet voice, hesitantly approaching. You remained silent, rising from your spot on the ground and wiping away your tears with your sweater sleeve. “I’m Eddie,” he spoke again, extending his hand for you to shake when he got close enough. You told him your name but didn’t meet his hand with yours, not yet.

“But everyone calls me Baby,” your voice was hoarse from crying but Eddie heard you loud and clear. He was an eighth grader but even he’d heard about the poor sixth grader that the popular kids had been calling Baby. It had moved beyond just them though. All of your classmates, teachers, and neighbors had adopted the name for you.

“Well, I won’t call you that, not if you’re not comfortable with it,” Eddie reassured you. He had been victimized plenty by the popular kids. He understood what it felt like, which is why he was shocked when you shook your head. His hand fell back to his side.

“No, it’s ok. I’ve been telling people to call me Baby to help reclaim it, I guess. It took Marissa the librarian forever but she’s finally gotten used to it. My parents still slip up, but that’s to be expected,” you shrugged. What you didn’t tell Eddie was that it still hurt when the name spilled from Steve’s lips. You weren’t sure why it did. But the more you were called Baby by everyone else, the more desensitized you hoped to become to it.

“Reclaim the name?” Eddie asked, eyebrows furrowed. You nodded, suddenly unsure what the boy in front of you thought. “That’s pretty metal,” a smile stretched his lips and his hand shot back up between you, beckoning for yours to join it. “It’s nice to meet you, Baby.”

“You too, Eddie,” you mirrored his smile, finally placing your small hand in his. Eddie’s calloused fingers enclosed around the back of your palm and two became one. You were inseparable. Inseparable in everything except for the reoccurring nightmare scenario that kept popping up in your life. You’d been dragged in early on, being one of the last people to see Barb before she went missing. You’d caught a glimpse of her through your window, sitting on the diving board above Steve’s pool, when suddenly she was gone. You joined Jonathan and Nancy in their quest to find her and kill the thing that took her. It sucked to keep Eddie out of that part of your life, but it was for his own good. Or at least it was until this past spring when Chrissy Cunningham became Vecna’s first victim right before the poor boy’s eyes. Then you told him everything. Your two worlds fully merged, and you and Eddie became totally and fully inseparable.

Your glare bore into Eddie’s and you thought you had gotten through to him. You were wrong.

“Alright Harrington, hop in. Quickly though, I don’t want to miss the opening act,” Eddie conceded, turning to face his gaze towards the road ahead. He could feel you burning holes into him with your eyes. You rolled the window up as Steve opened the van's back door.

“We’re so working on the telepathy thing again. Evidently, you’re in desperate need of a refresher,” you grumbled and Eddie chuckled at how mad you were at the addition of Steve to your plans. Steve closed the van door, lounging in one of the bean bags Eddie kept in the back. After what felt like the longest ride of being tossed around the back of Eddie’s van, Steve was never more thankful to see The Hideout come into view. The three of you filed out of the van as the sound of metal music filtered through the bar’s closed doors. Much to Eddie’s dismay the opener had already started their set. It smelled like cheap beer and cigarette smoke, causing Steve to wrinkle his nose.

“Go get us some drinks from the bar. Baby and I will get us a spot up near the front,” Eddie handed Steve a few dollar bills, enough to cover both your drink and his own. You and Steve might hate each other, but you’d been around each other in enough alcohol-fueled group settings to know each other’s drink orders. Steve beelined towards the bar, yelling over the music to order your Dirty Shirley with extra cherries, Eddie’s Rum and Coke, and his own Long Island iced tea.

He spotted you and Eddie pushing through the crowd. You were in front of Eddie, his forearm thrown across the front of your shoulders to keep you close. The two of you stopped not far from the stage. You leaned up to say something in Eddie’s ear, your back flush with his chest, and Steve felt a rush of jealousy run through him. Eddie had told him countless times that the two of you were just friends. That the kisses he’d once shared with you while high were just meaningless, drug-fueled, pecks on the lips. That was a lie of course, but Eddie definitely wasn’t going to tell Steve about the way you moaned against his lips until the two of you sobered up enough to feel embarrassed and swore to never speak of it again. Sometimes Steve needed to be lied to about certain things, mainly so Eddie wasn’t on the receiving end of Steve’s right hook.

The bartender placed the drinks in front of Steve in exchange for the wad of cash slapped on the counter. Steve grabbed all three glasses and began his trek through the tightly packed crowd. He’d gotten really good at holding a bunch of stuff in his hands at once during his brief stint at Scoops. Steve made it up to you and Eddie, passing the drinks to each of you. The three of you watched the opening band’s set, dancing as much as you could with drinks in your hands and a packed crowd.

By the time the opener’s set was over you had sipped enough of your drink to expose one of the cherries in your glass. Steve couldn’t help the way his mouth gaped as he watched you fish the cherry out with your finger, popping the morsel in your mouth and pulling it from the stem with your teeth. Eddie eyed the boy next to him, amused not only by Steve’s aroused reaction to such a simple thing but also by your complete obliviousness to said reaction. Despite the lack of music coming from the stage as you waited for the headlining band to come on, Eddie still had to shout over the buzz of the crowd.

“Show Stevie the thing,” Eddie gestured towards the cherry stem between your fingers. You shook your head in protest, but Eddie gave you his best puppy dog eyes and you were instantly beat. You rolled your eyes, placed the cherry stem on your tongue, and closed your lips. Eddie brought his arm up, glancing back and forth between you and his watch. Steve was baffled by the coordinated performance that the two of you were putting on in front of him. After a few seconds, your mouth popped back open. You plucked the cherry stem from between your teeth and held it up for Steve to see.

“Seven seconds! That might be your personal best,” Eddie exclaimed while Steve looked closely at the stem. It was tied in a knot. He took it from between your fingers and was about to ask how you did it when the band came on stage. Steve’s hand trailed down to his side, tucking the tied cherry stem into his pocket. He wasn’t sure why, but throwing it away felt wrong for some reason.

The band was really good, especially the lead singer. He was only a few years older than you and he had gorgeous, blonde hair that flowed down to his shoulders. Steve had scoffed when the singer winked at you during their set, but you couldn’t hear the sound over the music. The three of you had a surprisingly good time together, although it's pretty hard to fight with such loud music blaring throughout the room. Eddie and Steve were tasked with finding a table after the band left the stage and you got stuck with grabbing everyone new drinks.

“That was actually really fun. How often do you guys do this?” Steve asked, his pants getting stuck to cheap faux leather as he slid into a booth opposite Eddie.

“Once every month or so. It depends on which bands are playing,” Steve was listening to Eddie or at least he was at first. His eyes had been scanning the bar, trying to find you. When he finally did, his expression hardened. You leaned with your elbow against the bar, waiting for the bartender to come back with the drinks, but you weren’t alone. The lead singer of the headlining band was beside you. He was smiling at you, and even worse for Steve, you were smiling back. Eddie noticed the change in Steve’s demeanor, the jealousy that now filled the hazel of his eyes. He tracked Steve’s gaze across the crowded bar, landing on you.

Eddie was impressed. He’d seen you bag your fair share of hot guys after a show at The Hideout, but never had you managed to get with the lead singer of the headlining band. Steve, on the other hand, was not impressed. He was livid. It didn’t help that the lead singer had just placed his hands on your hips, pulling you flush against him as he leaned in close to whisper something in your ear. Steve quickly slid out of the booth, stomping his way through the crowd of people, heading towards you. Eddie winced, knowing he should chase after the boy, but slightly curious to see what would happen if he didn’t. Steve pushed through the bodies surrounding him, stopping just in front of where you stood against the bar.

“What's taking you so long with the drinks?” He called out and your head shot up at the sound of his voice. The smile that had grown on your lips quickly faded at the sight of Steve. The singer, Corey, looked up from where he had just started to kiss your neck. He didn’t move his hands from your hips despite Steve’s pointed glances.

“Hey man, you’re kind of interrupting something right now. If you want a drink then ask the bartender or whatever,” Corey moved to face you again, but Steve wasn’t done.

“Hey man,” Steve mocked Corey’s words. “You need to take your hands off of her right now,” your brow furrowed in anger while Corey filled with confusion.

“Sorry dude, didn’t realize she was your girl,” Corey assumed based on Steve’s comment and began to move his hands, but you stopped him.

“I’m not, I swear. I barely even know that guy,” Steve scoffed at that and you shot him a glare. Corey’s eyes flitted back and forth between you and Steve. He looked more confused than ever, almost painfully so.

“I’m way too high for this. You have her, man. It's not worth the fight,” Corey held up his hands in defense. Eddie had just worked his way through the sea of people in time to see Corey back away from you, scan the crowd, and head towards some pretty redhead across the room. Steve looked triumphant as he turned his gaze back to you. Eddie thought you looked like you were about to go ballistic. He’d never seen you that mad before in his entire life. You looked even angrier now than you had when Eddie purposefully put gum in your hair and it got stuck so badly that you had to give yourself bangs to get rid of it. Eddie was about two seconds from sprinting out of the building to save himself from being a witness to what was sure to be Steve’s murder when the bartender, Dave, called out from behind you.

“Here’s that Long Island for you, Baby,” you spun around, revealing the Rum and Coke and Dirty Shirley that sat on the counter behind you. You thanked Dave, giving him a good tip, before turning back to Steve. Because even in your fury, you could still be nice to the waitstaff. You picked up the Long Island, marched towards Steve, and slammed the drink directly into his chest.

“Since you wanted it so fucking bad,” you pushed past him, not caring about the way the liquid sloshed over the lip of the glass, coating your hand and Steve’s shirt. You moved towards the exit, slamming the door open into the moonlit darkness outside. Steve took a second to process what just happened. He placed the remainder of his drink back on the counter before following in your path. Eddie groaned, grabbing his now abandoned drink from the bar and downing it. He grabbed your drink from beside his, knowing you’d need it when this was over, and followed Steve. You had made it to Eddie’s van and tugged on the door handle, cursing the long-haired boy for actually locking it for once.

“What the hell was that?” Steve called out from across the parking lot with his arms held wide. He was stalking towards you at a furious pace. You were so pissed that you didn’t even notice your feet dragging you forward to meet him in the middle.

“Where the fuck do you get off?” you asked in response instead of answering his question. Steve stopped when the tips of his shoes touched yours, scrunched faces mere inches from each other. “First you invite yourself along to Eddie and I’s thing and then you ruin my chances with the very hot lead singer of the band. You did that for what, huh? Shits and giggles? I don’t give a shit who you are Harrington, that’s too fucking far,” you yelled, rage boiling beneath your hot skin.

“He wasn’t that hot,” Steve scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes widened. Eddie, who had just made it out to the parking lot, was surprised there wasn’t steam shooting out of your ears at this point.

“Is that the only thing you fucking heard from what I just said?” you brought your hands to your forehead in exasperation. “You’re such an asshole! I thought it would end when we graduated. Like you’d grow up a bit after graduation day. Hell, Robin said you’d matured, changed, and left the King Steve shtick behind. Eddie is one of your best friends now, the boy you taunted for years. So what is it about me, huh? Why are you suddenly too golden-hearted to bully everyone else but you never stopped fucking with me?” you had gotten close to Steve, not that you noticed through your tunneled vision of anger. Your heavy breaths fanned across Steve’s lips as you awaited his response.

“I-” Steve opened his mouth to respond and then quickly shut it. He didn’t know. Well maybe he did know, somewhere deep down, but it wasn’t something he could say to you now. Not in The Hideout’s parking lot where a crowd had started growing around you. Steve stepped back, creating the space between you that you desperately lacked at the moment.

“That’s what I thought,” you stepped back too, turning to walk towards Eddie. You quickly stopped, facing Steve once more. “Do me a favor, find some other girl to lurk around for a while. It's bad enough that you live next door. I really don’t need you following me wherever I go like some fucking creep,” you spun on your heels again, grabbing the drink from Eddie’s outstretched hand and throwing it back like it was fruit juice.

Eddie unlocked the van and you slid inside, slamming the door behind you. Eddie’s eyes met Steve’s with a grimace. Eddie looked at you in the van and then back to Steve. Steve got the message; Eddie couldn’t take you both home together. Maybe Steve was the one with telepathy instead. Eddie’s remorseful eyes searched Steve from across the lot. Steve conceded, gesturing for Eddie to take you. He was the one that fucked up anyway. If anything he deserved to be the one that had to call a cab. Eddie shot Steve a tight-lipped smile before hopping into his van and driving off. Steve watched the van’s taillights as Eddie rolled through a stop sign, speeding off into the night.

The light in your room was off when the cab finally dropped Steve off at home. He wasn’t surprised, expecting that you’d be at Eddie's trailer, erasing the night from your thoughts with a shared joint. Steve trudged up the stairs, opening and closing his door softly behind him so he didn’t wake his parents. They’d be gone for another business trip in the morning, leaving one less thing for him to worry about tomorrow. Steve’s window was still open from earlier, allowing the cool night air to seep in. He laid back on his bed, thoughts racing in the silence. And that’s when he heard it. A soft sob, then a sniffle. A deep breath, then another sob.

Steve sat up, his gaze aimed in the direction of the sound. His eyes landed on you, sitting on the floor of your darkened room with your back against your bed. Your window was cracked open, the way you normally kept it at night, allowing the birds to wake you with their songs in the morning. Steve stood, moving towards the window. You couldn’t see him from this angle, not that you would have been able to regardless with the tears clouding your vision. Steve frowned. An ache in his chest, the same one he’d felt whenever he heard you cry, flourished within him. He wanted to comfort you. To wrap an arm around you and let cry into his chest. To tell you it would be okay and ask who’s ass he needed to kick. But he couldn’t. You weren’t friends. You hated him. And it’s not like he could kick his own ass.

He didn’t realize, didn’t even feel it, but a tear slipped down his cheek, matching the flood that crowded yours. Steve lifted his hands to rest on the window, leaning against it as his brows furrowed over the broken look on your face. He pushed down, shutting the window softly, locking it, and closing the curtains. He couldn’t listen to you cry anymore. He remembered what you said, and he didn’t want to linger. The tear rolled off Steve’s chin, drowning a little unsuspecting green soldier on the window sill below. Steve moved away from the window and laid back on his bed. He felt around his pants pocket and fished out the knotted cherry stem. Steve’s eyes roamed over it for too long before he set it aside on his nightstand and closed his eyes. He couldn't sleep that night, no matter how hard tried. In the quiet dark of his room, Steve swore he could still hear your muffled cries.

Drunk under a street light

Black and white flickered from the TV screen, illuminating the dark room that you lounged in. You were lazing on the couch, mindlessly picking at the bowl of popcorn in your lap. The movie playing across the room did nothing to pull your unfocused stare from the coffee table in front of you. It wasn’t until you received a light kick to the thigh that you could finally shifted your eyes away.

“Okay, ouch,” you glared at Robin who was lying across the couch beside you, feet practically draped across your lap. She sat up, digging her hand into the bowl of popcorn. Her perfume scent lingered in the air around you even after she pulled back. It was sweet and light like she had just finished baking a batch of sugar cookies.

“You’ve been begging me to watch Casablanca with you for months and you’re not even paying attention to it now that I actually am,” she lifted her hand towards the screen before bringing her handful of popcorn to her lips. It's true. You had been dying to get someone to watch Casablanca with you for ages. Eddie watched it once and then refused to do it again after he ended up crying at the ending. Rick Blaine’s selfless act of giving up his one true love to give her a better life brought tears to the cold-hearted boy’s eyes. He made you promise not to tell anyone, especially Dustin.

“Sorry Rob, I’ve just got a lot on my mind,” you apologized, trying your best to pay attention to the movie again. You’d been zoned out for the entire first half of the movie, not that it mattered. You knew exactly what was happening on screen, given that you’d seen the movie a million times. It got to a point where Steve started keeping a copy under the counter at Family Video so there was always one available when you came in.

“Are you thinking about Steve?” Robin asked, her voice overpowering Ingrid Bergman’s as Ilsa confessed why she left Rick alone in Paris. Your head snapped towards the girl beside you and you could see the faint smirk growing on her lips.

“Why would I be thinking about Steve?” you answered her question with your own. The smirk fell from her lips then and she rolled her eyes. Robin sat up, pressing pause on the remote.

“Because he was totally jealous and caused some huge blowout fight between the two of you. And when I say huge I mean huge. It’s been over a week and you still won’t even acknowledge that he exists,” Robin explained, turning to face you better. You sighed and faced her too. You tried to avoid talking about Steve with Robin. Ever since they became friends it seemed too weird to talk shit about him in front of her.

“First of all, Steve definitely wasn’t jealous. He’s just a menace that loves to torment me,” Robin snorted a laugh but didn’t interrupt, allowing you to continue. “Second, Steve and I aren’t friends so me not talking to him for a week really isn’t that big of a deal,” Robin shrugged at that, seeing your point. “And third, how the hell do you know about all of this?” a guilty look spread across Robin’s face and you quickly realized the answer to your question. “Eddie’s got a big mouth,” Robin nodded in agreement at your words.

“I would’ve figured it out regardless. Steve’s been moping around for days. He’s really beating himself up over the whole thing,” you chuckled and Robin shot you a confused glare.

“What? I find it hard to believe that Steve Harrington even remotely cares about anything that has to do with me. Well unless it has to do with making my life a living hell,” you leaned back again, digging your hand into the popcorn bowl once more. Robin just stared at you, obviously baffled by something.

“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe somewhere in Steve’s caveman brain all this ‘torment’ is actually his way of expressing that he likes you?” Robin asked and repositioned the blanket that covered her lap. You stopped mid-chew, considering Robin’s words. You swallowed hard, sitting up and placing the popcorn bowl down on the couch between you.

“So what, Steve pulls my pigtails on the playground and it’s all okay just because he likes me? That’s such a toxic ideology, Rob. Not only that, but the suggestion that Steve actually likes me is insane. I mean have you heard the worm story?” you felt defensive, as if you were being attacked even though you weren't. You couldn’t understand why your heart wouldn’t stop racing at the thought of Steve liking you.

“Of course, I’ve heard the goddamn worm story,” Robin threw her hands in the air, nearly knocking over the popcorn in the process. “And I didn’t say that it was a healthy way of expressing his feelings. It just might be the only way he knows how. It’s not like his parents are great role models in teaching him about love and stuff,” a quiet fell over the room while your head raced at Robin’s words. You’d been so wrapped up in your feud with Steve that you hadn’t taken the time to consider his life outside of you.

You knew Steve’s parents were pretty absent based on the lack of cars in the driveway. And it was well known across town that Mr. Harrington was an asshole, no need to grow up next door to figure that out. Steve adored his dad when he was younger, and talked about how he wanted to be just like him. But you had heard the fights that seeped through the open windows in the years that followed. The disappointment that filled Mr. Harrington’s face when he entered Steve’s bedroom and saw the movie posters lining the walls. You wondered then what Steve’s parents thought of his decision to forgo college. Whether they argued with his choice, fought with him to take a chance to change his future, or if they just accepted it, not expecting much else from their disappointing son.

“I hadn’t thought about that,” Robin studied your face as you spoke. You looked lost, like you were questioning your past with Steve. After a moment the hint of a smile graced your lips and Robin furrowed her brow. “Still doesn’t mean he likes me,” you quirked as Robin sat up, grabbing another handful of popcorn.

“Oh whatever,” she launched her fistful of popcorn at you, hitting your face with the popped kernels before they fell to your lap. You retaliated, throwing popcorn back at her. The popcorn fight quickly ended when Robin picked up the bowl, dumping the rest of its contents over your head. The two of you fell into a fit of laughter while you tried, and failed, to pick the popcorn kernels from your hair. Eventually, you gave up, resting your head on Robin’s shoulder, the crunch of the popcorn sounding off as you did. Her shoulder was bony, uncomfortably stabbing your cheek with each delicate press against it, but you didn’t mind. Neither of you was very touchy-feely with each other, though you were never sure why, so it was nice to have a rare moment of intimacy. It granted you a deeper understanding of one another and a peak into the mysterious ways that each of your brains worked.

“Go to a party with me tonight?” Robin asked softly, not quite ready to leave the comfortable quiet just yet. You kept your head still on her shoulder and closed your eyes, inhaling sharply.

“Since when do you actively attend parties?” you questioned and Robin’s shoulder shook beneath you as she let out a gentle laugh. It was a comforting sound, like waves at the beach or rain on the pavement. That’s what Robin was to you. A comfort. Sure, Eddie was your best friend and you’d known him longer, but Robin understood you in a way that he didn’t. She controlled your chaos and balanced it with ease and truth. Robin matched your energy, knew what was best for you, and made you feel heard.

“Since Vickie asked me to go,” Robin winced out the words, anticipating your shift away from her side. Just as Robin thought, you lifted your head, turning to face her.

“So you’re not inviting me to go to a party, you’re inviting me to Third Wheel all night?” you raised your brow, eyes pouring into the girl beside you. Robin winced, shrinking into her spot on the couch. “Alright, I’ll go. Got nothing better to do anyway,” Robin cheered triumphantly at your concession, standing to go to your room and start getting ready together. You stopped her, gesturing to the popcorn that littered the couch and floor. She groaned, reluctantly helping you clean up the mess she made.

You’d walked to the party, arriving after everything was already in full swing. The sticky air reeked of weed and cheap booze as you pushed your way through the front door. It was sweltering inside the house. Sweaty bodies pressed themselves closely together on the dance floor, sipping on whatever deadly concoction resided in the punch bowl. Robin made a beeline for Vickie as soon as she walked through the door. There were familiar faces, people you knew from high school and whatnot, but no one you particularly fancied talking to. That is until you saw a mop of brown curls approaching with a black lunch box in his hands.

“I didn’t know you were gonna be here,” you called out over the boombox that was blaring music throughout the room. Eddie wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you to walk along with him. He guided you to the kitchen, stopping in front of a countertop littered with booze. You weighed your drink options, eventually pouring some vodka and Sprite into a solo cup, disappointed at the lack of cherry grenadine. You held up a bottle of rum pointed in Eddie’s direction, but he shook his head.

“Strictly business tonight sweetheart,” Eddie patted the lunchbox in his hands. You nodded in understanding, bringing your cup to your lips. “Where’s Buckley?” he asked, suddenly noticing the missing girl that he was sure dragged you here. You didn’t even have to speak, just pointing your finger to where Robin danced with Vickie across the room. Her hair was already a mess and her cheeks were flushed bright pink. You were about to say something else, keep your conversation with Eddie going, when he received a tap on his shoulder. It was some jock looking to make a deal. Eddie gave your hand a quick squeeze in place of goodbye and led the guy to the back of the house.

So there you were, standing alone in a crowded kitchen, regretting your decision to come in the first place. If only Nancy or Jonathan were there to keep you company, too bad they were both off at their respective colleges. Hell, you might even take Steve’s companionship at this point, because the longer you leaned against this countertop, the more boxed in you felt. What you didn’t know was that Steve was there. He thought it would be a good way to get his mind off your fight, but as he stood in the corner of this too-hot house, sipping a lukewarm beer, and listening to his old basketball teammate drone on and on about how they should’ve won the championship game their senior year, Steve realized he was wrong.

It especially didn’t help when his eyes scanned the room and somehow landed on you. You were alone, searching the room, presumably for a familiar face, when he spotted you. Luckily for Steve, you remained oblivious to his watchful gaze, giving him some time to study you since he felt like he hadn’t been able to in ages. He considered going over to you, to keep you company, but before he could even take a step, someone else approached you first. Your face dropped to a scowl at the sight of the freckled boy who now stood in front of you.

“What’s wrong Baby? Not happy to see me?” Tommy asked, a devilish grin hiding his lips. Steve was rooted to the spot, unable to move. He wanted to march over to you, drag you away from the douchebag before you, but he couldn’t will his legs to trudge across the congested room. He was never good at standing up for you, especially not to Tommy.

“Is anyone ever happy to see you?” you asked, crossing your arms and keeping a close grip on your cup. Tommy looked you up and down, hungry eyes boring into your skin. Suddenly you wished you brought a sweater to cover your bare shoulders. Steve still watched you from afar, his stomach turning at the desire that lingered in Tommy’s expression.

“There are plenty of girls around here that love when I show up,” Tommy grinned, leaning in closer. He reminded you of a shark with his teeth bared, waiting for a lowly seal to stumble into his pathway. “I could show you why if you come upstairs with me,” his lips came dangerously close to your ear, muffling the music that rattled the room.

“I’ll pass,” you grimaced at his offer. Tommy’s grin faltered and you brought your cup to your lips with a shrug, trying not to look too smug at your denial of his advances. That must have been what set Tommy over the edge. He reached up, slapping the cup from your hand, ignoring the liquid that splashed over you both. His face leaned in close as his arms caged you against the counter.

“Fuck you,” he spat, his face close to yours. “You’re just some weirdo bitch anyway,” you were scared at that point, terrified even, but you remained calm. Showing your fear would be the worst thing to do. Steve’s heart raced in his chest as he watched Tommy corner you. He took a step forward, moving in your direction.

“A weirdo bitch that won’t fuck you,” you fired back at Tommy and his face turned red with fury. Maybe poking the bear wasn’t a good idea. Suddenly someone knocked Tommy to the side, freeing you from him. You looked up, seeing a flash of red hair and someone in a striped shirt. Vickie and Robin.

“Woah man, we were spinning around and kinda lost control. Didn’t even see you there,” Robin leaned down to where Tommy now sat on the floor. She shot you a wink when he wasn’t looking. Vickie offered him a hand, but he brushed her off, standing on his own. He looked around, catching the glances of some of the partygoers, and stomped off, too embarrassed to continue trying to pursue you. Steve had made it about halfway through the crowded living room when Robin and Vickie took down Tommy in some sort of weird spin attack. He stood there now, watching as they checked over you. “You alright?” Robin asked you while Vickie inspected you for any bruises or blemishes from Tommy.

“Yeah, I’m all good. Think I’m just gonna go actually,” you looked down at your shirt, taking inventory of how damp it was from your spilled drink.

“We’ll go with you,” Vickie spoke up, taking hold of your arm as if she would guide you out. You shook your head, sliding her hand down to yours and giving it a gentle squeeze before letting go.

“No, you guys stay and have fun. I’m gonna try and hitch a ride. I’ve gotta know someone around here that’s planning on leaving soon,” you had no intentions of actually getting a ride from someone. But you knew Robin would never let you go if she knew you were going to walk home alone and you just needed to get out of there. You would ask Eddie, but you knew he needed the money he’d make from selling tonight so you didn’t want to bother him.

“Okay,” Robin nodded, granting you permission to leave. You gave her and Vickie a two-finger salute and made your way to the door. “No rides home from anyone on the basketball team. Past, present, or future. I swear all of those guys are creeps,” Robin called after you, turning a few heads as she did. You chuckled, continuing on to the door.

Steve still stood in the living room, watching the three of you closely. His eyes followed you as you trekked through the crowd to the door. Once you finally made it outside, his gaze shifted back to Robin only to find that she was already looking at him. She motioned with her head to the door, encouraging him to follow after you. So he did. Steve threw away his half-drunk beer and burst through the door. You were already halfway down the block when he got in his car and pulled up next to you.

It was cold outside, especially for early September, a chill lacing the breeze with each gust. It definitely didn’t help that your shirt was still soaked through. You saw the headlights of a car approaching behind you, brushing it off as you shivered and pulled your arms close. It took you a moment to realize that the car hadn’t passed you yet. You turned your head, suddenly facing a maroon BMW with its windows rolled down. A groan escaped your lips, but you still bent down to peer through the window. Steve’s car came to a stop, a smile gracing his lips at the sight of your exasperated face.

“You stalking me now, Harrington?” Steve let out a chuckle and a gust of wind picked up, making you shiver again.

“You wish. Come on, get in and I’ll drive us home,” he studied your face, searching for a sign that you’d agree. He couldn’t find one, your body unmoving from your spot on the sidewalk.

“I’m perfectly capable of walking. Plus Robin said no rides from anyone on the basketball team,” you shot him a sly smirk and stood up straight, continuing your walk through the neighborhood. You’d expected Steve to drive off then, leaving you to walk in peace. But he didn’t, his car followed alongside you. “What are you doing?” you asked, stopping again to see Steve through the passenger window.

“If you won’t let me drive you home, then I’ll just drive next to you,” Steve shrugged, looking up at you.

“What if I cut through someone’s backyard?” you asked and Steve shrugged again, a smirk dancing on his lips.

“Then some people are gonna be really pissed to see tire tracks on their lawn,” he replied and you almost wanted to laugh at his persistence, entertained by Steve’s unwillingness to let you be alone. His smile faltered then. “You and I both know the kind of shit that lurks around Hawkins at night,” any amusement from before had slipped away. None of you mentioned the Upside Down much now, not after finally defeating Vecna. It was final, the battle that ended the war, destroying the Upside Down for good. You couldn’t help the lingering fear that you’d missed something, that one day it would all return. And here, on the sidewalk after some lame party, you realized that Steve shared that fear too.

“Ok,” you said simply, shocking Steve as you pulled on the passenger door handle and slid into the seat next to him. He waited until you buckled up before rolling up the windows and driving off. It was quiet in the car, the lingering tension of all the unspoken words swirling in the air. Steve heard the sound of your teeth chattering and your hands brushing the goosebumps on your arms. He quickly reached into the back, grabbed an old sweatshirt that sat there, and handed it to you. Normally you would’ve rejected it, your pride too inflated to accept help from Steve in any form. But it was cold, your shirt was wet, and your conversation from earlier with Robin still lingered in the forefront of your mind.

Steve didn’t expect you to take his sweatshirt so easily, replacing his hand on the wheel when he felt the weight of it lift from his palm. You pulled his sweatshirt on, reveling in the warmth it provided. It smelled like hairspray and lavender, a hint of boy mixed with the two. It smelled like Steve. Silence settled over the two of you again and Steve couldn’t stand it anymore.

“I’m sorry,” the words burst from within him, head turning to look at you for a moment. You looked calm and objective like Steve hadn’t even spoken in the first place. “The whole thing at The Hideout was so stupid. I don’t even know why I did that,” you looked at him then, expression still neutral. “I guess I just feel like I need to protect you and I took it too far,” your brow scrunched at that, finally giving Steve an insight into your thoughts.

“Protect me? You and Tommy tormented me for years,” anger rose in your throat. You hadn’t meant to get mad, still considering what Robin said, but Steve’s twisted claim brought it out of you in the way that only he could.

“I know, I know. And I’m sorry about that too. I just- I just wanted to fit in, to be cool. But I realize now that none of that shit ever mattered. I mean, how important was popularity when the one person that I actually cared about couldn’t stand me?” Steve spoke and the tension in your face dropped. The one person Steve cared about? Was he talking about you? You took a deep breath, thinking over your words when the car came to a stop in front of your driveway.

“Steve,” you spoke softly, almost a whisper, like the breeze rattling through the trees. “I can’t just forget about all of it because you’ve abruptly changed. I can’t just decide to be your friend all of a sudden. You hurt me, for a long time. Hell, you still do,” Steve winced, wanting to turn back time to when you were five, when nothing bad had happened to you yet and things were much simpler.

“I know,” Steve’s head sunk, his chest aching with each passing second.

“I just,” you stopped, jumbled thoughts bouncing around your head. “I just think it’s easier when we keep ourselves apart. It doesn’t hurt as much that way,” the streetlights above reflected the swelling tears in your eyes as they threatened to spill. You hadn’t meant to cry, and you surely didn’t want to. Steve understood your sentiments. Being around you only reminded him of how it could’ve been if he hadn’t tried so hard to fit in. If he hadn’t screwed it all up.

“But maybe we could try. Try to be friends,” the words surprised Steve as they left his lips. They came out far bolder than he felt capable of being at the moment. “Group settings, public places. Baby steps, you know?” Steve tried to stop the hope building in his chest, too worried about the damage it would do if you said no. But you didn’t.

“Maybe,” you said in a whisper, a tear finally tracking down your cheek. A soft smile slipped over Steve’s lips, the same one he wore around you as a kid. The same smile you saw before he traipsed over the hill, leaving you on the sidewalk with the worms. Your lips twitched upwards for a second before you pulled the door handle and exited the car.

The feeling of hope now took full form, blossoming in Steve’s chest, filling every crack and crevice between his ribs. He watched you walk up to your front door, still wearing his sweatshirt, slipping inside your house with a small wave in Steve’s direction. Steve put the car back in gear, pulling into his driveway next door. He shut the car off and leaned back in his seat, still unable to wipe the smile from his face. Maybe. He could work with maybe.

You drew stars around my scars, but now I’m bleeding

Eddie’s van was a mess. Your legs brushed against fast food wrappers while cigarette butts covered the floor, crunching under your sneakers. It smelled like weed and sweat with a hint of the black ice air freshener that you forced him to buy a while ago. It was early afternoon, the sun still high in the sky as Eddie made a right turn out of your neighborhood.

“Why are we doing this again?” you asked, shifting to look at Eddie. He had his hair pulled up into a messy bun that you insisted on doing for him. It was a rare and rather unwelcome hairstyle for the metalhead, but it was well warranted for the occasion.

“Because Buckley wants to learn how to play basketball and Harrington asked for my help,” Eddie shrugged, approaching a stop sign and making a left. You rolled your eyes, letting out a huff of air from your chest.

“But you hate basketball,” you groaned, wondering why Robin would even want to learn how to play in the first place.

“Yes, but they’re my friends and they asked for my help, so my help they shall receive,” normally you would have laughed at Eddie’s goofiness, but the thought of being around Steve loomed over your head. You still hadn’t seen each other since the party, just glimpses through bedroom windows. It was hard to say where either of you stood with each other. Becoming friends seemed like an impossible feat on your part, too stuck in the past to care about the potential future.

“Okay, so why am I included in this? Steve didn’t ask for my help,” you pulled your feet from the trash-covered floor, finally sick enough of how the garbage touched your ankles. Your feet rested on the seat and you hugged your knees close to your chest. Your head sat atop them, watching Eddie closely with narrow eyes, trying to figure out if this was some scheme to get you near Steve.

“Each team needs two players, Baby. Kind of hard to play a two v. two with only three people,” you let out another groan and Eddie smirked in response, knowing you couldn’t refute him anymore. He made a sharp right turn, pulling up to the outdoor basketball courts that sat behind the high school. Eddie turned off the engine and tapped your knee. It was his way of telling you to get out of the car and lock your door behind you. The two of you began your walk over and could just barely make out three figures through the holes in the chain link fence that surrounded the basketball courts.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear athletic shorts before. I might pass out at the sight of your legs,” you said to Eddie as the two of you walked through the gate, entering the basketball court. You barely had time to accentuate your comment with a smirk before Eddie leaned in close.

“Reel it in, Baby. Best not to flirt with me in front of Harrington. Wouldn’t want to risk him getting jealous again,” your face grew hot at Eddie’s comment, the thought of a jealous Steve stirring something deep in the pit of your stomach, something like desire. Eddie donned a stupid smile as you approached Robin, Steve, and Lucas in the middle of the court.

“What’s up with you?” Steve asked, noticing your flustered appearance. Your eyes darted back over to Eddie, who continued to wear the same shit-eating grin as before.

“Nothing, just ready to play some basketball,” you deflected and Steve nodded, covering the basic rules of the game. Lucas was acting as the referee for the match, making it feel much more intense than it should have. That’s probably why you took it so seriously, covering Robin as if your life depended on it. Steve won the tip-off, sending the ball back to Robin. She caught it and began to dribble towards the basket. She looked like a baby deer trying to walk for the first time as she made her way up the court, nearly smacking the ball away from herself in the process. You used it to your advantage, managing to grab the ball from her, dribbling up the opposite side of the court, and scoring a basket from the three-point line. Steve retaliated after that, shooting his own shot and tying the score. It continued like that for a bit, Eddie and Robin eventually gave up on trying to cover the both of you, which was how you ended up in front of Steve, desperately attempting to block his shot.

“Worried you’re gonna miss?” you taunted as Steve dribbled in front of you, your back to the basket. A cocky smirk overtook his lips then, bringing the ball up to shoot. It would’ve gone in too, if you hadn’t smacked it out of the air, stealing it for yourself. You sprinted down the court towards the other basket with Steve hot on your trail. He managed to get in front of you and you turned your back towards him, protecting the ball in the meantime before you could get a clear shot. “Come on, Harrington. I thought you were the team captain back in high school. Figured you’d be better than this,” you knew it was dangerous, teasing him in such a flirty way, but it was all in good fun, right?

“Oh, I’ll show you, Baby,” Steve practically whispered into your ear, his chest pressing against your back. If you weren’t so focused on beating Steve you would’ve felt the goosebumps that littered your spine. Steve’s arms came up to circle you, so you moved, pivoting to take your shot and knocking Steve out of the way in the process. He lost his balance as the ball left your fingertips. You felt Steve’s hands find your torso as you watched the ball tip into the basket, dragging you down with him as he fell. Your shirt had ridden up when you made your shot, causing Steve’s fingers to brush against your bare skin. It felt like you were falling in slow motion until you finally landed hard on top of Steve, your back flush to his chest.

Pain shot up your sides as Steve’s fingernails scraped against the semi-healed scars that resided there. You got up quickly, not taking the time to register your pain, lifting your shirt again to see that the wounds had broken open on both sides. It took Steve a second to get up after hitting the ground so hard. The others rushed toward the two of you, but your eyes landed on Steve, his gaze already honed in on the fresh blood pooling on your skin. His hands came down to his own torso, feeling the scarred flesh that matched yours.

After everything was said and done, the dust settled and Vecna gone for good, there was only the matter of medical care to worry about. Eddie was mostly unscathed, with a few bat bites here and there, but nothing some disinfectant and band-aids couldn’t fix. Lucas was sure to have a swollen eye, cuts, and bruises after fighting Jason. Max was delivered to the hospital where the doctors said she would make a full recovery but might need a pair of glasses. Which just left you and Steve. You had jumped in right after him at Lover’s Lake, fighting your way through the water as he was tugged deeper below. When you popped out of the gate mere seconds after him, the bats swarmed you too. It wasn’t until Nancy appeared, oar in hand, that you managed to escape the feeling of the bat’s teeth sinking into your skin.

The bats had gotten you good, doing just as much damage to you as they had to Steve. When the fight was over and everyone was safely right-side-up, you refused to get medical care, worried that you’d be poked and prodded while Owens’ doctors tried to study your wounds. Steve refused too, unwilling to be treated unless you were first, not that you knew that.

Robin and Eddie insisted on staying with the two of you to make sure nothing bad happened in the middle of the night. But you said no, pointing out that Eddie needed to stay hidden until his name was cleared. Not to mention that you just wanted to be alone after the strenuousness of the previous few days. You assured Robin and Eddie that your parents would take care of you if anything happened, same with Steve. They reluctantly agreed, dropping you and Steve off in front of your house, leaving the two of you to go your separate ways.

You were about to trudge up the lawn and enter your house, thinking about finally being able to sleep, when you caught sight of Steve’s empty driveway. You hadn’t even thought about the fact that his parents were out of town, and he hadn’t mentioned it to Eddie or Robin either. Steve had already started walking towards his house when you called his name.

“You didn’t say that your parents weren’t home,” you jogged up to him, wincing at the pain that shot up your side. Steve shrugged, also looking desperate for a decent night of sleep. Steve turned around again, continuing towards his house, leaving you on his lawn. You started following him until he saw you from the corner of his eye and stopped again.

“What are you doing?” the words sounded twisted as they fell from his lips, the same venom you expected from the boy who bullied you for years. Your face grew hot with anger, suddenly wondering if you should just turn back around and retreat to your house.

“You can’t be alone tonight, not when you’re in such bad shape,” you crossed your arms over your chest, trying to come across firmly in an attempt to discourage Steve from arguing with you. He simply raised a brow in question.

“I think I’ll be fine,” he moved to turn on his heel again, to scale his front steps and enter the cold empty house before him. But your arm shot out, landing on his arm and stopping him in his tracks. Steve froze, mind racing at the feel of your skin against his. He couldn’t remember the last time you touched him, given that you usually kept your distance whenever he was near.

“Steve, I can’t leave you alone in good conscience. If you bleed out and die, that’s on me,” you spoke the words quietly, almost sounding embarrassed to have to say them at all. Steve studied you, eyes roaming over your face. The walls you kept up around him seemingly fell in that moment as he caught sight of the worry hidden deep in your gaze. He nodded then, giving in and leading you to his front door, trying not to look visibly upset when your hand no longer held him.

The house was just as you remembered from when you were a kid. Clean and organized, everything in its designated place. It always frightened you back then, a house so pristine that it didn’t look like anyone could possibly live there. You followed Steve as he ascended the staircase, both of you winded and clutching your wounds when you got to the top. Steve showered in the bathroom attached to his room, offering you a towel and clean clothes before sending you off to the guest bathroom.

The hot water pulsed down on you, blood and grime swirling around the drain at your feet. The water seared your skin with each drop, but you didn’t mind, hoping the sweltering heat would rid you of the horrors you’d witnessed within the past few days. The sight of Eddie being tackled to the ground by a swarm of bats. The sound of Steve’s screams as his flesh was torn open. Your own wails of pain as the bats did the same to you a few feet away. Max’s broken limbs and unfocused eyes as Lucas held her in his arms on the way to the hospital.

You turned the shower off, unwilling to let your thoughts run rampant anymore. You were careful when drying off, avoiding your wounds to keep blood from soiling Mrs. Harrington’s stark white towels. She’d be sure to have a fit at the sight of a stain. You dressed quickly, pulling Steve’s old shirt and baggy sweatpants on. There wasn’t a first aid kit in the guest bathroom, so you headed back to Steve’s room, holding your shirt away from your body to avoid getting blood on it. You knocked gently on Steve’s bedroom door and it only took a moment for him to open it for you.

His hair was wet, a towel draped over his bare shoulders. He was shirtless, sweatpants hanging low on his hips as water dripped down his hairy chest. Your eyes lingered there for a moment before trailing to the bandages wrapped around his torso. Steve’s eyes followed yours, landing on the gauze tied tightly to his skin.

“I seem to get the shit beat out of me anytime something like this happens,” he used his towel to gently pat his hair dry. “I’ve gotten pretty good at patching myself up,” Steve shrugged, hanging the towel on the back of his bathroom door.

“Can you do mine?” you asked quietly, lifting your shirt to reveal your wounds. Steve’s gaze flickered down to them, blood from each gash threatening to spill down your sides. His breath caught in his chest at the sight of your exposed skin. It was dumb, just your stomach on display, but it took Steve a second to contain himself. It was nothing he hadn’t seen before, memories of your bare skin seen on the few occasions that you forgot to close your curtains before changing. Steve always looked away, but the flashes of your skin were seared into his brain. He nodded in response to your question, going into the bathroom with you trailing behind him. He told you to sit on the counter, pulling out the first aid kit from the cabinet next to your dangling legs. Steve wiped each wound with an antiseptic wipe, cleaning the area and sopping up the thin blood that surrounded it. His hands were gentle and soft like he was afraid to touch you, to break you.

“Hold this,” Steve placed a gauze pad on one of the wounds, his fingers guiding your hand to rest over it, holding it in place. He ignored the tingle in his fingers as his skin brushed yours, moving on to place another pad over the other blemish. Your hand came up automatically, holding it in place without Steve having to tell you again. He unraveled the rest of the gauze, slowly wrapping it around your waist, softly brushing your hands away when he no longer needed you to hold the pads in place. Steve circled it around you a few times, finally securing the gauze tightly in place with a swift knot.

“Thank you, Steve,” you whispered, his face close to yours. Steve hummed in response, letting his eyes drift to your lips for a moment too long before pulling himself away and packing up the first aid kit. He returned it to the cabinet, his shoulder brushing your leg in the process, sending chills down his spine.

Steve stood then, opening the linen closet by the door, searching for a blanket to give you in case the guest room got too cold. You were tired, to the point of exhaustion really, longing to lay your head against a soft pillow. But fear came creeping in, the demons in your closet, or the demogorgons rather, holding your mind hostage. The fears controlled you then, in combination with the exhaustion, speaking words from your lips that you otherwise wouldn’t have even considered muttering.

“Can I sleep in here? With you?” when you were first dropped off all you could think about was finally being alone, but as you sat there now, Steve's clothes covering your skin, you realized that wasn’t what you wanted at all. Steve froze, and his quest to find a blanket quickly halted. He looked up at you, taking in the heavy bags under your eyes, the weight of the past few days slumping your shoulders forward. He knew under normal circumstances that you never would have asked, and probably couldn’t have even stood being in the same room as him for more than two minutes, but these weren’t normal circumstances. And he would take what he could get.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll sleep on the floor. You can take the bed,” Steve turned to the linen closet once more, searching for a blanket for himself this time. He heard you slide off the counter, thinking you’d brush past him and get into his bed, but you didn’t. You stopped next to him, pulling Steve’s focus to you.

“You can’t sleep on the floor. What if you bleed out? I’d never know if you were down there. At least not until the morning,” Steve placed his hands on your shoulders, ceasing your seemingly endless babble. Your eyes were wide and bloodshot, staring back at Steve with a worried brow.

“Okay,” he agreed, trying to calm himself, the jitters of being so close to you creeping in. “We’ll both sleep in my bed,” his hands fell to his sides and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Steve left the bathroom, turning out the light as he did. You slid into Steve’s bed, the sheets pulled up around you as Steve switched off his lamp. The bed dipped beside you from Steve’s weight. You went to roll over, trying to face him, but you were met with pain, gasping and clutching your side with a hiss. Steve shot up, trying to help you but only injuring himself with his sharp movement in the process. You couldn’t help but laugh as you both settled down onto your backs.

“Aren’t we a pair,” you mumbled and Steve chuckled beside you. The room was dark, filled with the scent of a burned-out candle, Steve's lavender-scented shampoo, dirty laundry, and something else inherently Steve. Your eyes watched the ceiling, lying in silence next to the boy you supposedly hated. He rustled around beside you, trying to get comfortable. In a normal situation, you would’ve snapped at him for moving the bed so much, but right now you found it amusing. After another minute of restless movement, he let out a groan.

“I normally sleep on my stomach, but this shit makes it impossible,” annoyance laced his tone as he referred to the bat bites lining the front of his stomach. Your head turned in his direction, silently taking in his side profile, his sharp nose, and long eyelashes. He almost looked normal if you ignored the angry ring of red flesh lining his neck.

“I’m a side sleeper,” you spoke softly, Steve’s head turning towards your voice. For some reason, he liked hearing more about you, even if it was just something as silly as how you normally slept. “I’m in the same boat as you, Harrington,” the wounds on your sides making it impossible to lay that way. Steve could just make out the shadows of your face in the dim light. The curve of your lips, the arch of your brow, the tip of your nose. He thought you looked beautiful. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop them. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop the bats from getting you,” your lip quivered then, tears welling in your eyes as you lived up to your crybaby nickname. You weren’t sure where the burst of emotion came from, chalking it up to the exhaustion that weighed heavily upon you. Steve lifted his head, his hand coming up to brush away your tears.

“Are you kidding? You jumped in right after me. If you hadn’t been there I would’ve been dead in less than a minute. You distracted some of them. I would’ve been bat food if not for you. If anyone’s sorry it should be me,” you shook your head and Steve’s hand came down to rest on your cheek, thumb rubbing circles against it gently as he spoke. Why were you letting him hold you like this? Why did it feel so comforting? You sniffled, trying to stop your tears from falling. “Baby, you saved me. I need you to know that,” you nodded at his reassurance, too choked up still to use your words. Your eyes were heavy by then, the lack of sleep weighing in on you even more.

“I'm glad I went through that gate then,” you mumbled, words barely audible through your sleep-slurred speech. With the last of your energy, you moved, rolling onto your stomach, the wounds on your sides untouched by the mattress. Steve followed your lead, moving onto his side, and facing you. His arm draped across you, careful to avoid your wounds, and a soft sigh left your lips as your eyes slowly closed. Your breath evened out soon after, slowed inhales and exhales taking over. Steve’s fingers found the bulge of the cotton pads on your side, tracing across them gently, a comforting gesture that you’d never know about. He wished he had superpowers, the ability to heal you with just a touch. But he didn’t, so he’d do this instead, easing your pain with a soft touch while you slept.

When you woke in the morning you had the overwhelming urge to pee. You slid gently from Steve’s embrace, somehow managing to get even closer to him during the night. You tiptoed to the bathroom, not wanting to wake the sleeping boy. The large mirror covering the wall taunted you when you finished, urging you to take a peek beneath the gauze. You caved, hands gently pushing the gauze to the side. The bleeding had stopped and the gashes already started looking better. It was curious how well they had cleared up overnight, but you just shrugged, used to the strangeness of the supernatural by now. You climbed back into bed with Steve after putting the bandages back into place. You wanted another minute of peace, a moment, maybe the last of its kind, when you and Steve didn’t hurt each other. When Steve Harrington was still the boy you knew, not the one you’d grown to loathe.

“Shit Steve, seriously?” You winced as the blood began to trickle down your skin. “It’s a basketball game, not tackle football,” you lost your balance for a moment, Lucas’ arms shooting up to steady you. Steve stood speechless, incapable of fathoming how his hands did so much harm to you. The skin had never quite healed right, you suppose, more fragile than most other places on your body. “Eddie, can you take me home,” you asked, trying to keep your shirt from getting wet with blood, knowing your shorts were a lost cause with scarlet droplets already pooling at the waistband. Eddie nodded quickly, rushing to your side as if he had to carry you to the van.

“I can take you. I mean, I live next door. I’ll clean you up,” Steve suddenly was able to find words, knocked out of his stupor. He moved towards you then, but you raised your hand, stopping him in his tracks.

“I asked Eddie,” you spoke with a glare, already walking toward the court’s exit. Eddie shot Steve a sympathetic look before following behind you. Robin lifted her hand to comfortingly pat Steve’s back while his mouth fell slightly agape. You got into the van with a wince and Eddie closed the door for you. Robin, Steve, and Lucas were filing off the court then. Steve’s head was down while he unlocked his car. Eddie turned the keys in the ignition, started the van, and began to pull out of the lot.

It was an accident, you knew that, so why did it frustrate you so much? The same hands that once held yours as children now were the ones to lacerate your skin. Maybe it was the ache you buried deep inside, the one you’d never been able to alleviate, the pain Steve perpetuated for years. The one you hadn’t been able to forgive him for no matter how hard you tried, no matter how much you wanted to. He left you, tossed you aside like you were some old sweater discarded beneath his bed, like you were nothing. It seemed never-ending like you’d never escape his harmful grasp. You wanted to be five again when the world seemed so much kinder and you loved Steve Harrington. Maybe the latter was still true, maybe that’s why he scarred you more than the others ever had.

As Eddie drove towards the exit, your gaze drifted up, landing on Steve. Robin and Lucas had already gotten into Steve’s car, but he stood outside of it, arms resting on the crook between the car’s roof and the door. His eyes followed you through the van window as Eddie sped away. A strange look overtook Steve’s face, one you couldn’t quite read. It was the look of a boy that never wanted to hurt you, but somehow constantly did.

I knew you’d haunt all of my what-ifs

The sun hid behind the clouds, peaks of light streaming through the cracks in the sky. Tires rolled against the pavement, making their way across town. The radio was low in the car, some Fleetwood Mac song lulling softly through the air. Your car was old, covered in dents and scratches, with windows that only opened halfway and an engine that grumbled with each press to the gas pedal. Even though your parents offered to help you buy a new one, a more reliable form of transportation, you refused. This car held too many memories in its stained cloth seats. Your first kiss in the backseat, jam sessions with Eddie, driving Will, Mike, Dustin, and Lucas to the science fair where they finally got first place again. You couldn’t let it go, not yet, not while it still had some life in it. You knew how much it sucked to be abandoned.

The tires screeched and squealed as you turned into the Family Video parking lot. You pulled into a space near the front of the store, dim headlights shutting off when you pulled the keys from the ignition. Robin had told you she was working today, but as you looked around you were unable to find her bike in its normal place on the bike rack. You did however spot a maroon BMW parked near the back of the lot. That lying bitch. A sigh fell from your lips, eyes closing at the thought of seeing Steve. It had been two days since the basketball incident and you had been sure to keep your distance. Steve’s sorry eyes peeked through bedroom windows and only made you feel guilty for getting mad at him in the first place. But you couldn’t stall this any longer, the movies were due today and you’d be pissed if you got another late fee. So you grabbed the tapes from the passenger seat, holding them close to your chest as you closed your car door and walked through the entrance to Family Video.

Steve stood hunched over the counter, the same way he normally did when the store was empty like it was now. His eyes were glued to the magazine that rested on the counter before him. It was a Cosmopolitan. He was ashamed to admit that he was searching its pages for tips on how to get back in your good graces. So far he was coming up short, but he still skimmed through it anyway. The bell rang above the door, signaling to Steve that a customer had entered.

“Welcome to Family Video. My name’s Steve. Let me know if you need help with anything,” the words spilled from Steve’s lips automatically, his gaze still glued to the magazine. It took Steve a moment to register the silence he received in response, brushing it off as another inconsiderate customer. At least that’s what he thought until a stack of tapes slammed down on the counter beside him. Steve looked up then, seeing you standing across from him with raised eyebrows. Your eyes trailed down to Steve’s magazine, and his gaze followed yours. In less than a second, Steve had slid the magazine off the counter, quickly tossing behind him. You simply blinked, an amused smile blossoming on your lips as the magazine crashed to the floor.

“I want to return some tapes,” you couldn’t help the smirk that remained as you spoke, pushing the stack of video tapes in front of the boy. Steve nodded, picking up the first tape and scanning it back into the system. “What were you reading there, Harrington?” he could hear your smile through your amused tone, refusing to meet your eyes as he continued to scan your tapes.

“Sports Illustrated,” Steve lied, ignoring the way your lips pressed together to contain your smile. You couldn’t contain your laughter anymore, clutching your sides as giggles poured from your throat. Your laughter was contagious, causing a few chuckles to spring out of Steve too.

“Whatever you say, Harrington,” you composed yourself, finally ceasing your giggles, but the smile remained taut on your lips. Steve handed over your receipt for the returned tapes, expecting you to leave after clutching it in your hands, but you didn’t. Your feet drifted over to the movie-lined aisles and Steve couldn’t help but follow, tripping over his discarded magazine in the process.

Eventually, you stopped in front of a shelf, Steve watched the way you studied your options. When one finally caught your attention you leaned up, standing on your tippy toes to grab it. Your shirt rode up in the process, revealing the large bandages that covered the wounds on your sides. Steve’s heart dropped, the memories of the basketball game, the whole reason he had been reading that stupid magazine in the first place, flooded his mind. Just as your fingers brushed the front of the tape, seconds from getting ahold of it, Steve’s hand lifted it instead, offering it to you.

“Thanks,” you said sincerely, only then noticing the kicked puppy look on Steve’s face. You opened your mouth to speak again, but Steve beat you to it.

“I’m so sorry about the other day. I really didn’t mean to hurt you. I just got carried away,” Steve’s gaze drifted to the ground, missing the pity that swelled in your eyes. “I’m sorry this shit keeps happening. It’s just that when I’m with you I can’t seem to function like a normal person,” he lifted his head then, catching a glimpse of emotion in your expression. Regret? Or is it that underlying anger you saved just for him?

“It’s fine, Steve,” you assured him, but the boy wasn’t comforted. He opened his mouth to apologize again, but you didn’t let him. “Dude, I’m sick of hearing you apologize. It's fine. If anything I should apologize for being such a bitch about it. It was an accident, let’s move on,” Steve eyed you, unsure whether you were messing with him or not. But you were serious, hoping that the old Steve still lived within the boy in front of you, and that one day you could make amends. Maybe this was the first step, and if that meant forgiving him for something he accidentally did, then so be it. “Check me out?” you asked, holding the tape up for Steve to see. He nodded, going back behind the counter. He reached down, grabbing a copy of Casablanca from under the counter and placing it next to the movie you had just picked out, but you shook your head.

“You don’t want it?” Steve asked, suddenly wondering if you had been kidnapped and replaced by a clone. That was the only logical explanation for your behavioral change towards both him and your favorite movie.

“Kinda bored of complicated romances at the moment. Maybe another day,” Steve slid the movie back under the counter, keeping it there in case you changed your mind. “I heard this one was good though,” you gesture to the copy of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off that you had picked out.

“Yeah, Robin said that she thinks I’d like it. Haven’t had a chance to watch it yet though,” Steve scanned the tape, fixing his gaze on the computer, where he typed in the code for his employee discount. He did it every time you came in during his shift, thinking he was sly and that you’d never noticed, but you caught on a while ago. It came to light after a rousing argument with Robin about how she had been overcharging you.

You pulled a few crumpled bills from your purse, handing them over to Steve. He waited, knowing you were now going to dig around your purse until you found some coins, never willing to pay with anything other than exact change. After a few seconds, you pulled the coins out, two quarters, a dime, and three pennies. You placed them gently in Steve’s extended hand. His palm tingled with the brush of your fingers, quickly sorting the coins to alleviate the sensation. He handed you the bag with your tape when he finished putting your change away. With a small smile, you turned, heading back towards the door you entered through. Just as you were about to place your hand on the large handle and push it open, you stopped. Steve, who had been watching as you walked away, felt that dreaded sense of hope again, the one he felt so often when you were near.

“What time do you get done here?” Steve’s eyebrows raised, taken aback by your question. His mouth opened, fumbling for words as he checked his watch.

“Thirty-two minutes. Why?” you chuckled at his sudden nervousness. Maybe he really had come a long way from his days as King Steve. King Steve never would’ve struggled like this when talking to a girl.

“Do you want to watch this with me?” you held up the bag that housed the Ferris Bueller VHS, extending an olive branch. Steve’s response was immediate like he didn’t even need to think about it.

“Yes,” it was a simple answer, but you just nodded in return, a shy smile creasing the corners of your mouth. “We can watch it at my place. My TV is bigger,” Steve smirked, regaining his charming and flirty tone, the one you’d gotten so familiar with as a result of all the teasing. You rolled your eyes at the innuendo, smile still cresting your lips, and pushed your way through the exit.

“Whatever you say, Harrington,” you called out behind you, repeating the same words from earlier. Steve laughed, watching your retreating figure, the sway of your hips, and the swell of your ass. He looked at his watch again, still displaying the same time as when he had checked just moments before. Steve groaned into his hands. This was going to be the longest thirty-two minutes of his life.

You were enveloped in a book, sitting on your window bench when a light tap sounded off next to you. Thinking it was just the old house creaking or something, you ignored it, eyes scanning the next page. That’s when it happened again, and again, and again. You pulled back your curtains and flung open the window only to narrowly avoid getting smacked in the face by a pebble.

“Shit, sorry,” Steve swore, his cheeks turning red with guilt and embarrassment. He was standing below your window, pebbles spilling out of his hand. A week or two ago, hell maybe even a few days ago, you would’ve gone off on him, screaming about nearly hurting you and potentially damaging your window. But now, you just smiled, taking in the sight of the boy next door. Only Steve Harrington could make a romantic gesture nearly turn into a trip to the hospital. “I tried to leave you a message, but your curtains were closed,” you glanced over to his window, spotting the piece of loose leaf taped to it with the words ‘come over?’ scrawled in black ink.

“Give me two seconds,” you pulled your head back inside, closing the window behind you. As you did, a few of the army men on your window sill fell on their sides, no longer facing the window across the gap between two houses. Snagging the video tape from your desk, you ran down the steps, stopping in front of the mirror hung up in the hallway. Why did you suddenly care how your hair looked around Steve? Brushing off the thought, you continued, opening the front door to be met by the boy next door.

“Ready?” he asked and you nodded, following as he turned towards his house. You walked closely behind him, catching a whiff of hairspray, lavender, and cologne. Steve led you to the rec room in the basement, which housed the largest television in the Harrington residence. You handed him the tape and he slid it into the VCR before settling on the couch, a good two feet from where you sat. Neither of you mentioned the distance, just watching the movie and laughing at Ferris’ goofy antics.

As the movie progressed a chill ran through you, goosebumps prickling your skin. The Harrington’s seemingly liked to keep their basement ice cold. Steve noticed and pulled down the blanket that was draped over the back of the couch. He laid it on his lap, extending the end of it towards you. You accepted his silent invitation, closing the gap and sitting close with the blanket wrapped around the two of you. The rest of the movie was spent that way, thighs brushing against one another when either of you moved.

When the credits finally ended, with Ferris Bueller in his bathrobe disappearing from the screen one last time, you felt at ease. You hadn’t expected to feel so comfortable with Steve, but it was almost a relief that you managed to get through a whole movie without wanting to kill him.

“That was so good. Robin was totally right, I loved it. I'm basically Ferris Bueller so it makes sense I guess,” Steve shrugged and you couldn’t hold back the laugh that bloomed from your lips at his comment. Steve turned to look at you, a brow arched in confusion at your humor. “What?” he asked bluntly, a hint of amusement on his face.

“You would think that you’re Ferris,” you spoke, looking smug. Steve's lips stretched into a daring grin, curiosity getting the best of him.

“Okay, if I’m not Ferris then who am I?” Steve leaned in close and you rolled your eyes, shoving his shoulder.

“It’s so obvious that you’re Cameron. Sure, the people that don’t know you that well might think you’re Ferris, but I know you Steve Harrington, and you’re Cameron fully and completely,” your grin widened with Steve’s look of exasperation. His hand flew to his chest in mock offense.

“What the hell makes me Cameron?” his words still had the air of joviality behind them despite his faux wounded front. The corner of your lips faltered then, suddenly reluctant to divulge more about your characterization of the boy before you. You didn’t want to tell him what he already knew, that he and Cameron shared a strained relationship with their fathers, both all too afraid of disappointing the men who raised them. That up until recently both boys took all the shit that their fathers gave them, too frightened to stand up to them. You didn’t want to say any of it, which was fine because Steve already knew. From the second Cameron appeared on the screen, the voice in the back of Steve’s head pointed out each similarity that they shared. Silence settled over the two of you, smiles fading in the quiet room.

“If it makes you feel better,” you began, voice small and fingers fidgeting on your lap. Steve wanted to reach over and grab them, encase your fingers with his, but he restrained himself. “Cameron was my favorite character in the movie,” you nodded towards the TV screen that now reflected a blank blue shadow over the pair of you. Steve observed your bashful demeanor, thinking about how cute you looked when you got all shy.

“You would definitely be Jeanie,” Steve asserted, breaking through the uncomfortable quiet. Your jaw dropped at the comparison and the smile returned to Steve’s lips at your reaction.

“Ferris’s bitchy sister?” Steve nodded and you shoved him again. He righted himself, continuing to make his point.

“I mean, come on, it’s so obvious,” Steve repeated your words from earlier and you shook your head. “You’re both a little crazy in a hot way. Not to mention you both go for bad boys,” you glared at Steve, but he could tell you weren’t actually mad.

“I’m not into bad boys, asshole,” you defended and Steve’s smirk grew, his rebuttal already concocted in his head.

“Oh really? So it wasn’t you that hooked up with Billy Hargrove at Tina’s Halloween party two years ago?” your jaw dropped again, and Steve’s snickering filled the air. He reached over, pressing your chin up to close your mouth. You brushed his hand off of you in confusion.

“How the hell do you know about that?” you asked, confusion and curiosity coursing through your thoughts. “Did Eddie tell you? I swear to god I’m never telling him anything ever again,” you crossed your arms, waiting for Steve to talk.

“Hargrove used to brag about it to me and try to rub it in my face,” Steve informed you and your face wrinkled, filled with questions. “I guess he thought that it would make me mad since you and I used to be friends or whatever,” Steve shrugged, no longer smiling. He watched you, unsure how you would react to his explanation.

“Did it?” you questioned, and Steve shrugged again. He didn’t want to tell you that it did, that it took every fiber of his being to restrain himself from punching the blond boy’s stupid face.

“A little,” Steve lied and another silence fell over the room, but it wasn’t as tense this time. Steve waited a moment before speaking again, watching the way you avoided his gaze. “Why’d you even hook up with him? I thought you hated him,” Steve’s voice was quiet, unwilling to break through the low noise barrier that settled between you.

“You stole my copy of Pride and Prejudice,” you let out a sigh, gaze shifting to your hands that rested in your lap again. Steve’s brow furrowed, confused about the correlation between his question and your response. “It was the copy my grandma gave me when I was 11. I had notes in the margins on just about every page. You took it from my bag in homeroom the day before the party and refused to give it back,” Steve knew what you were talking about. He couldn’t remember why he took it, but he knew that he still had it, tucked away in his closet, in a spot that only he could find.

“But what does that have to do with Billy?” Steve still didn’t understand. Your hands ran over your face as you let out a sigh.

“You hated him and he hated you. I figured the enemy of my enemy was my friend, which wasn’t true by the way. I was super pissed about the book and a little tipsy. I needed to blow off some steam, so one thing led to another and we hooked up in his car after the party,” you were ashamed of it, regret filling you the second it was over. “I didn’t know that he was such a douchebag when it happened. If I had known how badly he treated Max and Lucas then I never would’ve done it,” you explained, still unable to meet Steve’s gaze, embarrassed by your past. Steve’s hand extended, tilting your chin with his finger, allowing your eyes to finally meet his.

“I shouldn't have taken your book, Baby,” Steve whispered and you gave him a soft smile in return. The nickname rang through the air and reverberated off the walls. Hearing it didn’t bother you for some reason. For the first time in years, the word didn’t sting as it fell from Steve’s lips. Maybe the tide finally turned, the war nearly over. It gave you a sense of courage, making you brave enough to let your next question out in the open.

“When Billy bragged about it, what did he say?” Steve was taken aback, wondering why you would want to know. Billy’s words were far from nice, if anything they were disrespectful and an invasion of privacy. But the way you looked at Steve now told him that you genuinely wanted to know, needed to know.

“It was really depraved stuff, like how your body felt against him,” Steve started and you nodded, motioning with your hands for him to continue. “He said you would start to breathe heavily when he kissed your neck. That you did this thing with your tongue when you kissed that felt insanely good. He said you moaned his name like it was made just for you to say it. That your thighs shook when you…” Steve trailed off, face flushed and unwilling to finish his sentence. He had started speaking slower with each sentence, despite the racing of his heart. The tension floated thick in the air, crowding the room and making it way too hot for the blanket draped over your lap. Steve wasn’t sure when his hand had dropped to your lap, brushing between your legs from over the blanket.

Your eyes were glued to Steve’s, unaware of the distance that disappeared between you with each passing second. His breath mingled with yours, tingling against your skin. Your tongue darted out, bringing moisture to your dry lips. The heat between your thighs ached to be relieved, wishing Steve’s hand would travel higher up your thigh as his jeans tightened at the sight of your gaze alone. The blue from the TV screen that coated the room disappeared as your eyes fluttered shut. Both sets of lips were centimeters from meeting in the middle when the VCR popped out the tape, landing with a loud smack on the ground. Steve had leaned on the remote while moving closer toward you, accidentally pressing the eject button. He knew he needed to fix the VCR, worried about its tendency to spit out tapes rather than the slow half push it was supposed to do, but he’d put it off, too tired after a long day of work. You broke apart at the sound, creating more distance as you moved the blanket from your legs and scrambled back, Steve’s hand falling into the now empty space. Neither of you could look up at the other.

“I wish we stayed friends when we were in middle school,” Steve said after a long span of silence. He never wanted to be your enemy, never wanted to drive you into the arms of an undeserving man. Your eyes met then, his were glassy, which was something you hadn’t expected.

“Yeah, me too,” your voice was small but sure, words speaking nothing but the truth. You didn’t remind him why you weren’t, something you would’ve done a week ago. Instead, you sat in agreement, pondering how different your life would be.

“I wonder what would've changed,” he spoke. It was soft, almost a whisper, and you longed to be close to him again. To feel his words fan across your lips instead of the empty space beside you. “If I would’ve been friends with Tommy, if I would’ve dated Nancy, if we’d be off at a college somewhere instead of this shithole town,” Steve was louder now, melancholy mixed with underlying anger. Even if you were finally able to be friends now, Steve couldn’t help but think about the time he missed out on with you and all the other lingering what-ifs.

“We could still get out one day. Leave the teen angst and trauma behind,” you sounded normal again, reassuring to Steve’s overactive thoughts. “Maybe we could go together,” Steve’s heart leaped out of his chest at your words, but he reeled it back in. It was still new, being able to talk without words slicing into the other’s skin. You looked at him with anticipatory eyes, awaiting his response.

“Just give me the signal Baby and we can be out of here before sunrise,” Steve extended his hand, this was a deal to shake on, a long-term agreement that one day you’d run away together. You grinned, accepting his outstretched hand, wondering about where you’d go. Considering if you were in love with Steve Harrington, if you always had been. Dying to know if he was in love with you too.

A friend to all is a friend to none

Autumn had officially begun, a chill in the air that persuaded the orange leaves to tumble from the trees. It was your favorite time of year, though you couldn’t help the twinge of sadness that swelled in your heart at the thought of leaving the warm summer sun behind. Eddie insisted that you come to visit him at work, his desperation ringing out through the static of the phone. After a few minutes of groveling, you caved and agreed to go, which is how you ended up banished to the backseat of Steve’s car on the way to the record store on main street. Robin had called shotgun, but you didn’t mind, having the entire backseat to yourself and stretching out your legs. Steve’s car smelled like pine trees and leather, hairspray and cologne, as it rolled along the pavement.

Steve pulled up to a parking spot in front of the record store, placing his hand on the passenger seat headrest as he threw the car in reverse. He turned his head towards the car’s rear, watching carefully as he backed into a spot, shooting you a wink before he faced the front again. You couldn’t help the warmth that spread over your cheeks, feeling like a bumbling schoolgirl with a crush. Ever since your movie night, your almost kiss, things had been different with Steve. Sure, there was still some teasing and the typical dirty innuendos, but it didn’t sting the way it used to. It didn’t evolve into slammed windows and drawn curtains, loud arguments and bruised egos. Something new coursed through your veins, your heart beating just to hear the sound of his voice. It was scary, the rush of feelings that you’d seemingly repressed for years, hidden under what you thought was hate.

“You coming or what?” Robin leaned back into Steve’s car to face you. The thoughts of Steve had distracted you and you only now noticed that they had already exited the car. You followed suit, unbuckling and sliding across the seat to get out on Steve’s side. He greeted you with an arm slung around your shoulder, purposely messing up your hair in the process. You swatted at him, smoothing your hair back down as you walked through the store’s entrance together. Music wafted down from the speakers that littered the ceiling and you instantly knew that Eddie had picked out whatever metal song was playing. As if he could hear the mention of his name in your thoughts, Eddie appeared in front of you, grabbing ahold of your wrist and dragging you towards the front counter. Meanwhile, Robin and Steve headed towards the back, searching for some Abba vinyl that Steve had been wanting for ages. The absence of Steve’s arm around your shoulder left you with a chill, the tingle brought on by his touch subsiding, but you brushed it aside following the long-haired boy.

You went behind the counter with Eddie, hopping up to sit in the space between the cash register and the pile of records stacked to the left. It was a familiar spot for you, somewhere you’d sat a million times, much to Eddie’s manager’s dismay. In this spot, you’d talk about dates that you went on, someone from high school who got knocked up or married, a new song Eddie was working on, and your hatred for Steve Harrington. But this time was different. Eddie remained silent as you perched before him, crossing his arms over his chest and peering at you with knowing eyes. He came to stand in front of you, his stomach brushing against your knees. You glared at him in response, already knowing the words that were about to crest his lips.

“You and Harrington have been awfully close lately,” a smirk danced across his face, arms uncrossing, hands landing to rest on your knees. You narrowed your eyes, placing your hands behind you, and leaning back on them.

“We’re sort of friends now, I guess,” you shrugged and Eddie leaned in even closer, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead as if he was testing your temperature. You smacked his hand away, earning a yelp in response. The grin reappeared on Eddie’s lips as he shook his hand to alleviate the pain caused by your slap.

“Friends, huh?” you nodded as his question, eyeing Eddie for his next move. Someone entered the store, the chime of the bell over the door alerting the both of you. But the two of you didn’t flinch, didn’t even spare the new customer a glance, too enveloped in your weird standoff staring contest. Instead, Eddie called out his standard greeting, welcoming the person to Rad Records, as his eyes roamed over you, searching for an unspecified answer. “Just friends, nothing more?” Eddie finally continued, needing more evidence to make his case, to find the answer to his unasked question. And you gave it to him, eyes darting away from his and legs beginning to bounce. Eddie’s jaw dropped, a gasp seeping from the open space between his lips.

“Shut the fuck up, Edward,” you rushed out, clamping your hand over his slack jaw. Eddie’s wide eyes trailed from you to Steve and back. His lips moved behind your hand, trying to speak, but you shushed him, refusing to let go until he calmed down. You cringed at the swipe of his tongue against your palm, but still held on tight. After a few seconds, Eddie stopped and you took it as a sign to set him free. Your hand retracted, falling limply onto your lap, where you wiped his saliva onto your jeans.

“Holy shit. You like him. You actually, consciously, like him,” Eddie whisper-yelled at you and it took a considerable amount of effort to not spontaneously combust at his words. It’s one thing to finally admit it to yourself, it’s another to hear it spoken out loud. Still, you felt like there was a ritual you had to play along with, like you had to deny the accusation.

“I so do not,” you spoke stubbornly, but Eddie could hear the give in your voice, knowing the truth.

“You totally do. The fact that it’s taken you this long to realize is insane,” Robin spoke up from behind you, startling you with her sudden appearance. You looked beside her, expecting to see Steve, but he wasn’t there. You didn’t know whether to be sad or relieved by his absence from the conversation.

“Where is Steve anyway?” you shifted on the counter, making space for Robin to rest her elbows next to you. Robin nodded towards the back of the store. Steve’s figure was obscured by the towering displays that littered the room.

“Some guy that he knew from the basketball team came in and started talking to him. Steve called him Jumpy or something. I dipped out as soon as I could, so Steve’s stuck back there now,” you cringed at the name that fell from Robin’s lips. Jumpy was the dumbass nickname of Allen Peterson, some douchebag that was friends with Tommy.

“Ugh, he and Tommy once broke into the girl’s locker room during gym and stole my clothes. I had to walk around in my gym uniform for the rest of the day. It was humiliating,” a frown bloomed on your lips, one that was echoed by Eddie and Robin.

“I remember that. They somehow never got caught,” Eddie’s eyes trailed to the back of the store, still unable to spot Steve. “You want me to kick him out?” Eddie’s eyebrows raised in question, almost begging for the chance to kick someone out of the store. But you shook your head, tapping his shoulder so he’d move out of the way. He did, stepping to the side, allowing you to slide down from the glass counter.

“I want to see if he remembers me. Maybe mess with him a bit,” Eddie and Robin waved you off as you walked towards the back, the top of Steve’s perfectly styled hair coming into view as you got closer. You approached from behind Steve, not able to get a good view of his face. You were still hidden, questioning whether you should continue with your plan or not. Wondering if Allen would do something to upset you, tease you, and make you feel small. But Steve was there, and how could he hurt you when the boy you loved was standing by your side? Just as you were about to take a step out, you heard something, Allen’s voice.

“Dude, I can’t believe you’ve been hanging out with such losers,” Allen’s words elicited a soft scoff from your lips. He peaked in high school but here he was calling you a loser? You wished you could see Steve’s face, to know what was running through his mind, the witty comeback that was sure to leave his lips any second now. But it didn’t. All you heard was the smooth sound of his laugh dancing through the store.

“Come on, man. They’re not that bad,” you brushed off Steve’s weak, delayed defense. At least he stood up for you in some regard, that’s what matters.

“Nah man, that Baby chick is nuts. I remember how weird she was in high school, always crying over something. Sometimes I just wanted to bend her over and give her something to cry about, you know?” Allen mimed thrusting his hips as his words hung in the air. It made you feel dirty and violated, like he had already touched you in the way he said that he wanted to. The boy viewed you as an object, nothing more than something to be used to satisfy his needs. Your eyes bore into the back of Steve’s head, willing him to speak up on your behalf. To defend you, to protect you, to punch this asshole in the face. But Steve was never good at defending you and all he did was laugh again. That irritatingly coy laugh, the one that set off alarm bells whenever you heard it. The laugh that belonged to the reigning king, not the boy you loved.

“Oh yeah, totally. One good screw would straighten her right out,” at that moment you could’ve sworn that the entire town could hear your heart as it shattered. You weren’t really sure when you revealed yourself from your hiding spot behind the bookshelf, but your eyes locked with Allen’s, and his stupid smirk dropped. Steve tracked his gaze, spinning on his heels to see you, tears welling in the corners of your eyes, forehead creased, and red-hot anger coursing through you. You turned, moving as fast as you could towards the exit at the front of the store. Steve chased behind you, his hand catching your arm right after you passed through the door. Eddie and Robin looked alarmed at the sight of you both stopped before the store’s glass front.

“Let go of me,” you spoke hotly, cursing the strength of Steve’s grip. Steve’s eyes roamed over you, catching the flicker of hurt that flashed across your face before you restored it to its angry glare.

“I didn’t mean it. It’s just-” Steve began, but you quickly cut him off, still trying to wrangle your arm from his grasp.

“I don’t give a shit what you meant, Harrington. I thought you changed. I forgave you for all the shit you put me through. Guess I wrong to think you were capable of being a decent person,” Steve’s eyes watered at your words, hating himself for making you doubt him and how he feels for you.

“I have changed. I don’t know why I said that shit,” Steve pleaded, he wanted you to understand, to give him five minutes to explain himself. But Steve knew this was it, you’d already made your decision, it wouldn’t matter even if he got down on his knees and begged. He’d broken your trust, said shit he didn’t mean, and now he’d lost you again, the same way he did years before, the way he never wanted to again. Steve let go of your arm, giving you the freedom you asked for when you first left the record store with him in tow. Your arm felt numb, empty, without Steve’s hand there, and you cursed your stupid heart for not wanting him to let go.

“I guess old habits die hard, Harrington. Stay the fuck out of my life,” your words spat from deep within you, fire coating each syllable. Steve watched as you turned, making your way down the sidewalk and turning into an alleyway between two stores. Eddie and Robin burst through the record store’s entrance, ignoring the autumn chill that they were greeted with as they did. Steve wiped his eyes, glad to have tears clouding his vision because he was not sure he could stand to see his best friend's face as he recounted the past few minutes to her. Eddie looked to Steve, silently asking where you went, and Steve lifted his hand pointing in your direction. Eddie took off, turning the corner to the alley to find you slumped on the ground, knees to your chest and head in your hands. He approached you slowly, pulling you into him when he finally got close enough. Sobs racked your body, chest heaving against Eddie’s as he held you in a tight hug, knees resting on the cement below.

“I hate him, Eds. I fucking hate him,” Eddie nodded in understanding, stroking your hair and pulling it from where it stuck to your tear-stained cheeks. “I should’ve known he’d break my heart again. I should’ve known not to let myself fall in love with him,” your tears soaked Eddie’s shirt and he froze, stuck on the words that fell from your lips. Love. Sure, he’d known you liked Steve, but love was different. Love meant more hurt. It held more weight. It meant that you set aside the past and moved on. It meant you finally gave in to the feelings that gnawed at your heart and your brain each night. It meant that Steve really fucked up.

Chasing shadows in the grocery line

Steve’s car finally peeled away and flew down main street, signaling to Eddie that the coast was clear. He walked you back to the now barren record store, save for his co-worker Terry, who was in the back unpacking a new shipment. Eddie asked Terry to cover for him and when Terry saw your tear-stained cheeks and red puffy eyes, he agreed, no questions asked. So Eddie put you in the passenger seat of his van and sped off down the road. You didn’t ask where he was going when he passed the street that led to your house, already knowing where he was taking you.

Eddie’s van stopped abruptly in front of his trailer. Wayne’s car was gone, signaling that he’d already left for work, leaving the trailer empty. It was getting dark, gloomy clouds blocking the sun as the moon rose in the sky opposite it. The porch lights flickered on, illuminating the shadows of your face through the cracked windshield. You caught sight of Lucas’ bike through the back window. It was lying on its side outside of Max’s trailer, thrown in haste. Normally it would’ve made you laugh, elicit a joke about young lovebirds to fall from your lips, but right now you couldn’t even will the corners of your lips to curl into a faint smile.

Eddie opened your car door, gently lifting you by your waist and placing you on the ground. You followed him inside, trailing behind him like a lost, heartbroken puppy with nowhere else to go. He led you to his room, indicating for you to sit on his bed, so you did. Eddie placed a soft kiss on your forehead, the kind a mother gives her child, and lifted your arms. He disrobed you of your heavy knit sweater, your way of protecting yourself from the autumn winds that pierced the air, and replaced it with one of his Black Sabbath shirts. You unclipped your bra through the shirt, pulling it out of your sleeve before tossing it to the floor. The action always amazed Eddie, drawing a laugh from his lips, but this time he remained quiet, too concerned over you to pay attention to much else. Next, Eddie unlaced your shoes, pulling them from your feet. You shimmied from your pants after, throwing them across the room, uncaring where they landed.

With a shaky breath, you laid down, facing the wall, your back turned to Eddie. Eddie pulled off his leather jacket, shucked off his jeans, and moved towards the bed. The mattress dipped beside you, Eddie’s body now close to yours. He pulled the bed sheets up to cover you both before draping his arm across your torso. You relaxed into him a bit, fingers and legs intertwining with one another. It was a familiar position, one you and Eddie had shared a million times, but his comforting touch wasn’t working quite the same as it normally did. Not when your heart hurt this much.

Eddie wanted to ask what happened, pester you with questions, and uncover the truth, but he refrained, knowing you’d speak up when the time was right. His heart ached at the feel of your body shaking against his, small sobs springing from deep within your chest no matter how much you wanted them to stop. Eddie only held you tighter, his arms practically crushing your ribs as his own tears began to well in his eyes. You stayed like that for a while, long after the sun fully sank beneath the horizon, leaving the room in complete consuming darkness. The wind caused sapling branches to scrape against the window, becoming the only sound to fill the lingering silence. You stopped crying after a while, wishing you could sleep the pain away, but remaining unsuccessful in your attempts.

Finally, you gave up, shifting to face Eddie, your forehead pressed to his. Breath intermingling, comforting you, letting you know that, yes, your heart may be broken, but you were still alive. Eddie studied you, unsure whether he should be the first to speak or not, but you quickly quelled that thought when you opened your mouth.

“Do you think you’ll ever leave Hawkins?” your question threw Eddie off, his brows scrunching in confusion. It’s not what he expected you to say.

“Not unless the band takes off, and certainly not without Wayne,” Eddie had thought about it before, considered moving to a big city where the lights never dimmed and the gigs would never end. But as much as Hawkins may have hated him, he could never hate it in return. He’d get sick of the city noise and never be able to sleep, craving to hear the chirp of crickets and cicadas instead. So when you asked, he was sure of his answer. But he didn’t echo your question back to you, already knowing that your answer would be a resounding yes. It would be tough for you to leave everyone behind, but you longed for something different, somewhere new to help escape the past and finally look forward to the future. Eddie was lost in thought, still wondering why you asked that when you spoke again.

“He’s exactly who I thought he was,” it was a whisper, one that could easily be lost, left hanging in the air with no one around to hear it echo off the peeling walls. But Eddie heard it, he absorbed your words from the silent room, wanting to know more, so you continued. “I thought he was different now, but it turns out he’s still the same, too wrapped up in caring about what others think,” fresh tears sprang in your eyes, a sob tightening your throat as you spoke. “I’m tired of fighting against his undying need to be liked. I’m tired of losing against it every goddamn time. I’m done,” there was a finality to your tone, one that caused Eddie to lift his head from his pillow, a questioning look on his face.

“Sweetheart, do you want me to talk to him? Figure out what’s running through his head?” Eddie offered, but he knew the gesture would be wasted on you. Once you set your mind to it, it was done. But he wanted you to hear Steve out. He wanted you to find a way to reconcile your differences. For all the pain and confusion that Steve Harrington brought, he also filled you with joy and light. You’d been happier throughout the past few weeks than Eddie had ever seen you, illuminating rooms simply by entering them. Eddie didn’t want that to disappear, to be forever obscured by a compilation of closed curtains and avoidant gazes. But he was met with a furious shake of your head.

“No, Eds. I mean it. No more Steve,” Eddie nodded despite the voice in his head yelling at him to speak up and try to change your mind. It was no use. He rolled onto his back, one arm resting under his head, the other still laid across you. You shifted too, laying with your chest pressed to Eddie’s stomach, head resting just below his. “I wish it was you that I loved. It’d be much simpler that way,” you’re not sure why you said it, maybe the cloud that formed in your head from the day’s events expanded, spilling all of your hazy thoughts through your lips. It was a sad wish, an empty hurt with truth behind it. But Eddie understood, his own thoughts reflecting yours, the telepathy finally working in a way. He wanted to take away your pain in any way he could, but not like this. Not when your heart was beaten black and blue, longing for a simple ceasefire to mend your open wounds. Not when that same heart belonged to another, an echoed call through the woods waiting for the birds in the treetops to sing back with an affirmative answer. Eddie loved you, but not in the way the both of you currently wished for. An irrefutable loyalty that would consciously be limited to platonic fellowship, no romance lingering from either party in the way you held each other close.

“I’m sorry, Baby,” Eddie’s whisper slid through the strands of your hair, a soft kiss placed overtop of it. You’d grown quiet by then, breath evening out as you were finally granted your wish for sleep. Falling deep into a slumber where you were still five and Steve Harrington tucked flowers behind your ears as he whispered to you about love.

Days had passed, an endless stream of the same heartache and emptiness that blended each rise and fall of the sun together, making it difficult to distinguish one from the next. Robin called you probably a million times, but you refused to come to the phone. Your parents opted to unplug the phone from the wall for a few days, growing tired of the incessant ringing. You knew she just wanted to talk about Steve, but that was something you couldn’t quite handle yet. You’d only plugged the phone back in to call out of work, letting them know you had a nasty stomach bug, not caring if they believed you or not. The curtains in your room remained closed with the little army men on the window sill replaced in their defensive stance. To you, this was war.

On the fifth day of refusing to depart from beneath your bed sheets, your mom entered your room, messing with the knick-knacks that covered your dresser as she did. A custom D20 from Dustin, a kazoo Eddie gave you for your birthday one year joking about how you could be Corroded Coffin’s lead kazoo player, a mixtape Robin lent you ages ago, a new pack of colored pencils you’d been meaning to give to Will, and a flower that had been dried and pressed into a glittery bookmark, all littered your dresser’s surface. Your mom grabbed the bookmark, admiring the way the lavender flower retained its shape despite being flattened so many years ago. It was the same lavender that grew from the ground beneath your bedroom window, decorating the grass between the Harrington’s house and your own. You watched closely as she eyed the bookmark, curiosity flooding your thoughts.

“I remember making this with you,” she spoke softly, a gentle cadence meant to comfort you, and it sort of did. “You came running inside with the flower and insisted that we save it. You said it was too important to let die,” she sat on the edge of your bed, bookmark still glinting in the soft glow of the lamplight. You propped yourself up on your elbows, wondering where she was going with all of this. She handed you the bookmark then, and you took it, confused, examining it as if you’d never seen it before.

“I don’t remember that,” your voice was hoarse from crying. It didn’t help that you hadn’t properly spoken out loud in days, too congested with the bustling thoughts running laps around your mind.

“You were five. And if I remember correctly a certain boy had been the one to pick the flower for you,” you understood then, she was talking about Steve. Part of you felt betrayed, like your mother was providing aid for the enemy, but the other part of you wanted to know more, why she wanted to talk about this, especially now. “We always assumed the two of you would be friends, lovers even,” she wagged her eyebrows at you and the corners of your lips ticked up at the gesture. “So it was strange to see the distance that grew between you, the pain you caused each other. I’d always hoped you’d resolve your differences, and fall back into the same ease you had as kids, but I know it’s more complicated than that,” her hand reached up, brushing softly against your cheek. You hadn’t realized that you were crying until her fingers swiped over the fallen tears. “I love you, my Baby,” her words were a whisper, gentle lips pressed to your forehead. She patted your leg through your comforter, standing up as she did. On her way to the door, she stopped, turning back to look at you. “Maybe some fresh air might help. A trip to the store?” she suggested and for some reason you nodded, actually thinking that it would be nice to leave your bed for a bit. She smiled, making her way out of your room to grab the grocery list for you. As she rounded the corner, one foot out the door, she couldn’t help but notice the tight grip you kept on the bookmark in your hand. The flower within it that was always in bloom. Something that could never die.

You opted to go to the store alone, wanting to drive with the windows down and the music up, drowning out the overcrowded space in your head. It was nice to leave the house, to be in an open space with autumn in the air. The crisp leaves crunched under your tires as you pulled into the grocery parking lot. You were so concerned about making sure that you had the list your mom gave you that you completely missed the maroon BMW parked on the opposite end of the lot. Once you had the list, you grabbed a cart, its wheels squeaking loudly as you made your way down aisles, grabbing item after item off the shelves.

There was only one thing left on your list, a bag of tortilla chips, which was your dad’s favorite snack food for some odd reason. You almost chuckled to yourself seeing how his scratchy handwriting interrupted your mom’s pristine list. With a squeal of protest from the shopping cart’s wheels, you turned the corner, eyes roaming over the chip options in front of you. You finally found what you were looking for and stood up on your tiptoes, the top shelf being just a bit too high for you to reach. A warmth washed over you as someone leaned into your space, large hands retrieving the bag and offering it to you. Your breath stopped for a moment and you found yourself unable to move.

“I’m just gonna put these in here then,” Steve spoke softly, placing the chip bag into your cart when you froze. He looked tired, with dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. His hair was flat, almost greasy looking, lacking his usual abundance of hairspray and product. Steve watched you, the way you shrunk at the sight of him and he felt as though his heart had been torn from his chest. He never wanted to hurt you, to make you feel less than what you were. And to Steve, you were everything. Steve opened his mouth to speak, an apology sputtering from his lips, but the sight snapped you out of your stupor, suddenly springing to action.

“I told you to stop apologizing to me,” your voice was firm and cold, nothing like the ease it held back at Family Video the last time he tried to right his wrongs.

“Just let me explain, please,” he pleaded, eyes soft, a glimmer of familiarity in them. For a moment you almost let him, finding yourself more than willing to listen to the boy speak. You were reminded of the comfort you found in the sound of his voice recently, the swell it brought to your chest. But that vanished when you remembered the way he laughed when talking to Allen, his vile words leaving your glass heart shattered across the record store’s stained carpet. It felt like a slap to the face, a cut on your cheek, a crack in your rib. You meant what you said, you were done with him. The boy before you showed no growth. He was still the same boy who called you names, taunted you in the halls, stole your favorite book, and scared off the boys you liked.

“No,” it was stony and resolute, an end to the conversation. You pushed your cart away, leaving Steve behind, your shadow cascading over him as you did. You made your way to the register and Steve followed close behind. He got in line behind you, but he stayed quiet, unsure what to say. He only had two things in his basket, which made his checkout go by quickly. By the time he got out to the parking lot, you were still there, placing the hefty grocery bags into your trunk.

“Let me make it up to you,” Steve startled you, appearing at your side out of nowhere. “I swear I've changed, I promise. I care about you, so much,” you slammed your trunk closed, wheeling your cart back to where it belonged. Steve followed you, but you stayed silent, refusing to acknowledge his pleas. He stood in front of your car door then, blocking it so you couldn’t get in. “I don’t want to lose you again. Let me show you I care. Let me prove it,” he looked like he was on the verge of tears. Part of you wanted to reach out and hold his face in your hands. The other part wanted to hurt him more, make him feel what you felt. The latter won.

“You can’t prove shit to me, Harrington. I don’t believe it, any of it. You’re still the same stupid boy you were when we were 11, and I fucking hate you for it,” you spat and Steve’s face hardened. You wanted him to yell back at you, to prove that he felt something for you, something worth fighting for. But he didn’t. He simply stepped aside, a new slump in his posture as he let you go. His gaze followed the battered silhouette of your car as it drove off, a wisp of fallen leaves and Steve’s shredded heart trailing behind it.

When you got home you stormed inside, leaving the groceries in the car for your parents to unload. You fell back into your bed, resuming the same position you held before you went to the grocery store. It took some time, anger encapsulating your every fiber, but eventually, you fell asleep, putting the situation with Steve aside as you escaped to the peace of your dreams.

You awoke the next morning, groggy and sore. Rolling onto your back, you caught a glimpse of something from the corner of your eye, something that was out of place. Your body groaned as you arose, hesitant steps towards your desk, hands slowly lifting the object. It was a book, but not just any book. It was Pride and Prejudice, the copy that your grandmother gave you years ago, the one that was taken from you. You flipped through the pages, fingers tracing the words you’d penciled in on the margins. Stuck between its pages was a bookmark, your bookmark, with lavender and specks of glitter decorating it.

You sat back on your bed, wondering why the book was returned so suddenly and out of the blue. Your mom was the one to put it in your room, marking its pages with the bookmark, but Steve had been the one to take it years ago. Why did he keep it? Why give it back now? Was this the end? A bookend in your tumultuous relationship with the boy next door? A post-it note fell from between the book’s pages and you leaned down to grab it. Written in Steve’s messy scrawl was one word.

“Please.”

And you’d come back to me

The note was metaphorically stuck in your head, lingering like a bad dream that you couldn’t wake from. It didn’t help that it was physically stuck to your nightstand, its fluorescent green shade haunting you with each passing glance. But you just couldn’t will yourself to throw it away. It was a life preserver tossed to you after falling overboard, a worm on a hook meant to reel you in, a last attempt to fix what had been broken, to reconcile with Steve. You meant it when you said you were done, but the ache inside you longed to be quelled. And there was only one person that could do that. The least you could do was hear him out. Find closure, nothing more, or so you told yourself.

A few days had passed since your encounter at the grocery store and you finally felt brave enough to face Steve again. You knew he was home given that his car had scarcely left the driveway in the past few days. Your legs felt wobbly, knees knocking as you marched in the dark through your lawn, crossing over onto the Harrington’s property. It was late, but you knew he’d still be awake, just as plagued with his thoughts as you were. You jabbed the doorbell with your finger, waiting nervously for the door to open, to see the boy that plagued your thoughts. But it didn’t. So you rang it again, and again, and again. Repeatedly pressing the button until the door finally cracked open.

“I don’t want whatever you’re selling, man,” Steve began but stopped when he saw you, straightening his slumped shoulders. He looked worse than he had at the grocery store like he hadn’t slept in days. He let the door hang open as he gaped at you, unable to form words. You took advantage of the open space, slipping inside his house before he could stop you. Steve shut the door, turning to see what you were doing, but you’d already made your way upstairs to his room.

His room was pretty much the same as it had been the last time you were there, back when the world almost ended. Clothes strewn across the floor, trophies lining small shelves, movie posters galore. You noticed a new poster though, one for Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. Steve finally caught up to you, his perpetual gloominess temporarily taken over by confusion as to why you were suddenly here in his house. You sat on the edge of his bed and he followed suit, worry filling his entire being. Was this the end? Did you come to say goodbye? Steve’s heart beat rapidly in his chest, panic rising in his throat when you finally spoke.

“You said you wanted to explain, so explain,” your voice was soft and quiet, a tone completely unlike the one you used when you were mad. Steve was baffled, wanting to know what made you decide to hear him out, but he knew better than to waste what very well could be his last chance with you.

“I didn’t mean what I said in the record store. I didn’t mean any of it. I wanted to beat the shit out of Allen when he said that stuff,” Steve’s hands shook as he spoke, watching your face for any sign of emotion. He wanted to know what you were thinking, wished he could read your mind. But he couldn’t, so he continued. “It’s like every time I’m around someone from high school, I get pushed aside and someone else takes control of what I say. Someone that reminds me a lot of my father,” angry tears welled in Steve’s eyes. He hated that after all these years his dad still had such an impact on him and the way he acted.

“Steve,” you spoke up, still emotionless in your tone. But Steve stopped you, wanting to continue, practically begging you with his glassy eyes to let him. So you did.

“I know it's not an excuse, and it's so so shitty of me. But he’s just there in the back of my head reminding me that Harrington’s are winners,” a tear dripped down his cheek and it took a great deal of restraint from you to not reach out and brush it away. “I hate that I let him win. I hate that I ever betrayed your trust, that I was so mean to you in school, that I let you out of my life. I hate that I let Allen get away with what he said, that I agreed with him instead, because I don’t. I think you’re beyond perfect the way you are. I don’t want to change anything about you,” Steve stopped for a moment unsure if you’d let him continue. Little did he know that your breath had caught in your chest and extinguished any words that might have spilled from your lips.

“I never ever want to hurt you again,” Steve continued when you didn’t say anything. “I promise, I won’t. I want to be better, I want to be the boy you trusted when we were kids. I care about you so unbelievably much. I never stopped, not once. Please let me prove it,” he’d moved closer to you and you let him, trying your best to keep your feelings hidden from your expression. You were close to breaking, to giving in, to letting yourself be unequivocally in love with Steve Harrington. But you still had to put up a fight, to prove it was the right choice, not just a never-ending loop of pain.

“I’ve given you so many chances, Steve. How do I know this one would be any different?” you couldn’t look at him, knowing you’d lose all your resolve if you did. So your eyes fell to your lap instead. Steve watched your avoidant gaze, wanting more than anything for you to face him.

“Because I love you,” it was firm and unwavering, a declaration spilled from Steve’s cracked lips. It snapped your attention to him immediately, granting Steve his previous wish. “I always have, even when we were kids. I got confused when popularity came into play, but it was still there, in the back of my mind. I didn’t know what it was then, but I do now, and I’ll do anything for you, anything to keep you with me,” Steve grew shy, still unable to tell how you feel. “I want you in any way that you’ll have me. Anything is fine with me as long as I have you back in my life. I just can’t lose you,” Steve finished, leaving his words in the air for you to respond. You took your time to collect your own thoughts, to steady the thump of your heart in your chest.

“Steve,” it was soft, gentle, longing, matching the tone Steve hoped to hear. “I don’t want to lose you either,” the words halted Steve’s heart in his chest. He hoped this was it, that you loved him the way he loved you. “I want to trust you again, but you have to earn it. We can't just keep hurting each other,” you asserted and Steve nodded wildly. You wanted to laugh at the way his hair flopped around on his head as he did it, but you refrained, simply letting a smile crest your lips instead. Steve’s lips matched yours, curling at the edges, and soon you found yourselves incapable of holding back the soft chuckles that rose in your throat.

Steve’s eyes never left you, admiring the smile he’d so dearly missed seeing. He only ever wanted for you to be happy, only wanted you to know you’re loved. And from here on out, he’d make sure that you were. You leaned forward resting your forehead against Steve’s, one last ditch attempt at your silly determination to communicate telepathically. It never worked with Eddie, so why not try it with Steve, the boy you loved since you were five. It would ease the tension, tell Steve what your lips were too scared to say.

“What am I thinking?” you asked, hands coming up to hold Steve’s shoulders in place. His hands wrapped around you, resting on your waist, feeling your scarred skin through the thin material of your shirt. Steve scoured his mind, focusing on you, the soft reflection of light in your eyes, the way your lips were dry and cracked, the curve of your cheekbones. You were more than beautiful to him, you were angelic, bewitching, radiant. You were everything he ever wanted and needed.

“That you like me too?” Steve put on his smug charm, trying to cover up his nervousness. It made you want to laugh, to kiss him, to tell him the truth.

“So close, Stevie. I was thinking more along the lines of love, but if that’s what you’re getting then, sure, we can go with that,” you shrugged jovially, a smile stretched across your cheeks as Steve’s jaw went slack. His eyes watched you for any sign of doubt, of mockery, but he couldn’t find any. He knew it then, you loved him too. Steve found your gaze, eyes whispering to him in their own secret language. Kiss me, they said, and who was he to deny them of their wish? Steve pulled you in, grip tightening on your waist as he did. Your chest was suddenly flush with his, your body now resting in his lap, lips only a breath away from meeting. It was a last chance to bow out, to give it up for good, but you didn’t want to. You tilted your chin, finally closing the gap and brushing your lips against Steve’s. The kiss was encompassed by every flower he’d ever picked for you, every peek behind closed curtains, every taunt and tease and fight, every innuendo, every unseen longing gaze, every utterance of the name Baby, all wrapped together. It felt like winning a game of hide-and-seek that had been called off after an hour of unsuccessful searching, a ring of smoke clinging to the air and lingering high only to be dissipated by the summer breeze, a ceasefire on the battlefield for a war that had gone on too long. It felt like Steve, and you couldn’t get enough of it. His lips danced with yours, never wanting to feel anything but the crush of you against him. But eventually, you ran out of air, pulling back enough to breathe, still keeping your forehead pressed to his.

“I think I knew you loved me because I always loved you too,” Steve’s words were breathy, softened with the heave of his chest. Your smile flashed through your heavy breaths and hot cheeks. Steve Harrington loved you, and you loved him too. It would take some getting used to, but you liked the sound of it. You couldn’t hold back any longer, leaning back in to reattach your lips to his.

A moan mixed in with the kiss, grumbling up from Steve’s throat. His hands shifted down past your waist, landing on your ass with a light squeeze. You laughed at the gesture, keeping your lips pressed against his, and Steve’s heart melted at the sound. But he didn’t have long to linger on the feeling, because your hips rolled against his crotch, catching him off guard. Steve’s mouth opened a bit at the feeling, eliciting a groan from deep within him. You took advantage of the opportunity and slid your tongue against Steve’s. You did the move that you always did, a roll of your tongue against his, and Steve’s fingers dug deeper into your skin.

“Fuck, is that the tongue thing that Hargrove was talking about?” Steve asked, pulling away for just a second before attaching his lips to the column of your neck.

“I don’t want to talk about Billy right now, okay?” you gasped as Steve’s teeth bit into the sensitive spot on your neck. You felt heat flush straight to your core and a whimper slipped from your lips. Steve was mesmerized, enthralled with the sweet sounds you made and the way your breaths picked up.

“Noted,” Steve spoke against your neck, sending vibrations down your spine. He worked his way back up to your lips, hand trailing under your shirt. You flinched when his hand brushed your scar, his cool fingers causing goosebumps to prickle your skin. You always had to lie to your hookups about where the scars came from, but you didn’t need to with Steve. He knew you. He had matching wounds. Steve pulled away, worried about the way you shuddered when he came into contact with the healed skin. But you just lifted your arms above your head, signaling for Steve to remove your shirt. The soft fabric slid from your skin, leaving your chest exposed. You’d foregone a bra that morning, and given the entranced look on Steve’s face at the sight of your bare breasts, you were really glad that you did. His hands gravitated towards your chest, cupping it gently. Steve’s thumbs came to rest on your nipples, brushing back and forth over them, evoking a delicious moan from your lips.

His mouth found yours again, and you couldn’t help the way your hips began to grind against his, craving friction to satisfy the heat pooling between your legs. You removed Steve’s shirt then, and instead of resuming his previous position, Steve tilted his head down, attaching his lips to one of your nipples. You couldn’t help the pleasure that coursed through your veins, grinding harder against Steve’s lap. He was hard beneath his sweatpants, and his length caught against your clit with each movement, only further riling you up. Soft moans fell from both of your lips in harmony until Steve’s mouth departed from your chest, shifting to lay you down with his body hovering over you. His lips were swollen and red, wet with his saliva as he gazed down at you. He looked at you with a hunger that he’d suppressed for far too long as his hands trailed down your stomach, slowly pulling down the sweatpants that rested on your hips. You lifted your bum, making it easier for Steve to take them off. Once your pants were discarded on the floor, Steve’s face shifted down, hovering over your clothed cunt.

“You don’t have to,” you spoke quietly, suddenly seeming shy and so drastically different from the girl who just rolled her tongue into Steve’s mouth.

“Trust me, Baby, I want to. I want to so fucking bad, have for a long time,” Steve’s eyes found yours, but he didn’t move from his spot between your thighs. His breath fanned over your skin, only adding more heat between your legs. He placed small kisses on your inner thighs and your back arched at the sensation. Steve truly had waited a long time to do this, thought about it late at night while his hand fisted his cock, so he was going to savor every second. His fingers dragged over your panties, drawing little stars over the material. You threw your head back, unable to contain yourself as a result of Steve’s teasing.

“Please Stevie, need you so bad,” you begged, breath coming out ragged and labored. Steve smirked up at you, finally hooking his fingers into the cotton material and yanking them off. He lowered himself further, breath now fanning over your exposed heat. Steve wasted no time, licking into your cunt, flexing his tongue with each flick back and forth through your wet folds. You gasped as he held down your thighs, holding them tightly around his head. His tongue was persistent, like a starved man eating for the first time in days. Steve’s hips rutted against the mattress, so turned on by the noises you made, the way you tasted, how you felt against his tongue. It got to a point where you could hardly keep still, squirming wildly beneath Steve’s steel grip, and he knew you were close.

His mouth came up to your clit, sucking it with enough force to make you whine out his name. He could come at just the sounds you made, but he held back, keeping his focus on your core and the shake that slowly began in your thighs. The coil that had been building in the pit of your stomach snapped, a wave of pleasure flooding through you. Steve lapped at your folds, capturing the last of your arousal on his tongue as you came down from your high, chest heaving and thighs quaking.

“Fuck, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Steve ran a hand through his hair, shifting up to place a kiss to your lips. You tasted yourself on him, a whimper escaping you in response. Without breaking the kiss, your hands came down, fumbling to rid Steve of his sweatpants, but he stopped you.

“I wanna return the favor, Stevie. Wanna make you feel good too,” you spoke between kisses and Steve pulled away, hastily shaking his head.

“You do that now and it’ll be all over. I’d rather come inside you, Baby,” Steve's eyes asked you for permission, wanting more than anything to be buried inside you. You understood what he meant and nodded eagerly, the idea reigniting the heat between your thighs. Steve got up quickly, pulling his pants from his legs. You repositioned yourself, now on your hands and knees, facing away from Steve. He kneeled on the bed behind you, one hand smoothing over the curve of your ass, gently finding its resting place on your waist. His lips placed a quick kiss to your spine as he took his length in his hand. He pumped himself a few times before lining up with your entrance, slowly pushing in with a wrecked moan. Your walls stretched around him, squeezing his length as he bottomed out. You couldn’t help the faint pants that fell from your lips at the feel of being so full.

“Fuck, Steve, so big,” you whined, arms weakly holding you in place. He chuckled behind you, trying to keep from blowing his load right then and there. You were so tight, your walls surrounding him perfectly. He slowly started to move, pulling his hips out gently and pushing himself back in. Steve was practically growling at the sensation of your walls clasped so close around him. As you both adjusted, Steve sped up, his hips bouncing quickly off the curve of your ass. It was hot and wet, hard and deep, the sound of skin slapping together filled the room.

“Taking me so good, Baby. Wanna hear those pretty sounds. Making ‘em just for me, right?” Steve’s breath was labored, trying hard to hold on as his fingers dug into your hips. You complied with Steve’s request, letting your stifled whimpers echo throughout the room. Steve pulled you up then, your back pressed to his front as your ass bounced off his thighs. He thrusted up into you and his hands came up to fondle your breasts. “Tell me you’re close, Baby. I can’t hold on much longer,” he muttered in your ear, ending his statement with another shaky groan. You nodded, the back of your head moving against his shoulder as you did. He quickened his pace then, using every last ounce of reserve that he had to pound into you, bodies pressing together. Your face scrunched in pleasure and Steve’s followed, both of you toeing the edge of blinding pleasure.

“Fuck, Stevie. Love you so much,” you moaned through ragged breaths, hand coming behind his head in an attempt to pull his lips to yours. The words you spoke and the crash of your lips against his had Steve coming undone. His hot streams of cum coated the inside of your walls, triggering your own high, cries of Steve’s name muffled by the taste of his swollen lips. You sunk back down onto his lap as he finally ceased his movements, resting on the back of his heels, still buried deep within you. His eyes met your soft gaze and he couldn’t help the uptick of his lips. You loved him and that’s all that mattered to him now.

The two of you cleaned yourselves up, slowly redressing to various degrees. Steve pulled on the boxers that were lost in his sweatpants while you draped your oversized shirt back over your frame. You gave up on trying to find your panties, accepting that they were now lost in the mess of Steve’s cluttered bedroom floor. You fell back into bed with Steve, rolling on your side to face him, the bed sheets draped over you. Steve’s legs brushed against yours, slowly intertwining until one of your legs rested between both of his. You caught sight of a cherry stem resting on his nightstand, one that had been tied in a knot, and held back your teasing remarks about him keeping it. Steve studied you, wanting to memorize this moment, each feature of your face. He wanted to fall asleep and wake up to the sight of your soft, pleasant smile as you watched over him in the same way he did to you. Eventually, Steve’s lids grew heavy, fluttering closed as he drifted off to sleep, you not far behind.

When you woke in the morning, you were still tangled together, radiating heat off one another to fill the otherwise cold morning air. You nestled your head into Steve’s bare chest, a soft groan slipping from him as he awoke. Neither of you wanted to get up, face the morning, and separate after a night together. The only reason you eventually did get up was because Steve had to go to work and you were sure your parents would notice your absence soon.

You went downstairs before him, waiting for him to find his car keys in the mess of his room. You shared a kiss on his doorstep, fingers tangling in Steve’s hair as he pulled your hips flush with his. A whine escaped you as he pulled away, leaning down to pluck a daisy from his mom’s well-manicured front garden. Steve tucked the daisy behind your ear, placing one last kiss to your lips before walking over to his car. He opened his car door, stopping for another glimpse of you before he left. You smiled at him, waving him off and watching as he backed out of the driveway. He blew you a kiss before putting the car in drive and pulling away. You held the kiss close to your heart, the heart that now belonged to him, and headed back across his lawn to your own house.

The smell of coffee wafted through the air as you shut the front door behind you. Your parents sat at the kitchen table, a newspaper between them and a cup of coffee each. You drifted into the kitchen, ignoring their questioning looks, and plugged the phone back into the wall. Your parents shared a silent look, a look of relief that the storm was over, that normalcy would soon resume.

You went upstairs then, entering your bedroom and pulling back the curtains that encompassed your window. You planned to leave a note for Steve stuck to the glass, the same way you used to when you were kids, one for him to find when he got back home from work. But when your eyes drifted to the window across from yours, you were met with confusion.

In place of the army of green men that once sat on the window sill was a pencil with a half sheet of white paper attached to it. A white flag. Steve surrendered, and the war was over. You smiled at the gesture before crafting your own flag to mirror the one across from you. It would be a truce then, breaking even and giving up the fight. The ache in your chest was quelled and replaced by an unfathomable warmth. There were no winners or losers anymore. There was just you and Steve, two lovers that took way too long to figure it out.

You would call Eddie and Robin later to explain the previous night’s events, but for now, you sat back on your bed, Pride and Prejudice clasped in your hands. You opened the cover, eyes landing on the bookmark between its pages, mind drifting off to the boy that picked you flowers and told you he loved you so long ago. Maybe you knew him all along. Maybe he wasn’t so different after all.

You put me on and said I was your favorite

The summer sun beat down on Steve’s tanned skin, sweat dripping from his brow, making a trail down his neck to the collar of his t-shirt. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, wishing to escape Hawkins’ summer heat. With a deep breath, Steve leaned down to grab the box at his feet, hoisting it up to hand to you. You stood in the back of a U-Haul, organizing the boxes that were handed to you. Your very sweaty boyfriend flashed you a smile before turning to go back into his house and grab more boxes.

“You guys couldn’t have picked a hotter day to move,” Eddie appeared in front of you, unruly curls stuck to his forehead and neck. You’d offered him a hair tie earlier, but he declined, now stuck suffering in the humid air. His arms were strained with the weight of the box he was carrying, clearly struggling more than Steve had been.

“Sorry, Eds. We can’t control the weather,” you took the box that he had brought out, placing it somewhere behind you in the truck. You brushed away the sweat that had formed above your lip and watched as Eddie shook his head.

“I can’t believe you guys are actually leaving,” a sad smile stretched his lips as he spoke. He knew that it would happen eventually, that you would leave behind this horror story of a town and start anew. You’d suffered more Upside Down related trauma than he had, and he knew the fears that still crept into your mind from time to time. It was a good change, even if it meant leaving the people you loved behind.

“Me too, honestly,” you looked up then, head snapping towards the sound of voices arguing in the distance. Steve and Dustin were on Steve’s front porch loudly talking back and forth about how to move Steve’s dresser from his room. Robin stood next to them, rolling her eyes and dragging Max towards your house to grab the last of your book collection. “I’m glad it's with him though,” you nodded your head towards Steve, who was still deep in his discussion with Dustin, wild hand gestures and all. Steve caught you gazing at him from the corner of his eye, shooting you a look that said ‘this kid is crazy’ before disappearing into the house, Dustin hot on his trail.

“Yeah, yeah, you guys are in love or whatever. We get it,” Mike appeared at Eddie’s side, his slim arms struggling to carry his box. You raised a brow at him, lifting the box from his arms with ease and he faced you with an unamused glare.

“I think it's sweet,” Will approached behind him, also unloading a box into your arms. He smiled at you sweetly, and suddenly it hit you how much you were going to miss all of them. The bickering and the fights, the tight hugs and reassurances that they would call to let you know they got home safe. The late nights spent overanalyzing every detail of some cheesy movie that you’d forget the plot of by the morning. And in the background of it all was Steve. His forlorn gaze as Nancy walked you down her driveway to your car. His open curtains waiting for your lights to flicker on when you got back from work. His grand gestures as he put himself in harm's way, trying to protect you. You pretended to hate each other, but now you know that you never really did.

The afternoon dragged on, the heat weighing heavy on everyone as boxes and furniture were piled into the truck. Eventually, you all finished and everything you owned was packed away. Steve grabbed a quick shower, rinsing the sweat from his body to make the long car ride more comfortable. You hugged your parents goodbye, urging them to come visit once everything was unpacked. The others still lingered, waiting to watch as you and Steve drove away. Tears filled their eyes and streamed down sweaty cheeks as you hugged each of the younger kids, promising to return for Thanksgiving.

Steve began his round of goodbyes, mainly opting for a secret handshake or a ruffling of hair. Robin squeezed you so tightly that you thought she might crack one of your ribs. She sniffled as she pulled away, moving on to give Steve the same crushing embrace. Eddie stood before you, his head tilted towards the ground. You brushed his hair back from his face, catching sight of his tear-stained cheeks. He pulled you close, arms encompassing your frame.

“You’ll call every week?” he spoke into your hair, burying his face in it to hide his swell of tears. You nodded against him, your own muffled cries slipping from your lips. He pulled back then, and Steve was right behind you.

Steve placed his hand on your back, guiding you to the front seat of the U-Haul. He said his goodbye to Eddie before joining you. Steve’s car was hooked up to the back of the truck and your parents planned to bring yours up with them when they came to visit.

You stood on the ledge of the truck admiring the sea of your friends that stood before you. They watched you with tearful eyes as you shot them one last watery smile and slid into your seat. Your gaze was pulled towards the side of your house, your bedroom window that sat across from Steve’s. It was funny to think how close he always was, even when he felt miles away. Steve’s hand brushed yours then, the tingle of skin pulling you from your thoughts.

“Ready to go, Baby?” Steve asked, reaching down to put the truck in gear. His hair was still wet, smelling of his lavender-scented shampoo. You ran your hands through it, brushing the loose strands to the side. Steve caught your hand, placing a small kiss on your palm before you could pull away.

Sixth grade Steve was right, you were leaving with your things packed into boxes and a new city calling your name. But not because you were the worm girl that was running away. It wasn’t because this town had terrorized and taunted you to the point of no return. You were leaving because you wanted to, not because you felt forced out. And sixth grade Steve was wrong about you finding the love of your life once you left too, because you’d already found him, and for that Steve couldn’t be happier.

“With you?” you questioned, eyebrows raised, hand still encompassed by Steve’s. He nodded, showing you that smile that he reserved just for you. The same one he gave you as you sat on the sidewalk with dried worms newly relocated to the surrounding grass. You mirrored his look, gazing into his hazel eyes with all the love and adoration you had acquired for him over the years. “Always.”

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radiosteve · 2 years ago

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MASTERLIST

STRANGER THINGS

Steve Harrington x Reader

Something, Everything: You and Steve Harrington were best friends, and then you were more, and then you weren’t. When it seems like the world is about to end for the fourth time will you be able to set aside the past to help save your friends? (friends to lovers to enemies? to lovers)

Call Me At Midnight: Your friend Steve invites you over for a late night movie. But you really don't like each other that much, right? (friends to lovers)

Casual: When did being friends with benefits with Steve Harrington get so complicated? Probably when your "no strings attached" relationship suddenly had strings. (friends with benefits to lovers)

I Knew You: You and Steve Harrington have hated each other ever since sixth grade, which made living next door to him all the more miserable. It hadn't always been like that though, shared smiles and loving gestures in secret before popularity went to his head. But now, Steve somehow keeps finding ways to squeeze himself back into your life, making you question if the boy you once knew, the one you might have loved, still lived somewhere within him. (enemies to lovers)

I Knew You Blurbs:

Come Back to Me: You and Steve come back to Hawkins for Thanksgiving only to be surprised by the party (Steve x reader)

Baby Kiss It Better: You and Eddie get a little too high and it cross a line you've never crossed (Eddie x reader)

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radiosteve · 3 years ago

Text

Something, Everything

Summary: You and Steve Harrington were best friends, and then you were more, and then you weren’t. When it seems like the world is about to end for the fourth time will you be able to set aside the past to help save your friends?

Note: I haven’t posted on here in a super long time, but I’m kind of back! This story is inspired by Love and Other Words by Christina Lauren, which I highly recommend. I’ve changed a lot of the details from the book (especially the timeline) but the basic premise is still there. I just wrote this for fun and it ended up being kinda long. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: 18+, no use of y/n (reader is referred to as Honey), smut, unprotected sex, dry humping, friends to lovers to enemies(?) to lovers, language, some cannon divergence, fluff, angst, death, slowburn, naked photo.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x reader, some Eddie Munson x reader

Word count: 16.6k

It all started the night Will Byers went missing. Well, actually it started fourteen years ago, but that cold day in early November 1983 kickstarted the chain reaction that brought you here. Face to face with the one and only Steve Harrington. Your ex-best friend, your ex-almost, your ex-something, your ex-everything.

When you were startled awake by a phone call from your best friend Jonathan Byers asking if you knew where Will was, you instantly knew something was up. You skipped school, sticking by his side as him and Joyce continued their desperate search for any trace of Will. So when Nancy Wheeler squeezed her way in, bringing up monsters without faces and her friend Barb, you tagged along hoping like hell for any sign of Hawkins’ missing persons. You tried to ignore the part when Nancy said Barb was last seen at Steve’s house, and where Nancy so happened to be when Barb went missing.

It wasn’t until after Will’s funeral, when Lucas pulled you aside and told you about the girl they’d been hiding in Mike’s basement, that you got split up from Nancy and Jonathan’s monster hunting. After you were all briefly reunited in the middle school gym, the new dynamic duo secretly slipped away again, carrying out their plan while you stayed unknowingly with the kids. By the time the people from the lab were taken out and the dust settled from Eleven destroying the demogorgon, and seemingly herself, Will had been found and the world felt a little less upside down.

Jonathan caught you by the arm, pulling you into Will’s hospital room before you could join the others in the waiting room. With a quick ‘what the hell’ look and a mutter about Steve Harrington and nail bats and fire, you gladly took your seat across the room from Will’s bed until he woke up. You managed to avoid Steve again that day, something you had gotten really good at since that one day the previous year, but that bond that formed between you all that week was something that couldn’t be severed. It didn’t matter if you hadn’t seen him at all or that he only jumped into it at the last second. There was now a select group of people that understood why Hawkins was so different from other small towns and that group now contained the both of you.

When Halloween rolled around you took the kids trick or treating while Jonathan went to Tina’s stupid party. He didn’t even try to convince you to go with him. Knowing Steve would be there was enough to keep Jonathan from even thinking about asking you. But when Jonathan and Nancy came up to you with their plan to get justice for Barb, you were all in. When you all finally got back to Hawkins, noticing the romantic shift in the air between your two partners in crime, all hell had seemingly broken loose. And when none other than the devil himself came tramping out of the woods followed behind Dustin, Lucas, and the new girl Max, you knew for sure that nothing good could follow.

Despite going to the same school, you had managed to narrowly avoid Steve the past few years. You were in upper level courses while he barely coasted by in the lowest classes possible. It was the first time you had seen each other in nearly two years and it was like the wind had been knocked out of your lungs and spilled out onto the pavement below. He looked like he was about to say something when Dustin finally opened the gate and Chief Hopper came speeding out, effectively saving you from having to talk to Steve. Even back at the Byer’s house you found ways to keep him away. When Eleven came to the rescue, Will was no longer possessed, and the gate was closed, you managed to come out of it all without exchanging a single word or even sparing a passing glance. What you didn’t know was that he pestered Dustin with questions about you on the daily and when he dropped Dustin off at the Snowball that year it took all his willpower to tear his eyes off of the glimpse he got of you through the window.

By the summer you had gotten a job at the record store downtown, running over to the Hawkins Post to visit your favorite couple on your lunch breaks. It didn’t take long to recognize a few regulars at the record store, one of which being Eddie Munson, who so charmingly explained to you one day why he had to repeat his senior year a third time. He was cute, and a good way to take your mind off a certain hairspray obsessed boy that you heard got a job at the new ice cream place in the mall. So you and Eddie became about as casual as causal can be. He even had you pressed against the wall in the record store’s break room when Nancy came barreling in spewing nonsense about exploding rats and chemicals.

It wasn’t until you were dragged all across Hawkins and nearly killed a few times that you ended up in the mall and saw Steve Harrington’s beaten and bruised face for the second time since sophomore year. Even you had to admit that despite the blood and vomit stains, he looked damn good in that sailor outfit. But even as Steve drove into the side of Billy Hargrove’s car, saving you all from being driven into head on, you still couldn’t let go of the pain he caused you at the end of sophomore year. And when the dust settled and Chief Hopper was thought to be dead, you couldn’t help but avoid him again, slinking away to comfort Max and El.

Having no money meant staying in Hawkins and going to community college instead of all the out of state schools you had been accepted into. Nancy stepped up, filling as much of the Jonathan sized gap and becoming your best friend when he moved off to California. You told each other all your secrets, including both of your history’s with Steve. By the time spring had rolled around Eddie had become almost as much of a constant in your life as Nancy. Despite never saying those defining words, you somehow still found yourself curled up against him most mornings. It was because of how close you had both become that you woke up to a frantic phone call from Dustin about Chrissy Cunningham and Eddie and Reefer Rick’s.

As soon as you opened your car door and stepped out onto the pavement, you instantly wished you never picked up the phone. You silently curse yourself for ever entertaining the idea of monster hunting back in 1983 because now you’re stuck with Steve Harrington and this time there’s nowhere to run. Your eyes trace along his figure while you close the distance between you and the others. He’s changed a lot, although you suppose that you have too. His chest fills out those dumb polos a lot better now and his arms are definitely bigger too. His hair is still the same, although maybe a bit longer, but the stubble above his lip is new. You’re pulled from your silent stare by Robin pointing to the boathouse.

Following along quietly, you can’t help but notice Steve’s eyes flickering over you the same way you had done to him. Even as he jabs an oar into a tarp covered boat, his gaze still catches on you. It isn’t until Eddie has him pinned against the wall with a bottle to his neck that Steve snaps his focus away from you. As everyone shouts at Eddie to let Steve go, he doesn’t listen until he hears your voice.

“Eds, please let him go. We just want to help,” your calm words bring both Eddie and Steve’s eyes to yours. Eddie gives a slight nod, slowly releasing Steve. As much as you know you should rush to Eddie, you find yourself sliding in front of Steve. “Are you ok?” Steve swears that he can feel his heart stop for a second. The last time you ever spoke directly to him was now almost three years ago, and god did he miss the sound of it.

“Yeah, I’m alright,” Steve finally managed to barely get out after way too long. You nodded, finally listening to the little voice in your head telling you to get the hell away from Steve and check on Eddie. It isn’t until you’ve crouched down beside Eddie, placing a gentle hand on his arm that you’re reminded of something.

“Are you ok?” your voice rang out into the roaring sound of the classroom. It was the first day of kindergarten and before you sat a red in the face, wailing Steve Harrington. He looked up at you long enough to stop crying for a minute and take you in. You were dressed in a pair of well-loved overalls with a striped t-shirt that was clearly way too big stuffed underneath them. As Steve wiped the tears from his eyes he realized that he hadn’t answered your question.

“I’ve never been away from my mom for this long. I- I miss her,” he squeaked out before fresh tears began to well in his eyes. Your eyebrows furrowed as his face turned red again.

“Is your mom your best friend?” you sat down in front of him now, crossing your legs so that your knees just barely touched his. Steve thought about it and then slowly nodded his head. “My mommy’s my best friend too. Why don’t we let our mommies be our best friends at home and then we can be each other’s best friends here?” you shot Steve a small smile and noticed that his tears had suddenly stopped.

“My mommy calls me Stevie, so if you’re going to be my best friend you have to call me Stevie too,” Steve sniffled out, wiping his nose with his hand.

“Well then you have to call me Honey since that’s what my mommy calls me,” you held out your hand for Steve to shake.

“Ok Honey.”

You’re dragged from your thoughts by the sound of Eddie’s unsteady voice as he explains what happened the night before. Eddie’s shaking hands find their way into yours as he tries to calm down. There’s a flicker of a frown on Steve’s lips that he quickly corrects as he eyes Eddie’s hand enclosed around yours. Despite all of Steve’s nagging and prodding, Dustin never disclosed the nature of your and Eddie’s relationship, knowing it would do more harm to Steve than good. Steve’s gaze lingers on you for a moment longer before he hears talk of spells, curses, and Vecna.

“Who’s Vecna?” you can’t help but find his eyes as a now frightened Dustin slowly explains. And you know with each word that spills from his lips that your spring break just got hijacked by freaky monsters and gates and the Upside Down.

After a while, the rest of the gang takes off on a grocery run, leaving you to stick behind with Eddie. He watches you from the corner of his eye as you walk around the boathouse, silently picking through everything littered around the place. You’re caught off guard when his arms wrap around your waist from behind and his nose buries itself in your neck.

“I really wish I’d taken you up on your offer to come over and watch a movie on Friday instead. Then we wouldn’t be in this mess,” he says, placing a gentle kiss to your cheek before you twist your way around in his arms to face him.

“Well, maybe you wouldn’t be, but I can guarantee I would’ve been dragged into this one way or another. We’re kind of like a club now except our meetings only really take place just as the world’s about to end.”

“Sounds like a fun club,” the sarcasm drips from Eddie’s words and he leans in, slowly closing the distance between your lips.

“Super fun,” you meet him in the middle, soft lips dancing across his, making him groan as he pulls your body closer. He keeps kissing you as his hands find their way to your ass, giving it a quick slap that causes you to jump a little. Eddie pulls away slowly, just enough to see your face clearly.

“So, you and Harrington?” the question hangs in the air even as your eyebrows furrow and your head shakes side to side.

“What about me and Steve?” you search his face for any sign of what he means, but Eddie’s always been pretty good at hiding his true feelings behind those big doe eyes.

“I know you two have a history. Clearly I have no idea what actually happened because you’re very secretive,” you open your mouth to argue but he cuts you off. “No, no. You so are. Maybe not about most things, but you are about him. I know we’re not technically dating, but I just want you to know that I’m not the jealous type,” now you’re definitely confused.

“What are you even talking about?” a small giggle escapes your lips while Eddie’s eyes widen into saucers.

“All I’m saying is that if you and Harrington want to make goo-goo eyes at each other from across the room it won’t bother me,” now you’re fully laughing, and Eddie pulls you tighter to him while a grin breaks out across his lips. “What’s so funny, Honey?”

“Steve and I were not making goo-goo eyes at each other. And honestly you saying you’re not jealous only makes me think that you kinda are jealous,” you manage to stop laughing but you can’t hide the smile etched across your face.

“You wish,” Eddie pulls you in again, gently cupping your cheeks in a smiley kiss that’s quickly interrupted by the sound of the door slamming open. The two of you tear apart and Eddie grabs for his glass bottle again, pulling you behind him. It only takes a second for you both to realize it’s just the others returning from the store with food for Eddie. You don’t miss the way Steve’s gaze lingers on Eddie’s protective hand on your wrist as he files into the boathouse with the others.

Eddie goes to town munching on the food Dustin graciously handed him while they explain that the cops think he killed Chrissy. Eddie shoots panicked glances your way and Robin tries to comfort him with words but ends up making it worse. Even Steve jumps in and despite your hard glare, he and Dustin do nothing but add on to the sense of hopelessness that now fills the air. It isn’t until you all hear sirens in the distance that they finally shut up and Eddie jumps back under the tarp in the boat. You rush to the window, not noticing Steve close behind, and see the cop cars blowing past Reefer Rick’s house. As you peer up at Steve you know that there’s something else going on.

You slide into the back of Steve’s BMW with Dustin and Max on either side and Steve hits the gas until you see the red and blue lights approaching in the distance. Being in the middle seat means you're the last out of the car and the last to notice Nancy surrounded by police officers. She offers you all a small wave as your feet carry you forward, past the police barriers, and into her arms. Nancy lets out a small sigh of relief and squeezes her eyes shut at the feeling of your embrace. The others catch up and you move your way into the trailer park, sitting at a picnic table close to Eddie’s trailer. A place you’d been a thousand times, now crossed off with police tape.

Nancy talks about Fred, Dustin talks about Venca, and you do everything you can to ignore the lingering gaze of Steve Harrington. Your attention snaps back as Max makes the connection between Fred and Chrissy and everyone heads back towards Steve’s car. You follow Nancy as she keeps walking away from the others until you hear Steve’s voice and turn back around.

“Where are you guys going?” Steve’s question is directed at both of you, but his eyes only flicker over to you.

“There’s just something I want to check out first,” she says pointing over her shoulder towards her car.

“And I’m not letting her out of my sight with all this going on,” you speak up next, glancing towards Nancy to avoid looking at Steve.

“No way it’s too dangerous. There’s safety in numbers. You guys need someone to…” he trails off, turning to throw his keys to Robin. “I’ll stick with these two, you guys take my car and go check out the shrink,” Steve heads over to you and Nancy before Robin chimes in about not having a license. Steve squabbles with them all before Robin makes the executive decision that she’ll join you and Nancy instead.

Nancy explains her discussion with Wayne Munson and his thoughts on Victor Creel during the drive to the library. While you go along with Nancy’s hunch, knowing she’s usually right, Robin questions each and every detail of the theory. You can tell Nancy’s getting annoyed as you wait for the keys to the basement archives, stifling a laugh when she turns to you with ‘help me’ eyes.

The three of you search through newspaper after newspaper and you try to tune out Robin as much as you can. She’s nice enough but she talks way more than you remember. Nancy, clearly unable to put up with anymore of Robin’s babbling, goes downstairs to look for more newspaper reels, leaving you with a curious Robin.

“So, Honey…” her voice echoes through the now silent room as you set down the book you were looking through about D&D lore and Vecna.

“Why’d you call me that?”

“Everyone calls you that.”

“No, my friends call me that,” Robin opens her mouth in faux shock, bringing a hand to her chest.

“Are we not friends? Wow, you’d think saving the world from a human flesh monster and burning down a mall with someone bonds you for life, but I guess I was wrong,” you can’t help the small smile that crosses your lips at Robin’s theatrics.

“Alright, we can be friends,” a smile lights up Robin’s face and you mirror it back.

“Good. As your friend, you have to answer all my questions. Why doesn’t Nancy like me?” your smile drops from your face and your hands start to fiddle with the pages in front of you.

“Nancy likes you just fine.”

“I’m not an idiot.” Her eyes bore into yours. “Plus, what’s that thing the kids all say to each other? Friends don’t lie?” you curse Mike Wheeler under your breath for his stupid insistence on honesty.

“She probably just doesn’t like you because she thinks you’re dating Steve and she has other ideas of who she thinks Steve should be with,” it comes out pretty hushed and embarrassed, but Robin hears every word.

“I’m not with Steve. Not in a million years. He is so far from my type. I’d rather let the human population die out before being with Steve,” Robin’s words flood out in a rush of reassurance.

“You’re not a very good wing woman, you know that?” a smirk graces your lips as Robin’s face flushes. “And you don’t have to worry, I know you’re not with Steve.” Robin raises her eyebrows silently asking you ‘how.’ “Unfortunately I know Steve Harrington well enough to know when he’s interested in a girl and he’s not interested in you.”

“Do you know Steve well enough to know that he’s interested in you?” your breath hitches in your throat and your eyes meet hers.

“Yeah, I do,” you choke out, your mind stopping with the wisp of a memory.

“You’re so predictable, I really don’t get how she didn’t see right through you,” Steve puts the phone down and turns to you at the sound of your giggles bouncing throughout the room.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about, Honey,” Steve’s tone is serious but the smile stretching his lips says otherwise.

“Stevie, please. You use the same moves on every girl. If I had a deeper voice and your dumb polo I could pretend to be you, ask a girl out, and she’d never know the difference,” Steve steps closer to you. You’re sitting on his bed folding the laundry he left in a pile on top of it.

“Hey my polos are not dumb and I am not predictable,” he sits down on the bed next you, nearly knocking over the pile of sweatshirts you just folded. Steve grabs a shirt from the pile as you laugh at him again.

“You so are. You’ve been asking girls out the same way since third grade. We’re almost eighth graders now, you really should switch it up,” you snag the shirt from his fingers when you notice he can’t fold for shit. “Plus I can easily tell when you like a girl.”

“No, you can’t,” there’s something different about his voice now as he pulls his attention towards you. You brush it off, continuing your focus on his laundry.

“I totally can. You make up excuses to be around her, you laugh at all her jokes, especially when no one else does, you constantly nag everyone to tell you about her when she’s not there, and you get all moody when she’s with other guys.” you cross your arms over your chest and plaster on a satisfied smirk when Steve’s mouth drops open slightly. “See told you I could tell.”

“You do realize that you just described how I am with you, right?” the question hung in the air, and you found your jaw dropping just like Steve’s.

“Stevie,” it comes out as a whisper. Steve’s eyes shift from your eyes to your lips as you take a shaky breath. “Are you- do you like…” Steve silently nods, too afraid of what would happen if he tore his gaze from you. Your heart thuds in your chest and the world falls quiet around you. You’d harbored a crush on Steve ever since you figured out that boys do not indeed have cooties. It bothered you that he asked out other girls and never you, but it wasn’t your place to butt in. You were happy with as much of Steve as he was willing to give you.

Just as Steve was about to lean in, the phone rang, filling the silence. Without tearing his gaze from yours, Steve reached behind him, grabbing the phone from the nightstand and holding it to his ear. With a quick ‘Harrington residence’ and a muffled response from the other end, Steve handed you the phone. You held it up to your ear, hearing your dad’s quiet voice through the receiver. This pulled you out of your trance, tearing your eyes from Steve, until they fell on the folded clothes before you.

“Can you come home sweetie? I picked up an extra shift and need you to take care of your mom for a little. I can leave you a little money to order a pizza for dinner,” you agreed, hanging up after a promise of being there in 10 minutes. Steve’s gaze roamed over you with a sadness you hadn’t really seen before.

“I better get going,” you spoke softly, getting up from your place on the bed. The moment was gone. You’d both brush it under the rug like nothing happened. You wish something happened. Steve wished something happened. You collected your things scattered around the room and pulled on your shoes. Reaching out for the doorknob, you turned back, catching Steve’s sad eyes. “Bye Stevie, see you soon,” with that you left, heading downstairs and through the door, out to your bike waiting for you in the grass.

“Honey?” Robin snaps you from your trance and you jump a little in your seat. “I said, Steve never told me what happened with you two, but whatever it is, he seems really sorry. Like down on his knees pleading, crying, snot bubbles dripping down his face, sorry,” you scrunch your nose at the image.

“Are you always this descriptive?”

“Only when I’m nervous,” Robin gives you an awkward smile as you shrink back into your chair. What the hell is taking Nancy so long?

“No need to be nervous, Robs. And no need to try getting Steve back into my good graces. Our history is, uh well, history. I’ve moved on from it,” she eyes you wearily, trying to read your expression.

“Moved on enough to be with him again?” you shoot her a glare and she backs down. As you open your mouth to talk, she interrupts you. “I know about you and Eddie. Steve doesn’t, but I do. And I know that you're not really dating so don’t try to make any excuses. If you could just hear him out it could clear this whole thing up and you can live happily ever-” Robin’s sentence is interrupted by Nancy bursting back into the room and you’ve never been more thankful to see her. In her hand she holds the slides for the Weekly Watcher, making you even question her a bit. After scrolling through page after page, Nancy finally stops on a story titled “Victor Creel Claims: Ancient Demon Killed Family.”

“I know that I should’ve learned my lesson by now, but from this point on I’ll never question you again Nancy Wheeler,” you chime in, leaning over Nancy and Robin’s shoulders. Between the three of you, you manage to connect the dots between the ancient demon the article described and Vecna. Rushing out of the library, Robin radios to the others, finding out that they broke into the school. Nancy speeds over to the school as fast as she can and you catch up to a very freaked out Max describing her vision and her corresponding symptoms. Your hand reaches out for hers and she’s about to let you take it before a noise echoes through the empty school hallways.

Following Steve and his trusty lamp, everyone piles into the hallway, coming face to face with an out of breath Lucas Sinclair. He explains that the basketball team is on a manhunt for Eddie and Dustin. You’re all about to shuffle back out to the cars and head to the Wheeler’s when Nancy stops with an idea, grabbing Robin’s arm and pulling her back.

“What are you doing,” you stop, turning to face them as the others keep walking. She gives you a look, one you know means that you’re not going to like what she says.

“Go with Steve and the kids. I’ve got a plan and I need Robin,” she urges you forward, and Robin shoots her a look that you can’t quite read.

“I meant what I said, Nance. I’m sticking with you.”

“Go Honey, we’ll be fine. Plus, I think it’ll help for Max to have you with her,” you want to argue with her, but like usual Nancy’s right. You pull her in for a quick hug before chasing after the others and sliding into the back seat of the BMW next to Lucas. In order to keep your distance from Steve, you head up to take a nap in Nancy’s bed once you get to the Wheeler house. It isn’t until much later that Nancy and Robin show up in the Wheeler’s basement explaining their plan to talk to Victor Creel.

“Please don’t leave me here with him again. Nancy, I can’t take it,” you plead, following her up to her room. She purses her lips as she roots through her closet trying to find an outfit for Robin.

“Come on, Honey. It's been three years; you need to at least learn how to be civil with him. I know he hurt you and that he’s got his flaws, but I really do think he’s changed. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to give him a second chance,” she pulls out a shirt, looking it over before shoving it back on the rack and continuing her search.

“Geez you sound like Robin,” you mutter under your breath and she shoots you a tight lipped look.

“Who sounds like me?” Robin steps through the door, immediately drawn to the cassettes on Nancy’s nightstand and all her other little knick knacks littered throughout the room.

“I was telling Honey to suck it up and stay with Steve,” Nancy glances over her shoulder at Robin messing with her stuff.

“Oh yeah, totally. I think he’d throw a fit if you didn’t. He’d probably complain about being stuck as the babysitter again and we’d never hear the end of it,” Robin moves over to Nancy’s music box, letting out a squeal as a tiny ballerina pops up.

“Maybe you can find it in your heart to at least listen to his explanation of what happened. You never did give him a chance before,” Nancy’s eyes dart between you to Robin, who is still rooting through her stuff.

“This is just because you don’t like Eddie,” Robin snaps her head up, clearly intrigued by your assertion. You feel guilty bringing him into this argument. With all the craziness surrounding you, you’d nearly forgotten about the frightened Eddie left all alone at Reefer Rick’s.

“I like Eddie just fine. It’s you that doesn’t like Eddie, otherwise you would actually be dating at this point. Although he doesn’t really seem like the type to settle down,” Nancy shrugs, handing Robin a frilly blouse and skirt that causes Robin to scrunch her nose. You open your mouth to protest but you’re quickly cut off by Nancy’s glance towards her bed. “Did you sleep in my bed this morning?” you shoot her a guilty smile before making an excuse about checking on Max and sprinting downstairs.

After Nancy and Robin leave, you join the boys in awkwardly watching Max hunch over a desk for a few minutes before she gets up to pass out her letters. Your heart breaks with each word that trickles from her lips and the feel of worn paper between your fingers. Max argues with Steve about going to the cemetery until you chime in.

“If you won’t take her I will,” all eyes shift to you, holding out your hands for Steve’s car keys. He gives you a pleading look to reconsider before giving in and heading out towards his car. You give Max a playful nudge and she flashes you a grateful smile. When you get out to the car Max slides into the back, leaving the only empty seat upfront, next to Steve. He looks at you when you get in and you swear you can see the hope in his eyes.

Following a pitstop at Max’s house, the drive to the cemetery isn’t too long, but you can tell everyone is pretty restless by the time you get there. Max argues with Steve about going to Billy’s grave alone and you, once again stick up for her before sliding back into your seat in the car. Steve opens the door, following suit while Dustin and Lucas make up an excuse about needing fresh air and get out. You’re about to grab the door handle yourself when Steve’s voice cuts through the silence.

“Honey…”

“Don’t call me that,” you stare straight ahead, almost too afraid to look at him. Steve takes a second to hide his shock, his face returning to its normal shade after its flush of scarlet at your words.

“I honestly don’t think I can call you anything else,” his voice is quiet and it makes you finally turn your head to him. You realize that he’s nervous, more nervous than you knew Steve Harrington was capable of being. Even in the face of demodogs and other dimensions, Steve had never seemed this overwrought. “I just want to talk, please. I’ve wanted to explain, tried to explain, ever since that day, but you’ve never let me. Just, please, let me,” he sounded desperate, and if you were any less stubborn, you might have actually let him.

“Now’s not really a good time, Steve,” he shifted back in his seat, processing what you said. Steve. Not Stevie. Steve. He wondered if maybe Vecna had cursed him and all of this was just some long, drawn out nightmare. But here you are, sitting in his car, looking more beautiful than he remembered, and he knows this is real. He wants to say more, but the words get stuck in his throat. Steve feels like he’s about to choke when you look past him, eyes landing on Max, sitting stiffly in front of Billy’s headstone. “Somethings wrong,” you throw open the door, calling for the boys and running towards Max. Her haze covered eyes make you recoil back for a second before you grab her shoulders, shaking them as hard as you can.

“What’s wrong?” Lucas nearly plows into you, trying to look at Max himself. You regret not listening to Steve and letting her go by herself. Steve shouts at Dustin to radio Robin and Nancy while you keep trying to break Max out of her trance. After a minute Dustin shouts something about music and favorite songs, throwing Max’s Walkman and cassettes on the ground in front of you. Sorting through cassettes, Lucas hands Steve a Kate Bush album, clicking it in, putting the headphones over her ears, and clicking play. Everyone stops for a second as the faint sound of Running Up That Hill comes from Max’s ears.

You think it might be working for a second until Max’s body starts to rise from the ground, no matter how hard you try to hold her down. A scream rips from your throat as you watch what could be Max’s last moments. You think back to the girl in the Mike Myers mask on Halloween a few years ago as tears brim in your eyes. Losing hope with each passing second before you hear a gasp above you and Max tumbles down from the sky. Lucas wraps her in his arms and you all reach out to hold her in some way.

As the minutes pass and everyone’s breathing returns to normal you realize that in the chaos of the moment your hand found its way into Steve’s. With one glance his way you can tell he’s more than aware that you’re holding his hand and will do anything to keep you from letting go. It takes every fiber of your being to hold back a small smile at how easily you can read him. His hand is warm, but you remember that his body has always run on the warmer side. You can’t help but find yourself getting caught up in a distant memory.

The Snowball hadn’t originally seemed like it was going to suck, but now that you were here, it definitely sucked. Brent Majors had made a big deal of asking you to go with him in front of the whole school at lunch. So you reluctantly agreed, wishing Steve had mustered up the courage to ask you first. He ended up asking Kat Connors to go with him, and despite the fact that she would’ve rather gone with friends, she accepted.

Steve arrived first and was immediately ditched by Kat who got sucked into her group of friends by the punch bowl. With a sigh, Steve plops himself down at an empty table and begins staring at the clock, willing the night to end. He loses himself in the hands of the clock until he hears the gym doors slam open, you emerging behind them. Steve’s breath catches in his chest, the same way it had a million times before, as he takes in the way you sparkle in the beautiful purple dress that your mom picked out for you on one of her good days. It isn’t until his eyes find your arm linked with Brent’s that his heart drops.

When Steve finally catches your eye you shoot him a wide smile and a small wave. Brent drags you past Steve, over to a table across the gym that was already packed with Brent’s friends. After about twenty minutes you realize that Brent has no intention of dancing with you so you get up and excuse yourself. Steve is still staring at the clock, trying his best not to look over to Brent’s table, when you sit down in the empty chair beside him.

“It seems that both of our dates are absolutely against dancing with us,” you speak up, nodding your head over to where Kat still stood engulfed by her friends.

“It appears so,” Steve breathed out, leaning back in his chair. He turns towards you, finally getting a chance to look at you up close.

“It’s as if they come from a town where dancing is illegal or something,” you joke, provoking a smile to appear on Steve’s lips. His lips that you now couldn’t stop staring at.

“That would make a great movie.”

“Are you kidding? That would make an excellent movie,” you smile now, seeing Steve break out of his stupor. “Come on,” you get up, holding out your hand for Steve to take. He gives you a look before you continue. “Let’s show ‘em how to dance,” Steve rises to his feet, gently taking your hand as you pull him towards the dance floor.

The two of you dance circles around the other kids, clearly enjoying yourself way more than all the others. You’re having so much fun with Steve that you completely miss the death stare Brent sends him from across the room. As the night winds down the songs start to slow. When one slow song in particular comes on, Steve grabs your hand and pulls you close. You sway back and forth, enough room between you for the chaperones to not intervene, but not enough for you to not feel the heat radiating off of him.

“Your hands are warm, Stevie,” a confused smile etches itself onto Steve’s lips, leaving you to scramble for words. “It’s not a bad thing. I mean all of you is warm. You’re always warm,” you feel heat rush to your face and your eyes dart around the room, landing anywhere but Steve.

“Thank you, I think,” he laughs at you now and you can’t help but join. “It’s a good thing that I’m always warm because you are always cold. You need someone to warm you up,” the smile still lingers on his lips, and you can’t help but look at them. Overcome with the closeness of the moment, you take a leap and say something bold.

“What if I said my lips were cold?” you ask, hearing Steve’s breath hitch despite the loud music.

“I guess I would have to warm them up for you,” Steve shakily breathes out, eyes shifting over you. He leans in slowly and you do too. When your lips collide it’s soft, softer than you envisioned it. And as much of a joke it had been, Steve’s lips really were warm. You find yourself lost in the feel of Steve’s mouth on yours, not wanting to ever pull away, until you hear a throat clear behind you. One of the chaperones stands behind you, clearly embarrassed to witness your kiss with Steve.

“Three inch minimum please,” the woman speaks authoritatively before turning on her heel and walking back to the side of the gym. You turn to Steve again and find him already cracking up. It doesn't take much for you to join him.

When the air settles around you and the sun starts to fall behind the trees, Max stands on shaky legs, heading back to the car. No one is in the mood to talk anymore. Even Dustin keeps his mouth shut. The only thing you hear besides the car engine is the faint sound of Kate Bush’s voice coming from Max’s headphones.

Back at the Wheeler’s basement, Steve falls into an armchair, curling into himself and falling asleep as you sit on the floor beneath him. Nancy and Robin arrive shortly after, reading the room and quietly joining the silence. After a brief conversation about setting up shifts to watch over Max, you find your eyelids growing heavy. You lean back into the space by Steve’s legs, catching a glimpse of Robin and Nancy’s shared look at the sight. Too tired to care, you let your head lull to the side as sleep washes over you.

Nancy’s hushed words spoken into the walkie talkie wake you a few hours later. The warmth radiating from your shoulder pulls your attention from her. Steve’s leg is pressed up against your right side and it seems as though you’d fallen asleep against it. Sitting up properly now, you shift away from Steve, caught off guard when Nancy shakes Dustin awake next to you, frantically asking about Max. Pushing yourself to your feet you quickly follow them upstairs, finding Max at the table with Holly.

With a mumble about a shower, you head upstairs making a beeline for the linen closet, and pull out a towel. You head to Nancy’s room, finding the toothbrush you left there last time you stayed over and setting it with your towel on the bed. Just as you lift your sweater over your head, Nancy’s door swings open, making you scramble to cover your chest with your arms. Steve stands in the doorway, mouth hanging open in surprise as his eyes stay glued to your chest.

“Steve, what the hell?” you shout, knocking him out of his trance.

“Shit, right. Sorry,” he blurts out, averting his eyes to the ceiling. You quickly shove your sweater back on while he continues. “Max and Nance found something so we’re leaving,” he glances back at you now that your shirt is back on.

“Found what?”

Getting out of the car you find yourself staring up at Victor Creel’s creepy ass house. Breaking in was easy, fighting the chill that runs down your spine as you walk in was not. After a look around, you break off into groups, quickly following Robin and Nancy to avoid being paired with Steve. You can hear his displeasure in being partnered with Dustin again from his voice echoing up the stairs. Exploring the house sets your nerves on edge and it’s only amplified when Steve bursts through a door beside you, running into you and mumbling something about a spider before pulling the door shut. A giggle rises in your chest when you catch sight of the array of spiderwebs littering Steve’s hair.

“You got something,” Steve quickly turns his back to you, angling his head to grant you better access to his hair. Robin and Nancy walk past you reaching to grab a spider web from Steve’s locks. They both shoot you a look while Steve tries to brush off the comment Robin makes about spider eggs.

“So, you two are like friends now?” you hum in agreement. “That’s cool, that’s cool. Maybe when this is all over Robin will finally wear you down enough to let me explain what happened,” you stiffen behind him, plucking the last spider web from his hair. Steve turns to face you, clearly a little disappointed at you shutting down at the mention of your shared past. He’s about to say something when you hear Max and Lucas call for you all downstairs.

Standing in a half circle, everyone watches the lights flicker, making the connection that Vecna must be in the house. Splitting up again you spread out trying to find where he’s moved on to next. Robin finds Vecna first but it’s Steve who’s flashlight leads you all the way upstairs to the attic. The flashlights start to pulse and shatter with intensity, scaring the shit out of everyone. Shaken and scared, you all file back into Nancy’s car heading off to finally shower and get some sleep.

In the morning Nancy drives you to your house to get some clean clothes since your car is still over parked at Reefer Rick’s house. After a quick shower the two of you head back to her house where the others are waiting. When it’s time to pile back in the car to deliver Eddie more groceries and bad news, Nancy stops you from getting in the front seat. She points to the trunk where Steve was already getting in, trying not to make it obvious that he was watching you. With a sag of your shoulders and a dramatic eye roll, you climb into the trunk with Steve, making a point to keep as far from him as possible in such a tight space. You swear you see Nancy smile to herself through the rear view mirror. Best friend my ass.

Robin does what she does best and rambles on about all the bad news to tell Eddie, doing a bit to distract you from how Steve’s eyes haven’t left you once. Noticing that Nancy has started to slow down, you peer through the windows, seeing the news vans and cop cars. The group hops out, hearing enough of Powell’s speech to know Vecna claimed another victim and Eddie's name was released to the public as the prime suspect. Just then Eddie’s voice cracks through the static of the walkie talkie, telling you all to meet him at Skull Rock.

Back in the car your thoughts race over Eddie. Poor Eddie who’s now witnessed two of Vecna’s murders all while being chased by the police. You can’t help but shift restlessly in the trunk and it’s sure as hell doesn’t help that Steve’s leg keeps brushing against yours. Overcome by anxiety you lean up a bit to look at Nancy through the rear view mirror again.

“Nance, can you maybe drive a little-” your sentence gets cut off as Nancy takes a sharp left turn towards the woods, throwing you into Steve’s lap. Your head hits the window and you let out a moan as your hand shoots up to cradle it. “Faster,” you finish, slowly realizing you’re now practically laying on top of Steve. His eyes are blown wide looking up at you with a hint of lust and recognition. It’s then that the memory resurfaces, making you want to curse under your breath and scramble back up.

After the kiss at the Snowball, everything seemingly went back to normal. Neither you nor Steve were brave enough to bring it up, meaning that you continued to push down your feelings and stay friends. Now you sat on his bed, reading a book while he paced around the room.

“I still can’t believe you wouldn’t let me see you on your sixteenth birthday,” he huffs, stopping at the edge of the bed to glare down at you. You groan, placing an old receipt in between the book’s pages and closing it in your lap.

“I told you Stevie, Mrs. Byers planned out a whole thing and you don’t like Jonathan so I figured you and I could just hang out another day,” Steve, who had returned to his angry pacing, stopped again.

“I don’t dislike Jonathan,” he defends and you let out a laugh. “He just spends a lot of time with you. Time that you could be spending with me,” you roll your eyes at that, about ready to pick up your book and go back to reading before Steve starts talking again. “Why would Mrs. Byers even plan out stuff for your birthday?”

“Because I’m extremely likable ,” you shoot Steve a cheesy grin and he fake laughs in response. “And I’m pretty sure she felt bad since my parents forgot. She just wanted me to enjoy my birthday,” Steve’s face changes at your words. His eyebrows furrow, eyes growing wide and glassy while his lips part. He takes a seat next to you on his bed, offering you his hand, which you gladly accept.

“Your parents forgot your birthday?” his voice is soft and unbelieving. That’s something he’d expect from his parents, not yours. You nod slowly, feeling a burn in your throat.

“I mean, it’s not their fault really. Dad is working crazy hours to try and pay off mom’s medical bills. I don’t think he knows what day it is normally, let alone on my birthday. And with mom-” your throat clogs a bit, trying not to cry as you cast your gaze down at your lap. “With mom we’re just lucky enough if she remembers to put clothes on in the morning. I didn’t really expect her to remember,” you finally look back up at Steve, his hand reaching up to brush a stray tear from your cheek.

“Honey, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize your mom was getting that bad,” you nod again, not trusting your words. A moment of quiet stretches between the two of you. The feeling of warmth from Steve’s hand comforting you as much as his presence. “You know what?” he stands up slowly pulling his hand from yours. “You’re right, it’s probably a good thing I didn’t come to the Byer’s for your birthday. You probably would’ve spent too much time doing stuff with Jonathan and I would’ve gotten jealous. I mean boring stuff too, like reading,” he reached forward grabbing your book from your lap.

“Stevie! Reading is not boring! Give that back,” you shift onto your knees, trying to get the book from Steve’s grasp. He jumps off the bed, standing just by the side opposite you and waves the book in the air. In a split-second decision, you leap from your spot, tackling Steve onto the ground where he still manages to hold the book out of your reach. Steve flips you over so you’re pinned beneath him as you continue to flail for your book.

A smirk graces his face at the sound of your giggles. He has you caged in with his limbs and despite your squirming, it’s impossible to escape. You try to move up and get the book but you stop at the feeling of your hips brushing against Steve’s. He stops too, stunned into paralysis as the book drops from his hand above you. You lock eyes with Steve, feeling your face heat up, completely forgetting the now abandoned book. As you go to stutter out an apology, Steve mimics your action, grinding his hips into yours slowly. You can feel that he’s already hard after one or two brushes against each other. A gasp escapes your lips and you close your eyes in pleasure.

“Tell me to stop,” he breaths out above you, clearly feeling as good as you are. Steve looks down at you and you peel your eyes open to meet his.

“I don’t want you to stop, Stevie,” he smiles, continuing the motion as the two of you grind against each other, fully clothed on the floor of his room. You both let out moans and gasps as Steve steadies his pace. “Faster. Please, Stevie,” Steve’s heart pounds as he picks up the pace for a few more strokes.

“Shit, fuck,” he breaths out, quickly standing up and bolting towards the bathroom. You lay confused on the floor, still breathing heavily as you turn your head to look over at the bathroom attached to Steve’s room. Scrambling to your feet, you make your way over to the door, giving it a soft knock.

“Stevie, are you ok?” you’re met by silence when it finally clicks into place. “Shit, did you just-” the door swings open, revealing Steve wearing a new pair of sweatpants while his other pair sits crumpled up in a corner.

“Yeah,” his voice is still breathy and his face is flushed. “It was the way you said it that tipped me over the edge,” he takes you in, with your messy hair and heaving chest.

“Said what?” you ask, confusion overtaking your expression.

“Faster.”

“Shit, are you two ok back there?” Nancy’s question hangs in the air and you can hear all the others turning around to see you still laying on top of Steve. You quickly move up, retreating back to your side of the trunk as your face burns with embarrassment.

“We’re fine, Nance,” you call back, avoiding all eye contact with Steve, who can’t seem to tear his gaze from you now. After another minute or two Nancy stops the car and you waste no time in getting out. You try to ignore the sight of Steve’s deflating shoulders as you scramble as far away from him as you can. Moving deep into the woods, you hear Dustin pick a fight with Steve over which direction leads to Skull Rock.

“You do realize that Skull Rock is like a super popular make out spot, right?” you trail a bit further behind the two of them with Nancy and Robin beside you.

“Yeah, so what?”

“Yeah well it wasn’t popular until I made it popular,” Steve says, making you roll your eyes in response. You’re more than familiar with the rumors that spread throughout the school of King Steve taking girls up to Skull Rock. The rumors only started after you stopped talking to Steve and they only made you hurt more. Steve leads the way, much to Dustin’s dismay, and shortly after you all arrive at Skull Rock. There’s no sign of Eddie until Steve says something about Dustin being a butthead.

“I concur, you, Dustin Henderson, are a total butthead,” Eddie jumps down from a nearby rock, and you all turn to look at him. He hugs Dustin first before his eyes fall onto you. Eddie practically sprints towards you, wrapping his arms around you and spinning you into the air. A laugh escapes you when he sets you down, leaning in to give you a quick kiss.

“I’m glad you’re ok. Sorry it took us so long to get back to you,” your arms fall from around his neck, trailing down towards his hands.

“Don’t worry Honey, you’re here now and that’s enough for me,” Eddie pulls you back in for another kiss and you hear a throat clear behind you. Dustin stands watching you both with a face of disgust, while Steve tries to pretend he didn’t see anything. It doesn’t take a 20/20 vision to see the angry red splotches on Steve’s skin and the slight glassiness in his eyes.

Eddie dives into the bags of junk food Nancy hands him and starts to explain the previous night’s events. You can’t help but notice Dustin’s incessant pacing behind you. Nancy connects the dots between the lights in the Creel House and Vecna’s attack on Patrick when Dustin starts shouting and rambling on about magnets and a gate. He leaves it up to Eddie who, after a Lord of the Rings reference, agrees to start the search for the gate to the Upside Down.

Eddie has his arm wrapped around your shoulder the entire trip through the woods, whispering dirty words in your ear to make you giggle. The sun fully sets by the time you reach Lover’s Lake and Dustin’s compass goes crazy. Nancy determines that Vecna must leave an opening behind from his attacks, similarly to the demogorgon. Eddie and Steve pull the hidden boat over, helping Robin in before Eddie hops in offering Nancy a hand. You step over the motor, stumbling a bit and Steve grabs your back to steady you. Eddie eyes him wearily as you mutter a thanks and take a seat next to Nance. Eddie stops Dustin from getting in the boat, which doesn’t stop the flood of protests before Dustin eventually hands over his compass.

“Sorry,” Steve shrugs towards Dustin, pushing the boat away from the shore and settling in next to you. Robin and Eddie paddle out towards the middle of the lake when the compass starts to go crazy. They slow to a stop as you all peer over the edge of the boat. The kids radio out and Robin updates them while Steve starts to strip off his socks, determined to be the one that dives down. After a small fight you all give in and Steve stands, taking off his shirt. An audible gasp escapes your lips at the sight of shirtless Steve and all but Steve’s head turns your way. It’s almost too dark to see the shared smirk Robin and Nancy shoot each other, but you still notice. Eddie tosses Steve a flashlight before he dives down and Nancy counts the seconds on her watch.

After what feels like way too long, a breathless Steve pops up grabbing the side of the boat. He rushes out words of a snack size gate as something tugs him down for a second. He grips the boat harder, sparing one last look your way before he gets pulled under. With a shout of his name, you leap in after him, pushing through the water as fast as you can until you find the glowing gate. You break through, adjusting to the dim light of the Upside Down while you look for Steve. He’s a few yards away, being attacked by a bunch of bats. You pick up an oar from the boat on the ground when you see Nancy, Robin and Eddie appear from the gate as well. Wasting no time, you swing the oar as hard as you can, taking out a bat at Steve’s side.

“Hey Stevie,” you say breathlessly, before swinging the oar again to smack another bat out of the way. Nancy, Robin and Eddie all attack the bats around you with whatever they can find as well. Eventually Steve is able to get up, tearing the bat from around his neck with his teeth. He spits out blood before meeting your eyes again, and for something that shouldn’t be hot, that was really fucking hot. Nancy starts for the woods when the bats start to swarm the gate and the rest of you follow.

Huddling under Skull Rock, Steve starts to sway, tripping into the side of it. You reach your hands up to balance him and he tries to brush you off, claiming he’s fine despite the blood loss. You set him down and remove your flannel, leaving you in just your tank top and overalls. Robin rambles to Steve about rabies as you rip the worn fabric and tie it tightly around his waist, covering the bat bites. He stares down at you, chest heaving and eyes wide.

“Too tight?” you ask, trying not to sound as nervous as you feel to be this close to Steve.

“No it’s perfect, thanks,” he sends you a soft smile that you can’t help but reciprocate. You help him stand as Eddie and Robin throw questions at the rest of you about the Upside Down and how it works. Nancy comes to a quick conclusion that you all need to go to her house, retrieve guns, and kill the bats to get back home. Steve takes a step closer to you, reaching over to wipe some blood from the bat fight from your face. You freeze, wide eyes looking up at him as your breath hitches in your chest. The moment is interrupted by Eddie launching his denim vest at Steve’s face mumbling something about modesty.

The ground starts to shake beneath your feet and Eddie tries to lunge toward you but Steve wraps his arms around you first, pulling your back flush against his chest. Steve backs into the rock behind him, holding it for support until the shaking subsides. The echo of the bats rattles through the air, reinforcing the idea of needing guns. Steve slowly retracts his arm from around you, letting you move away from him. Despite the distance you’ve purposefully created between the two of you for the past three years, you find yourself not wanting to pull away from him. You feel safe in his arms. The way you once did. The way you always did. You catch Eddie’s eyes on you and Steve before he quickly redirects them away.

“What are we waiting for?” Steve says, bringing out the flashlight from before and clicking it on. The rest of you follow him as he leads the way through the woods to Nancy’s house. As you all keep walking, Steve ends up falling into step with Eddie a little ways behind you, Nancy, and Robin. You can’t hear them from how far away you are, but it’s nearly eating you alive wanting to know what they’re discussing.

“What do you think they’re talking about back there?” you break through the silence the three of you created. Nancy and Robin quickly glimpse back at the boys then turn their attention back to you.

“You. Definitely you,” Nancy replies with a small smirk on her lips.

“Oh shut up,” you give her a playful shove and she giggles.

“I’m serious though. I mean they only have two things in common. Their love for Dustin and their love for you,” you stumble over your own foot at Nancy’s words, making Robin laugh. You shoot her a glare before Nancy goes on. “And since Dustin’s not here I think it’s safe to say they’re all about you at the moment. They’re both clearly jealous of each other,” you open your mouth to argue that Eddie’s not the jealous type but Robin interrupts first.

“Seriously, Steve looked like a kicked puppy when Eddie kissed you earlier and the way Eddie threw his vest at Steve definitely had something angsty behind it,” your gaze trails over to the boys behind you, taking in the sight of Steve and Eddie’s faces while they talk animatedly back and forth. They stop walking for a minute and the ground begins to shake again. The force of the earthquake slams you into a tree, knocking you on the ground. Nancy takes off before the shaking stops, heading for the edge of the tree line where she can see her house. Eddie hooks his arms under yours, pulling you up from behind and the rest of you take off after her.

The Wheeler house, a place you’d been to a million times, looks frighteningly different, covered in vines and in such low light. Nancy rushes upstairs, followed by Robin, Eddie, and Steve in front of you. Steve stops halfway, turning his head towards the dining room, catching your attention too. You and Steve share a look, hearing Dustin’s voice echo from that direction and run back down the stairs. Steve calls out to him, progressively getting louder with each try. The others hurry downstairs and you try to explain while Steve continues shouting for Dustin like a crazy person. Nancy brings up Will and the lights, fiddling with light switches that won’t work.

“Guys,” everyone turns towards you as you point at the now shimmering chandelier. They gather around while you stick your hand into the shimmering air, igniting the air around it in a soft light. The others join in, feeling the tingling sensation that it brings when you touch the light.

“Does anyone know Morse code?” Nancy’s question is met with a chorus of no’s until Eddie shifts to look at her.

“Wait, does S.O.S. count?” you all turn towards Eddie, hopeful for the first time since you dove after Steve into Lover’s Lake. It only takes a minute or two for Dustin, Lucas, and Erica to notice your signal for help. Talking back and forth on Holly’s Lite-Brite, you all come up with a plan to meet at Eddie’s trailer where there will hopefully be another gate. The five of you rush outside, grabbing the bikes from the Wheeler’s garage.

“Wait, there’s only four,” you point out, everyone hopping on a bike but you. Steve turns to look at the back wheel of his bike, noticing that his bike belonged to Mike.

“Mine’s got pegs on the back that you can stand on. Hop on,” he motions you over and your desire to get out of the Upside Down overrides your reluctance to be near Steve. Putting one foot on the first peg, you grab Steve’s shoulders for support, lifting the other foot next. “Hold on tight, ok?” you nod and Steve lifts his feet from the ground to start pedaling as the others follow. You wrap your arms around Steve’s torso, doing your best to avoid the bat bites on his abdomen. Even bloody and shirtless in the Upside Down, Steve still radiates warmth, keeping you comfortable now that you don’t have your flannel to wear.

Steve’s out of breath by the time you get to Eddie’s trailer, coming to a quick stop in the grass. He helps you off and drops the bike down, following closely behind as you burst through the door. The gate is bright and red as something starts moving beneath it. Suddenly, whatever it is bursts through causing you to jump back, right into Steve’s arms. He moves you behind him, slowly approaching the hole that now covers most of the ceiling. You inch up behind him with Nancy at your side. Dustin’s hat is the first thing you see, making you burst into a bright smile at the sight. You notice the others share a similar look of relief.

The kids bring out Eddie’s stained mattress and you can’t help but catch Eddie’s embarrassed glance your way, knowing that you’re both very aware of how some of those stains got there. Dustin throws a rope made of tied bed sheets through the gate, finding that it defies all laws of physics and holds in place. Robin goes first, falling onto the mattress below. Eddie looks around at you, Steve, and Nancy before moving to go up next. He flops down, being pulled up by the kids. Nancy’s about to go next when she freezes up next to you. You and Steve share a look before looking back at her, seeing foggy eyes and a blank expression.

“Nancy?” you place your hands on her shoulders, trying to shake her awake. “Nancy, come on, wake up. Nancy!” you shout panicked with Steve next to you, looking equally worried. The others start scrambling, trying to find a cassette tape in Eddie’s trailer that has a song on it that Nancy would actually know. Suddenly, Nancy gasps awake, and you pull her into your arms as her legs give out beneath her. “We’re right here, Nance. You’re ok now. It’s ok,” tears spill from her eyes and you pull her into a tight hug. When she calms down enough to climb through the gate, you help, giving her a boost from below. You go next, catching Steve staring at your ass from the corner of your eye as you climb the rope.

Once you’re all back right side up, everyone sneaks over to Max’s trailer, not wanting to stay so close to the gate. Nancy heads for the bathroom, needing a minute alone to pull herself together after being trapped in Vecna’s mind prison. Eddie grabs your hand asking Max if he can use her room for a minute.

“As long as you don’t do anything gross in there,” she gives him a glare and he responds with a fake gasp, hand shooting to his chest.

“When have I ever done anything gross?” Eddie asks in mock offense.

“I mean look at your mattress for one-” Max begins but you cut her off with a promise that nothing will happen in her room. Eddie pulls you in, careful not to touch anything considering how you’re both covered in goo from the Upside Down. He looks nervous, fiddling with his hands as he looks up at you. You are about to speak up and break the silence when he starts.

“No, no. I talk, you listen. Ok?” you nod, meeting his gaze. “When we started hooking up, that was all we intended for it to be. Then we became friends and started hanging out even when we weren’t looking to hook up,” he pauses, searching for the right words.

“Eds,” you begin, but he holds up a hand to silence you.

“Honey, I’m not one for relationships, you know that. And I’m also not one to get in the way of one,” you’re thrown off. When he started talking, you were sure he was going to ask you to be his girlfriend, but now he’s pulled a total 180. “I don’t know what happened between you and Steve. Hell, I might never know, but I see the way he looks at you. More importantly, I see the way you look at him,” he gets quiet, eyes searching your face and waiting for your impending push back.

“But I like you, Eds,” you choke out, not realizing that you started crying. He lets out a breathy chuckle, holding your hand in his. Eddie’s hands were always ice cold. You’d always thought it was because of those metal rings he wore, but you could never tell.

“I like you too, Honey. So much,” he breathes out a shaky breath, looking down at his shoes and you notice a tear streak through the dirt caking his face. “But you love him,” he looks back up at you and you swear your heart stops beating. “Do you even realize what you called him earlier?” you shake your head, not following. “Stevie. What you used to call him. Back when you were friends. Back when you-” Eddie stops, slowly dropping your hands. “Go get him. Go be happy again. Then I can be happy for you,” he gently cups your cheeks, pulling your head forward to press a kiss to your forehead before leaving you alone, standing in the middle of Max’s room.

After taking a minute to pull yourself together and wipe the tear streaks from your cheeks, you step back into Max’s living room. All eyes land on you as you settle on the floor next to Robin. She notices your red rimmed eyes and places a comforting hand on your knee. Letting out a breath, you lay your head on her shoulder and she gladly lets you. Nancy emerges from the bathroom. Sitting in a chair that gives you all a good view of her. She describes what Venca showed her, putting two and two together to realize that Vecna is only one person away from fulfilling his master plan.

Max tries to call the Byer’s, but she’s met with a busy signal again. Nancy becomes hell bent on going back in and killing Vecna, and after a rambling of protests all around Max speaks up, offering herself as the bait. Your heart breaks, realizing how much she’s grown in the time you’ve known her. She’s different now, you all are, but she’s taken more hits than some of the rest of you. Reluctantly, you all agree, forming a plan to get weapons and take down Vecna. Eddie hot-wires his neighbor's camper, throwing Steve into the front seat to drive. Nancy rushes into the seat next to him while the rest of you hold on to anything you can find. You get thrown onto the bench in the back, falling in between Max and Dustin as Steve maneuvers out of the trailer park in the direction of the War Zone. The road stretches and the boys in the back keep a steady conversation.

“I wish Will were here. He’d be able to spy on Vecna for us and make this a million times easier,” Dustin says looking at the trees passing by out the window.

“I’m glad he’s not here. Poor kid has already been through enough. He doesn’t need to go through this shit too,” you speak quietly, looking up from your hands in your lap to find Lucas, Dustin, and Max staring back at you. “We could use Mike though. One conversation with his sassy ass and Vecna would be ready to abandon Hawkins for good,” a smile creeps onto Max’s lips, knowing her distaste for Mike’s attitude.

“What would you know about Mike being sassy? He’s hasn’t been rude to you ever since he developed a crush on you back in third grade,” Dustin chimes in, causing your eyebrows to shoot up to your hairline.

“Wha- so just because he’s not here you’re gonna spill all his secrets? Some friend you are,” you joke, still freaked out by the idea of a young Mike Wheeler crushing on you.

“No, I’d tell you if he were here too. Like this,” he stops talking, eyeing Lucas across the aisle. “Lucas has had a crush on you since second grade,” Dustin receives a pillow to the face thrown by Lucas.

“Dustin’s liked you since fourth grade. Ever since you started helping Will draw out our D&D characters,” Lucas smirks back at Dustin until Dustin tackles him to the floor. You look over at Max who is laughing at the two wrestling each other. Getting up, you move to the front, hanging over the back of Nancy’s seat.

“What are they doing back there?” Steve asks, looking in the rear-view mirror to see Dustin and Lucas still rolling around on the ground.

“Dustin told me that Lucas likes me, then Lucas told me Dustin likes me and now they’re fighting I guess,” you gesture over your shoulder and Nancy turns to see what you’re talking about.

“That’s weird, I’m pretty sure Mike has a thing for you too,” Nancy says, shifting back in her seat to look up at you.

“Seems like you’ve got some competition there little Stevie,” Robin calls out from her seat behind you and Steve’s face turns beat red. The War Zone appears on the right much to Steve’s luck, effectively ending the conversation. Nancy decides that you, her, Steve, Robin, Erica, and Max should all go in to pick out weapons. You file out of the camper and through the glass doors, overwhelmed by the amount of people crowding the aisles. You beeline for the crossbow section, filling a cart with a new crossbow and as many arrows as you can get your hands on. Robin runs past you as you fill your cart, Steve trying to catch up to her.

“Is she ok?” you ask when she runs through the doors leading outside and he gives up chasing her.

“She’ll be alright. Just saw someone she knows,” he reassures you, looking at the stuff you’ve piled into your shopping cart. You look up, eyes scanning the room to see what else you need when you spot a familiar face.

“That makes two of us,” Steve glances towards you, finding your eyes wide. He turns to see who you’ve spotted but you grab and turn him towards you, trying not to pull the person’s attention your way. “Brent Majors,” you whisper and Steve stares at you in shock.

“No way. That asshole’s here?” you nod, glancing back over in Brent’s direction. Just then Brent’s eyes shoot up, locking with yours.

“Shit,” you try to duck behind Steve, but Brent still sees you and starts heading your way. Panicked, you pull Steve closer. “Kiss me,” you plead, Steve freezes in your grasp.

“What?”

“Brent’s coming over here. He’s always been jealous of you, especially after the Snowball, and maybe if you kiss me he’ll get the idea and-” Steve cuts you off, slamming his lips to yours. It’s better than you remember. Warm lips encasing yours as his chest presses flush against you. Hands trailing down your sides until they find your lower back, pulling you as close as physically possible. You don’t want to pull away, but you’re also painfully aware that you’re now making out with Steve Harrington in a weapon supply store at what very well might be the end of the world. Your hands gently push his chest back when you hear a throat clear beside you. Erica stands next to you with a small look of panic on her face and Brent Majors is nowhere to be found.

“We gotta go,” she gestures over her shoulder to Jason and his basketball goons rifling through the shelves. You nod, quickly pushing your cart over to the checkout area and getting out of the store as quickly as possible with Steve following behind. Steve bursts through the camper doors helping you throw everything you bought inside and making sure everyone else is back and seated before driving off. You end up parked in a field, all the others split off into groups as you stand alone near the trees, testing out the crossbow. Aiming for the tree branches, you shoot over and over, hitting them perfectly almost every time. Your mind keeps trailing back to Steve. The feel of his lips on yours, all the soft touches from the last few days, what Eddie said earlier. Giving in to your racing thoughts, you head over towards the camper where Steve sits with Robin making Molotov cocktails.

“Can I talk to you?” you ask, Steve’s head shooting up to look at you. He nods right away, turning back to Robin.

“You’ll be alright doing this by yourself, right?” Robin nods and Steve stands, opening the door to the camper for you to step inside. He follows behind you, closing the door and sitting next to you on the bench in the back. You close the curtains, shielding the bright sun from your eyes. “Look, I know that you’re mad about everything and you have every right to be, but please let me explain,” he starts, careful to put some space between you.

“No. Not yet. I have to tell you something first,” you look at him, his soft caramel eyes searching over you.

“Ok, tell me,” he says, nodding his head. So, you do.

After the incident on the floor, something had changed between you and Steve. You weren’t quite dating, or at least no one had explicitly said so, but you also were definitely more than friends. No one really knew what was going on between the two of you, but you sort of liked it that way. It was almost as if it was just you and Steve in your own little world. He had his head resting in your lap, letting you lazily trace your fingers through his hair. There were only two more weeks left before the summer, not that you could tell based on the weather. It was too hot outside to do anything. Even the thought of walking the few feet between Steve’s house and the pool in his backyard made you sweat. So you stayed inside, enjoying the A/C and lounging around. Steve had fallen asleep about ten minutes ago, looking so peaceful and calm in your lap. You lean down, placing a small kiss to his lips, making his eyes shoot open.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake-” you’re cut off by Steve pulling you down for another kiss. This one is deeper, more passionate than the peck you initially gave him. Steve shifts beneath you, sitting up and pulling you to straddle his lap. His kisses are warm and fiery, lighting a heat in you that only his touch could bring. Steve tugs on your shirt and without a second thought you lift it up over your head, revealing your bare chest. His eyes widen at the sight and his shirt comes off next, joining yours where it now lays on the floor. You grind into his lap, chasing the same feeling you had that day on the floor.

“Stevie,” you whimper, his hips snapping up to meet yours. His eyes swim with lust and love, finally about to feel you in a way he’s wanted to for so long.

“Baby, Honey, I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” his words come out in breathy moans beneath you. Steve’s fingers coming up to play with your nipples. “I don’t wanna rush though. Wanna take my time with you,” he continues thrusting against you and you let out a loud moan.

“I know Stevie, but I need you. Need you so bad right now,” Steve stops grinding up into you, so unbelievably turned on. You sit up, removing your shorts and panties, allowing Steve to do the same. Now you sit, completely naked on your best friend’s lap. A small giggle escapes your lips at the thought, a giggle that Steve returns, feeling the exact same way as you. He pulls you closer to him, cutting off the giggles with his lips against yours. His fingers reach down to your entrance, teasing around the outside before gently dipping in. A gasping moan pulls from your chest as Steve pumps his fingers in and out of you a few times.

“You’re so wet for me already, baby,” his lips latch onto your neck, relishing in the sound of your moans.

“Stevie, feels so good, but I need you in me,” Steve nods, slipping his fingers from you and taking them in his mouth to suck your juices off. He groans at the taste, popping them from his mouth and lining himself up with your entrance. Steve enters you slowly, sinking you down onto him as you wrap your arms around his neck and press your chest to his. You both moan as he bottoms out, wasting little time before Steve starts to pound into you from below.

“It’s like you were made for me, fuck,” Steve moans out and you clench around him. He increases his speed, thrusts getting sloppier, but you couldn’t care less. You’re on the edge of your orgasm, about ready to tip over. “Fuck, I love you, Honey,” Steve rushes out, giving one last hard thrust before spilling himself into you. The combo of Steve’s orgasm and his words pushes you to the edge, letting out a gasp of Steve’s name as he pulls you back a little from where you cling to his chest. His eyes watch you as you reach your peak. A whole range of emotions rush through him at the sight, but mainly lust and love.

“I love you too, Stevie,” you finally say when you’ve come down from your high. He pulls you back into him, wrapping you in a tight hug before leaning back to give you a bruising kiss. He’s still buried deep inside you as he dips his head, littering your chest with hickies. You laugh through your moans, pulling him back up after a few bruises bloom in order to kiss his soft lips again. Eventually, Steve lifts you off of him and you whine at the emptiness. He lays you on his bed about to get up to grab a washcloth to clean you up when he stops. He grabs his Polaroid camera from his nightstand, holding it up to you in a question. You give him a nod and he kneels over you on the bed, taking a picture of you in your fucked out state. Your chest littered with hickies, hair a wild mess, and legs spread out with Steve’s cum leaking from between them.

“I’m so saving this for later when you're gone,” he says, shaking the photo when it pops out from the camera.

“You gonna keep it with your stack of Playboys?” You ask teasingly and he’s taken aback.

“What Playboys?”

“The ones under your mattress,” you pause, leaning up with your elbows. “You know, there’s the one with the picture of a girl in it that kinda looks like me? That page is super sticky by the way, you might want to get a new one,” Steve laughs at you, leaning down to press his body back onto yours.

“I’ve got my new one right here,” he waved the photo over you, leaning in to give you a peck on the lips.

“So romantic,” you respond through his lips, smiling as he gives you kiss after kiss before hopping up to go towards the bathroom.

About a week and a half later there were only three days left before the end of the school year. Pushing through the school’s front entrance, you immediately spot Steve at his locker with Tommy and Carol. You were never a big fan of either of them but got along with them fine enough for Steve’s sake.

“Hey Stevie,” you say, joining them at his locker. His eyes soften when he sees you and he wants nothing more than to kiss you, but he knows Tommy and Carol would tease him for it, so he doesn’t.

“Hey Honey, was just thinking about you,” Tommy wears a shit eating grin as he speaks and you know that it can’t mean anything good.

“Really? What a coincidence then,” you reply, trying to get out of this conversation as quickly as possible. It’s then that you see Steve looking at Tommy as inquisitively as you feel.

“Well you see, ever since I saw this little number it’s been hard not to think of you,” Tommy holds up a Polaroid picture in his hand and you don’t even have to look at it to know what the picture is of. You reach out, grabbing the photo as quickly as you can, looking around to make sure no one else saw. “You finally came through, King Steve. After years of talking about getting her in the sack, you finally did. Kinda sucks for her though, seems like she’s developed some feelings for you,” Tommy lifts his hand for a high five and Carol belts out her witch cackle beside him. You back away, tears springing in your eyes when Steve turns to you.

“Honey, I didn’t-” Steve begins, but you don’t hear the rest. You take off down the hall and out the doors, running directly into Jonathan.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Jonathan asks, seeing the tears in your eyes. You choke out a sob asking him to take you home. Jonathan’s car is pulling out of the school parking lot when you see Steve burst through the front doors, Tommy and Carol snickering behind him. Jonathan pulls up to your house, making you promise to tell him what happened when you feel better before letting you out of the car. You notice your dad’s car is still in the driveway, which confuses you since he should already be at work. Stepping through the door you hear a small sob coming from your parent’s bedroom. Your heart drops, already knowing what you’ve walked into. Fresh tears form in the corners of your eyes when you see your dad laying with his head pressed against your mom’s chest. He hears your footsteps and lifts his head.

“She’s gone, sweetie. In her sleep last night,” your dad sobs out, snot bubbles and tears spilling onto your mother’s nightgown. And that was it. It was too much. Steve and your mom, both gone all at once. After that day you couldn’t think of Steve without thinking of your mom. So, it just became easier to not think of Steve at all. You avoided him, slinking through the shadows at school. Hiding from the hurt that the memories brought you. Insisting on not seeing him again, not even a glimpse, until that night outside the lab when the world nearly ended for the second time.

Steve’s quiet when you stop talking, processing everything all at once. Taking in the information that you’ve had to sit with for nearly three years, while he’s only known it for about a minute now.

“I didn’t know,” his voice is quiet, attention directed towards his hands in his lap. You’d both inched closer somehow while you had been explaining. “I mean, I knew your mom died, but not until a year and a half later. Not until Nancy told me. And even then, she didn’t tell me that it happened that day,” Steve’s eyes meet yours, tears brim his lashes, clearly feeling guilty in some capacity.

“We didn’t really have a funeral for her. Didn’t post an obituary either. If we did then that would’ve made it real, I guess. Dad and I couldn’t really handle that. So, we had her cremated and kept her name out of the paper,” your voice is quiet, but calm. You’ve grown with time, learned to live with loss no matter how much it still aches from time to time. Steve clears his throat, one tear slipping down his cheek. You wipe it away gently, moving your hand back down to your lap.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers and you shrug, as if to say ‘it’s not your fault’. “About the photo,” Steve begins, not really sure how to bring it up. “I didn’t give it to Tommy, I swear. I’m pretty sure he found it the weekend before when we had that end of the year party at my house, remember? Him and Carol went up to my room to-” he stops clearly disgusted at the thought. You let out a small laugh at the look on his face, which blooms into a smile at the sound he missed hearing so badly.

“I figured. Well, not at first, but the more I thought about it, the more I knew you never would've done that,” Steve nods, inching the slightest bit closer, hoping you wouldn’t notice. You did.

“And the stuff he said about me that made it sound like I only wanted to sleep with you, that wasn’t true. I loved you, so so much. I still love you, Honey,” he looks worried as the words spill from his lips, but he keeps his gaze locked with yours.

“I figured that out too. I knew you cared too much about me to just want sex and nothing more. We were practically dating at that point anyway,” you stop, knowing Steve was still waiting to see if you’ll say those three little words. Those barriers you’d built up so long ago to keep Steve out, slowly crumbling down. “And I love you too, Stevie,” Steve smiles, at what you said, at your voice, at the nickname, at your cute little overalls, at you. He surges forward, crashing his lips to yours in a kiss that could set off fireworks in the sky, burn down a brand new mall, save a boy from being possessed, fight monsters, and kill an evil wizard from another dimension. It was everything you’ve felt for the last three years and everything else beyond that. Steve pulls back reluctantly, his chest heaving and his hands on your cheeks.

“Eddie,” he breathes out. “You’re with Eddie,” you shake your head and his eyebrows furrow.

“We were just hooking up, but don’t worry, he told me to go for it,” you say, and Steve gives a small nod before pulling you back into another searing kiss. Clothes are stripped in a hurry, Steve’s hand roaming your body.

“God, I’ve missed you so much,” Steve whimpers, pulling you on top of him, just like before. It’s better than the first time. The two of you are more experienced now since you’ve both slept with other people, but you’re still just as in love, if not more. Steve fits perfectly into you, hitting you just right with every thrust. It doesn’t take long for you to both hit your highs. Coming down in a fit of giggles when a loud knock rattles the door.

“Hey, if you two are done, we’ve got a town to save and a telekinetic to kill,” Robin’s voice filters through the shut door. You share a look with Steve, bursting out into laughter again, getting up to get dressed again. You open the door as Steve sits in the driver's seat. Everyone files in with the weapons and you take the seat across from Steve. He sends you a wink before he takes off, driving away from the field. Max, Lucas, and Erica get dropped off at the Creel house first and Steve continues driving until you get to the woods next to the trailer park. You all go over the plan again, leaving the camper to enter Eddie’s trailer and go into the Upside Down the same way you came out of it no more than 24 hours before. Once you’re all through the gate, everyone goes outside the trailer and Steve stops, giving you, Dustin, and Eddie a lecture about not being heroes. He pulls you to the side so the others can’t hear.

“I still don’t feel good about you staying behind. You should come with us, these two can handle themselves,” Steve looks worried at the prospect of leaving you.

“Are you kidding? They need all the help they can get,” you say, hearing a soft ‘hey’ from Dustin. Ok, so maybe they’re not quite out of earshot.

“It’s just, I just got you back. I don’t want to lose you again.”

“You won’t, Stevie. I promise,” you pull him in by his shirt, kissing him passionately. A few wolf whistles sound off beside you, but you couldn’t care less, flipping them off before you pull away. “Good luck,” you push him back towards Robin and Nancy, the goofy smile on his face from your kiss slowly returning to his more serious expression from before.

“Make him pay,” Eddie calls out to Steve, who nods in return, giving you one last look and setting off towards the Creel house. You, Dustin, and Eddie make quick work of boarding up the trailer and setting up Eddie’s amp. Eddie starts playing Master of Puppets by Metallica, a song he hasn’t shut up about since it first came out. Eddie’s killing it as you and Dustin both listen along, keeping an eye out for the bats. When they’re close enough, the three of you barricade yourselves in the trailer. It seems to work at first but they start to break through. Dustin jumps through the gate and you’re about to as well when Eddie takes off muttering something about buying more time.

“Eddie!” you shout following after him as he bursts through the front door, grabbing a bike and peddling away quickly, drawing the bats away from the trailer. You take the crossbow from your back, unloading arrow after arrow into the bats swarming around him. Dustin pops up behind you, swinging his staff at the bats surrounding the two of you, protecting you both while you protect Eddie. A bat knocks Eddie off his bike and others start to swarm around him. You and Dustin creep forward as Eddie stops running away and tries to defend himself. Eddie gets pelted to the ground, a bat taking a bite out of his side before you can shoot it. You take out the others that swarm around Eddie as he keeps trying to smack them away. Suddenly in some kind of miracle they all drop to the ground. Dustin sprints over to Eddie with you close on his heels. He’s still sprawled out on the ground, but not bleeding too badly.

“I’d offer you my flannel to cover that up, but Stevie beat you to it,” you offer him a hand to sit up which he gladly accepts, placing a hand over the wound with a slight wince.

“It’s not too bad, could be way worse,” he removes his bandanna from his head, pressing it to the wound and standing all the way up. “Is it too late for me to take back what I said about you and Harrington earlier? The sight of you with the crossbow has me all hot and bothered,” you give him a light shove as Dustin gags from beside you.

“Shut up, Munson,” the boys are about to follow you back over the trailer when the ground starts to shake. They both grab onto you, trying not to fall as the ground cracks open, right through the trailer. From then on it’s all a blur. Between Steve, Robin, and Nancy meeting up with you, explaining what happened with Vecna, going back through the gate that now stretched across town, getting Max to the hospital, and finding a better hiding spot for a now patched up Eddie, it all floods together. It isn’t until two days later, when a van with a surfboard on top pulls up in front of Nancy’s house that everything begins to clear up a bit. Out of the van comes Will, Mike, Eleven, Jonathan, and someone else that you don’t know. You wait your turn for Jonathan to hug Nancy before getting over to you. Will’s next, squeezing you tightly and you realize how much he’s grown since you saw him last. El throws her arms around you and your hands find her freshly shaven head. She laughs when you tell her that you’ll figure something out to help her hair grow out faster. Mike approaches you last, enveloping you in his long arms.

“You know,” you say when he pulls back. “A little birdie told me you’ve got a thing for me. Better not let El find out. I’d hate to see what she’d do to you now that her powers are back,” his smile falls and his face is overcome with anger.

“Dustin!” he shouts, going over to the boy, berating him loudly. You laugh while watching them argue back and forth. Steve comes up next to you, slinging his arm around your shoulder and letting out a chuckle.

“You had to tease him about it?” Steve smiles over at you and you place a hand on his chest.

“Will looked a little upset and I can guarantee he’s the reason why, so he kinda deserves it,” Steve laughs, rolling his eyes and placing a kiss on your lips. When the reunions are done, you pile into the car with boxes full of donations. You, Steve, Dustin, and Robin enter the high school gym, quickly dropping off the donations and finding places to help out. Robin is making pb&j’s and Dustin is talking to Wayne Munson while you and Steve sort through clothes. You hear Robin talking to a girl at the sandwich station and it all clicks.

“Oh,” you breathe out, Steve’s eyes following yours. “I get it now,” you grab for the shirt Steve is trying, and failing, to fold.

“Get what?”

“A few days ago at the library. Robin kept going on and on about how you’re not her type and that she’d rather let humans die off than be with you,” you nod your head towards her and the other girl. “I get it now and you definitely aren’t her type.”

“She really said that? Some wing woman she is,” Steve mutters and you chuckle at him, pulling his face towards you to place a soft kiss on his cheek. It’s then that you hear murmurs erupt over by the big windows. You wander over with Steve and Robin close behind you. What looks like snow falls from the sky, but you’ve seen this stuff enough to know it’s not snow. Steve’s hand finds yours, squeezing it tightly in his warm grasp. You look at him and he looks back at you. His expression says all the same things that you're thinking. That whatever’s next, you can make it through. Together. You can do anything as long as you have Steve beside you. Your best friend. Your boyfriend. Your something. Your everything.

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