#Nancy Caroll

[thestobingirlie]

i don’t care what anyone else says, THIS is carol and steve’s dynamic

they were insane girl besties, and every time people make her “just tommy’s girlfriend”, an angel dies. just fyi

[estrellami-1]

Steddie Week 2024

July 5th Prompt: Reunion

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 6 | Day 7

@steddie-week

“Babe,” Eddie calls from the kitchen. Steve’s in the bathroom, brushing his teeth, so he garbles out an unintelligible one minute! before quickly finishing.

He walks into the kitchen, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “What’s up?”

Eddie’s eyes are dancing with mirth as he helps Steve fix his collar. “You’ll never guess what just came in the mail.”

Steve raises a brow. “You’re acting like my parents are groveling at the door right now.”

Eddie barks out a laugh. “Oh, sweetheart, no. I’d very much be laughing in their faces if that’s what was happening.” He grabs Steve’s glasses from the counter he’d forgotten them on last night, unfolds them, and carefully slides them on Steve’s face. “No migraines,” he murmurs, and Steve’s hit with a rush of love so big he just has to tell Eddie.

“I love you.”

Eddie smiles softly; a small, disbelieving, hopeful thing that’s never changed from the first time Steve said it. “And I, my love,” he murmurs back. “But no, it’s not your parents.” His grin grows into a giggle. “It’s fuckin’ Hawkins High.”

Steve makes a face. “It’s still standing?”

Eddie snorts. “Apparently-fucking-ly.” He grabs two letters; one with Steve’s name, one with Eddie’s. “One letter for each of us. I already opened mine. It’s a reunion.”

Steve furrows his brows, rips into the envelope, pulls the paper out. “Hawkins High School… forty-year reunion… de-” he frowns up at Eddie. “Decennial?”

Eddie hums, nods. “Every ten years. God knows where our other ones went.”

Steve hums. “Guess we can throw these in the trash, huh?”

Eddie shifts. “You don’t want to go?”

Steve stares at him incredulously. “You do? You, Eddie Munson, want to go back to the place where—and these are your words, here—apart from our group of friends, only the- the backwoods of inbreeding resides?”

Eddie cackles. “Oh yeah, I did say that, didn’t I?” He’s delighted. Steve’s finding it hard not to smile in the face of that joy.

“So you want to go back?”

Eddie shrugs. “Think about it,” he requests. “I don’t want to go to see how anyone else is doing. Frankly, I don’t have the time to give two shits about them. But you know I’ll always jump at the chance to show you off.”

Steve raises both eyebrows this time. “You want to show me off? In fucking Hawkins?”

Eddie deflates. “You don’t want to go.”

Steve shakes his head. “No, babe, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that even though it’s legal, even though we’re officially married now, if there’s one place that isn’t gonna be accepting…” he trails off, lets Eddie finish the thought for himself.

“What if I convince Nancy to come?”

“Well, she’ll have to come if we go, won’t she? Cause you know she’ll go anywhere Robin does, and Robin’s gonna follow me, so…”

Eddie snickers. “Okay, yeah, fair enough. But babe, we’ll have Nancy and Robin on our side. The three of you took on Vecna, I think you can take on some overweight, washed-up, balding fifty-something-year-old.” He squeezes at Steve’s biceps, and Steve tries not to preen.

He’s proud of the care he’s shown his body, he’s proud of the way he looks, he’s proud that Eddie likes the way he looks. He can feel his resolve waning, is about to tell Eddie fuck it, let’s go, when his phone rings.

He pats his pockets, looks around for it. “Room,” Eddie supplies, and Steve gratefully peck his cheek before jogging to their room, where it’s laying on his nightstand. Eddie walks in as he answers it, having followed at a more sedate pace. “Hello?”

“Are you going to the reunion?”

“Hey, Robbie,” Steve chuckles, meets Eddie’s eyes. “Yeah, we are.”

“Yes!” She cheers. “You’re the best, we’re getting joint hotel rooms, right?”

He laughs and sits on the edge of the bed. “It’s Hawkins, Robs, I don’t think it has anything quite that fancy.”

Robin groans, loud and long enough that both Steve and Eddie have to stifle their giggles. “But I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“It’s been barely a week, Robbie.”

“That’s what I said!”

He relents. “I know. I miss you too. We’ll see you there?”

“Yeah,” she agrees, and hangs up.

Steve looks at Eddie, amused. “I guess we’d better pack. And you should tell the guys, don’t you have something going on that day?”

“Oh, shit,” Eddie says, and runs to the living room for his phone.

Steve surveys their room and sighs. He calls out to Eddie, “bring me a notepad on your way back, please!”

Eddie does, so he sets to work making a list for everything they need to pack while Eddie types away, postponing his plans.

While they might not get joint hotel rooms, Steve, Eddie, Robin, and Nancy are carpooling back to Hawkins in Robin’s van. She’s driving, Nancy’s in the passenger seat, Steve’s right behind Robin and Eddie’s right behind Nancy. Their luggage is piled precariously in the back, meaning every time Robin turns, the luggage slides from one side of the van to the other. Steve, with his mostly-undiagnosed OCD, flinches every time. And every time, Eddie pats his hand.

Besides the shifting suitcases, it’s a nice ride, even if Steve does grab Eddie’s hand and squeeze, just a hair tightly, whenever they pass the Welcome to Hawkins! sign.

Everyone gets a little quiet, after that. Robin fumbles with the radio, and Eddie perks up. “This song,” he says, practically bouncing in his seat.

Steve snorts. “Iron Maiden,” he tells her.

“The fact that you know that-”

“It gets worse,” he tells her, grinning. “The song is called Wasted Years. I know all the words.”

Robin grins, turns the volume up.

The joke’s really on her, though, because she’s always been good at music, patterns, and she’s singing the chorus with him and Eddie by the time they get to the end of the song, Nancy laughing at them. “So understand,” they sing, Robin glancing in the rearview mirror, Steve looking from her to Eddie and back again. “Don’t waste your time always searching for those wasted years. Face up, make this stand. And realize you’re living in the golden years!”

Steve and Eddie are practically screaming it at each other by the last line. Robin’s given up to join Nancy in laughing at them. Steve joins in as Eddie plays air guitar to the end of the song, collapsing in a laugh when it’s finally over.

“Okay,” Eddie says, grinning. “I think I could take on anything now.”

“Yeah?” Nancy asks, pointing ahead. “You’re ready for the reunion?”

They’d decided, since the last time they took a proper road trip had been too many years ago, they could do it the same day as the reunion.

They’d forgotten how getting old, coupled with the problems every one of them still has from the Upside Down, means they’re all very much sore from sitting in a car for upwards of five hours.

The plan was drive the five-something hours, go to the reunion, crash in the hotel, and drive back home the next day.

Steve hates the plan now and wants to go to the hotel to rest like the old man he’s letting himself be.

However unfortunate it may be, the reunion is today, which means Steve gets to suck it up, say hi to people he probably doesn’t even remember anymore, and then leave.

He hops out of the car and stretches a little, laughing when Eddie attempts the same hop out of the car and almost eats asphalt. “Dumbass,” he mutters. Eddie shoots him a Cheshire grin.

Before long they’re ready to walk inside. Steve takes a breath as he passes through the doors. The hallways are the same, but the lockers are new. It still smells like teenagers and feet, he notices, wrinkling his nose. The things you’ll get nose-blind to, he supposes.

The letters they’d gotten said the reunion was to be held in the gym, so that’s where they head.

Steve didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t a few snack tables along the edge of the room and a single Reunion of ‘85 banner. “Goddamn,” Eddie says from beside him, “depressing much?”

Steve snorts in agreement and walks over to the drink table. If he’s going to talk to people, he’s at least going to have questionable-looking punch while he does.

When he turns after getting punch, he nearly runs into someone. He quickly steps back. “Oh, sorry!” He looks up into the shocked face of Tommy Hagan. He blinks. “Tommy?”

“Steve.”

Steve smiles. “How’ve you been?”

Tommy blinks, like he can’t believe Steve’s being nice to him right now, and that’s when Steve remembers they’d parted on not-so-nice terms. Oh well, he would’ve feigned politeness even if he’d remembered. “I’m good, yeah, uh, how- how’re you?”

“I’m good,” Steve agrees. “Really good. Last I remember you and Carol were dancing around each other, yeah? What happened there?”

“We got married,” Tommy nods.

“Congratulations!”

“And then divorced two years later,” Tommy adds, smirking. Steve winces. “How about you? Last I knew, it was you and Wheeler, ‘cept she cheated on you with Byers, yeah?”

“God,” Steve laughs, “that was so long ago. Yeah, that happened. We talked it through and Nance and I are really good friends now. She’s married to someone else, as am I, but we both keep in touch with Jon, thought he’s out in California now.”

Tommy’s brow raises. “Married? Who’s the lucky girl?”

A presence beside him makes Steve turn to see Eddie grinning at him. “My ears are burning.”

“They should be,” he laughs. “Tommy, you remember Eddie?”

“Munson,” Tommy nods, then does a double take. “Wait, you’re married?”

“As of three years ago now,” Eddie says proudly. “But together for…”

“Thirty-seven years,” Steve provides, smiling at his husband before turning back to Tommy. “Did you ever get remarried after Carol?” Tommy shakes his head.

Eddie whispers in Steve’s ear, “You know he totally had the hots for you, right?”

Steve winces at the blast of static from his hearing aid and quickly shuts it off. “Ow,” he mutters, grinning crookedly at Eddie, who looks apologetic. He quickly signs what he’d whispered, and Steve laughs. “Don’t you remember my initial panic?”

Eddie thinks, back to when Steve had asked him what’s gay versus friendly, becoming increasingly confused when most of the things Eddie ticked off in the gay category were things Steve and Tommy had done that Steve had thought firmly resided in the friendly category. “Oh, yeah.”

Steve snorts, shakes his head, pushes him away. “Go talk to someone else. Rescue Robin, she looks like she needs it.”

“Nah,” Eddie says, “she can hold her own,” but goes anyways after a quick peck to Steve’s cheek. Steve turns the hearing aid back on.

“Man,” Tommy says wonderingly, “what happened to you?”

“Concussions,” Steve answers flatly. “Three of ‘em. Then I grew up.” He sighs, looks down at his cup, then up at Tommy. “Listen, man, about what we used to do-”

Tommy winces. “I know. I had that revelation a while ago, actually, but it was definitely shitty of me.”

Steve smiles, shrugs. “You had a crush on me. It’s not an excuse, but it does make a certain kind of sense you’d react that way, especially considering the kind of home life you had.” He smiles self-deprecatingly. “Feel free to stop listening if the therapist side of me comes out. I swear I’m not trying to, like, diagnose you with anything.”

Tommy’s brows raise. “You’re a therapist?”

Steve hums affirmatively. “Started as a school counselor, if you can believe that.”

Tommy fixes him with a wondering grin. “Y’know? I think I can see it.”

“Do my eyes deceive me,” someone says from their side, draping their arms across Steve and Tommy’s shoulders, pulling them into a hug.

Steve comes face-to-face with Carol. He grins. “Hey, Carol.”

“Hey, you,” she says, raking her eyes over him. “Time’s been good to you.”

“You’re one to talk,” Steve says happily, but its true; she doesn’t look a day over forty, instead of the fifty-odd she is now. “How are you?”

“Can’t complain,” she agrees.

They go through the same song-and-dance, but this time when she asks who he’s married to, he sees Eddie juggling water bottles, talking to a couple of people. “Oh, for-” he mutters, then louder, “Eddie, what in the everloving fuck are you doing?”

Eddie drops a bottle, puts the other two on the table behind him, and jogs over to throw his weight onto Steve. “Making friends.”

Steve snorts, elbows him off. “Say hi to Carol, babe.”

Carol clocks it immediately, based on the twitch of her eyebrow, but only says, “I didn’t peg you two as a couple.”

“Well, yeah,” Eddie snorts, “it was Bumfuck, Indiana in the 80’s.”

Carol tilts her head in agreement, then turns to Tommy and says coolly, “Tommy.”

“Carol,” he replies, tips of his ears red.

Eddie looks between them, then turns a raised eyebrow on Steve, who quickly signs, “Married for two years a while ago. I don’t know any details.”

“He clearly is still into her.”

“I refuse to be a part of whatever you’re planning.”

Eddie pouts. “You’re no fun.”

Carol clears her throat. “Sign language?”

Steve snorts. “Turns out brains aren’t supposed to get banged around. You’ve got a real good chance of messing something up that way.”

Eddie pokes his cheek. “‘S not your fault.”

“Never said it was,” Steve placates.

Carol shakes her head. “How many concussions do you have?”

Steve hums. “Three? Four?”

“Three,” Eddie corrects. “Not that we need to get into it right now.” He gives Carol a tight smile, and Steve hip-checks him.

“Down, boy,” he murmurs with a smile. “I’m alright.” He turns to Carol with a wider smile. “Long story short, the concussions caused irreparable hearing loss. I’m almost completely deaf in my left ear, but I get by.”

“Damn,” Carol says lightly, “life, huh?”

Steve snorts. “You can say that again.” He tilts his head. “How are you?” He asks. “Really?”

She gives him a crooked smile. “Let’s walk and talk.” Steve offers her his arm, which she takes with a laugh.

“How am I,” she muses. “Well I thought I found love, but we imploded two years later. Thank god for prenups, I guess, but at the same time, that made it feel like we were doomed from the start.”

Steve hums. “Eddie and I have been legally married for three years,” he tells her. “Together for thirty-seven. We’ve got prenups. Not because we think we won’t work, but because we want the people we care about to not have to worry about any of that.” He’s silent for a few steps. “I used to think love is out of our control. That we don’t get to decide who we fall for. And maybe, to a certain extent, that’s true. But love is also a choice you make every day. Eddie and I are still in love because we choose to be.”

“You look at each other like you’re on your honeymoon.”

Steve giggles. “And to think we didn’t even have a honeymoon!”

Carol laughs, too, then sobers. “You always were more fortunate in love,” she says. “What do you think? Do we have a chance?”

Steve hums. “I think it’s obvious, just by looking at him, that he’s still into you.”

“No shit.”

“So what’s important is how you feel. Marriage is work, I’m not gonna lie and say it’s not. So are you ready, and I mean really ready, to work for it?”

She works her lower lip. “I think so,” she admits. “But I- I’m also not completely sure I’m straight.”

“Okay,” Steve shrugs. “Do you know what he and I used to get up to?” He shrugs at her look. “I’m just saying, neither is he.”

“I mean, I definitely still like guys.”

“Well duh, you’ve taken more dick than I have and I’m married to a man.”

She snorts. “But women…”

“I know,” Steve says sympathetically. “It’s hard, isn’t it.” He pats her hand. “If you’re ready to try, though, you need to talk to him.” He turns her around, gestures toward Tommy, who quickly looks away, cheeks burning. They both laugh softly.

Carol leans up to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Steve. Let’s keep in touch.”

“Let’s actually keep in touch,” he agrees, handing her his phone. “Where do you live?”

“Columbus for now, but he’s in Dayton.”

Steve hums. “We’re in Detroit.”

“We’ll do phone calls,” Carol decides, laughing.

Steve chuckles, saves her number. “Plan to meet up-”

“Never actually do-”

“Oh, Carol, it’s been so long-”

They both break off into giggles. “You’re fun,” she decides. “I wish we’d kept in touch.”

“To be fair, we competed for title of bitchiest.”

“To be fair, I don’t think we ever grew out of that,” Carol retorted, and Steve snorts, gently shoving her.

“Alright, go get your man, and send mine over here.”

She gently steps on his shoe as she leaves, impish smile in place, and Steve turns only to run into Nancy and Robin. “Hey, guys,” he smiles.

Nancy gives him a look. “Making nice with Carol?”

Steve shrugs, grins at her. “Turns out we were just kids. Who knew, right?”

Just then, Eddie comes up behind him, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist and resting his chin on Steve’s shoulder. “What’re we talking about?”

Nancy smiles at him, wraps an arm around Robin’s waist. “Being kids.”

“That so?” He presses a kiss to Steve’s cheek, pushes back to look at him. “You look lighter.”

Steve hums. “‘S cause I love you.”

“Charmer,” Eddie mutters, turning bright red. “C’mon, seriously.”

“Seriously,” Steve agrees. “I was talking with Carol about her and Tommy, and I told her that why we work is because we work at it.”

“Very true.”

From behind them, someone cautiously asks, “Eddie Munson?”

They both turn, and suddenly Eddie’s scooping her up in a hug. “Ronnie! What the hell are you doin’ here, huh?”

She laughs and hugs him back just as hard. “Did you ever know a Jackson Starnes?”

Eddie’s brow furrows for a second, then smooths out. “Oh, Jackie! Yeah, he was cool.”

“Mhm. He’s my husband.”

“No shit? I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks,” she laughs, then nods at everyone else. “Who’s the hunk you were hangin’ off of?”

Eddie chuckles. “Ronnie, meet my husband, Steve.”

She turns an eyebrow on him. “You got married?”

“He proposed,” Steve corrects her, grinning.

“To the preppiest of jocks,” Robin adds.

Eddie laughs. “What can I say? It’s love.” He swoons, placing a hand over his chest, almost pulling Ronnie over with the arm still over her shoulder.

She laughs and dumps him off of her. Steve swoops in before he can fall, hoisting him up with a quick kiss.

“I’m Nancy,” she says, extending her hand to Ronnie. “And this is my wife Robin.”

“Oh!” Eddie says, literally jumping back into the conversation. “Robin and Steve are like how we were.”

“Platonic soulmates,” Steve agrees.

“With a capital P,” Robin emphasizes.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Ronnie says.

“How’s Wayne?” She asks Eddie.

“Dead.” He snickers at her face. “‘S alright, Ronnie. It’s been years.”

“Still. I can be sorry.”

“You can,” he agrees. “It won’t help anything, but you can.” He digs his phone out of his pockets, opens his contacts app. “Here, lemme get your number, yeah?”

“Fuck yeah,” Ronnie says, “let’s hang out, just lemme know when so I can get a sitter.”

Eddie chokes on nothing. “You have a kid?”

Ronnie grins, a shit-eating thing as she hands his phone back. “Three.”

“Goddamn,” he says, “you got pictures?”

Ronnie rolls her eyes, grabs her phone. “What kind of mom would I be if I didn’t? Here, this is Cassie, Alex, and… that’s Elijah.”

“Oh, man, Alex looks just like Jackie, doesn’t he?”

“I carry him for nine months,” Ronnie bitches good-naturedly. “‘Nough about me, though, how’re you? Corroded Coffin ever take off?”

Eddie snorts. “You hear about the psychopath in ‘86?”

“I remember something about it.”

“Yeah. I got caught in the crossfires, wrongfully blamed, and spent…” he looks at Steve. “A year?”

“Almost.”

He turns back to Ronnie. “Almost a year hiding out. Corroded Coffin was officially disbanded after I was allowed out of hiding.”

“Fuck,” Ronnie says, “there goes my entire foot in my mouth, I guess. What’re you doing now, then?”

He chuckles. “A little bit of everything, honestly. A little music, a little writing, a little D&D. Nothing that’s made me a household name, but enough that I’m kept busy and we’re comfortable.”

Ronnie nods. “And how about you?” She asks Steve.

“Oh, nothing as fun as that,” Steve chuckles. “I’m a therapist.”

Ronnie tilts her head. “Any specialties?”

“C-PTSD, mainly.”

“Damn, I know about eight people who could use someone like you.”

Steve snorts. “That’s usually the way it goes, yeah.”

“Well it was great seeing you, Eddie,” Ronnie says. “And meeting all the rest of you. But I’ve got to find my husband and get back home, so we’ll have to continue this later.”

“Of course,” Steve says. “See you later?”

“Absolutely,” Ronnie nods, then turns and walks off.

They decide to leave not too much later. They’re all tired, so the drive to the hotel is filled with only the sound of the radio, turned almost all the way down.

“Y’know,” Eddie murmurs, tracing the ring on Steve’s finger, “she was my first kiss.”

Steve snorts, an explosive thing that he definitely learned from Robin. “She what?”

“Yup,” Eddie nods. “I knew I liked girls, but she’s the only one I got close enough to to actually know. We got stupid one night and decided to kiss and it basically went how it would if you and Robin were to kiss.”

“Ew,” Steve says on reflex. Eddie snorts.

Robin slaps at him from her seat, then yells when he slaps back, “Don’t distract the driver!”

“Bitch,” he tells her, “you slapped first!”

“You said ew about kissing me!”

“Do you want to kiss me?”

“Hell no!”

“That’s why I said it!”

Eddie leans up to murmur to Nancy, “should we break it up?”

“Eh, give it a minute. Once they resort to cursing their lineages we can break it up.”

He chuckles. “Always the wise one, Wheeler.”

“You’d best believe it,” she nods smugly.

“Nancy!” Robin says. “Baby! Defend me!”

“About kissing Steve? Who I’ve kissed before?”

“Oh, no,” Robin says, horrified. “I’m stuck in the car with the two people who are experts on Steve kissing.”

“Why’d you make it sound like a bad thing?” Steve demands.

And… yeah. Eddie’s glad they got separate hotel rooms.

Based on the look Nancy throws his way when they part, she’s glad, too.

[the-case-book-of-fanfiction]

Bob Seger

Ship: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Is there a handbook for what to do when your crush walks into your store to buy a gift for his girlfriend? There should be!

Word Count: 5,432 words

Warnings: Stancy, Steve being deeply in love and then getting his heart broken, brief mention of Steve's asshole dad, pining reader, hurt/comfort, Tommy & Carol, language, innuendo

Note: Inspired in part by Steve's rendition of Old Time Rock & Roll.

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

Nancy hadn't been herself, not since Barb disappeared, and her mood had only been getting worse every day. Steve could feel her retreating into herself, hiding from the world and from herself and from him. He could feel Tommy and Carol getting progressively more frustrated with her (and with him for putting up with it) with every passing day.

And it's not like Steve blamed Nancy. Her best friend had gone missing while Nancy hung out with people Barb wasn't the biggest fan of. And, to rub salt in an open wound, Nancy had been having sex with Steve while Barb disappeared.

Steve felt a little guilty, to say the least. He'd had the thought of If I hadn't wanted to sleep with Nancy so bad, she would have gone home with Barb and they'd both be safe. But after a while, he wasn't so sure about that. The longer he thought about it, the more he became convinced that if Nancy had gone with Barb, they both would have gone missing.

Whether it was through his own guilt or because he wanted to make Nancy feel better, he wasn't quite sure, Steve found himself driving to the record store just off Main Street after school got out. He'd blocked out the noise of Tommy and Carol bickering, Tommy in the passenger seat and Carol leaning forward from the back seat, too busy trying to remember which bands had played from the radio the night he was studying at Nancy's house, and whether or not Nancy had actually liked them. He didn't want to screw up his little surprise by getting her music she wouldn't listen to—or a vinyl she already owned. Maybe he should have discreetly snooped through her pile of records before he'd made up his mind to do this...

Tommy sharply elbowed Steve in the ribs. Before Steve could snap at him, he said, "You're overthinking this, man. She's either gonna pretend to love it and not actually care, or she's just gonna not care."

Behind them, Carol giggled. It sounded far more sinister than it should have.

Steve glared at him for a second before he made the turn into the store's parking lot. "You're no help, you realize that?" He parked the car and turned to the two of them. "You're gonna stay here and wait, got it? And don't do anything stupid, I'll make you clean the back seat this time."

Carol grinned. "What if it's the passenger seat?"

"Or the driver's," Tommy added, leaning back to kiss Carol, before Steve could snap that the passenger's seat was Nancy's seat. Steve felt his throat constrict.

"Do not get it on in my fucking car," he warned, "or I'm never driving you anywhere ever again."

He got out, slamming the door behind him, and sent a warning glare back over his shoulder. Tommy flipped him off through the windshield. Beside Steve, an elderly woman gasped in offense and Steve winced.

"Sorry about him," he muttered, but the woman was already scurrying off into her own vehicle. Steve sighed and pushed open the front door to the record shop.

A little bell above the door chimed once as he swung the door open, and then again as it closed behind him. Steve had only been in the store a handful of times, but he loved it more and more with every visit. The walls were plastered in old vinyls, displayed so that the name of each band was readable. No vinyl was the same color, some of them blue, some red, some multicolor, but all of them were different. A small gold plaque designated the oldest vinyl the store had on the walls, which was a reddish Vocalion from 1922 and was positioned directly above the door.

Rows and rows of alphabetized vinyls spread throughout the store, which was bigger than it looked from the storefront. In the lefthand corner nearest the door, a cashier's desk was set up, though there was no employee behind it. A plastic sign read I'm in the back! I'll be back soon!

Steve headed for the aisles of vinyls, then recognized what was playing over the speakers—Bob Seger's Night Moves.

Humming as he flipped through the stacks, Steve didn't notice the door to the back open, or you walk out of it and back to your desk.

"Mmm, sweet summertime, summertime," Steve sang, keeping his voice low, still embarrassed by his voice, an instinct his father made sure he would never shake.

But you heard it, even with the volume of the radio. You looked up from the desk, gaze scanning the rows. You spotted the back of Steve's head and recognized him immediately. That hair was unmistakable.

Heat burned in your belly. Suddenly, you really wished your coworker hadn't gone home just ten minutes earlier, complaining of nausea. If she'd just stuck around a few more minutes...you wouldn't have to face your long-time crush who was absolutely not available, happily dating Nancy Wheeler and unlikely to leave her any time soon.

You resisted the urge to hide your face in your hands. Sure, you'd liked him since middle school, long before he'd become part of the popular crowd and back when his hair was still a mess that hid his eyes from the world, and yes, you had two classes with him, but it's not like he'd know who you were, right? You'd keep relative anonymity and he would remain none the wiser of your long-standing admiration of him.

But then the song changed to The Fire Down Below and Steve was shimmying where he stood, singing the line "Here comes hot Nancy, she's steppin' right on time" with the hugest grin on his face.

You sighed. The school, your best friends, the entire senior year was right—Steve Harrington was down bad for Nancy Wheeler.

The tiniest bit of hope that he might one day notice you was dashed every time you heard that loving croon of his voice every time he sang Nancy's name.

This is why we don't get our hopes up, you told yourself, echoing a sentiment your best friend had drilled into you ever since Steve became the ladies' man that made him so popular in high school. Not that it erased the previous middle school years of drooling over Steve, back before anyone else had really considered him attractive.

You watched as Steve meticulously went through every record in the store, clearly searching for something specific. You normally would have gotten up and approached a customer taking this long, but it was Steve. You knew the instant you got up from your stool, your legs would give out underneath you. And if that didn't happen, you'd walk into a shelf on your way over to him. And if that didn't happen either, you'd start stuttering the moment you tried to talk to him. And if that didn't happen, you'd turn bright red and combust on the spot when he either asked for your help or turned you away.

Too stuck in your head, you didn't even realize the record had stopped playing until you heard Steve's singing stop. A pang went through you at the sound of silence—Steve's voice was almost more soothing than the music itself.

You turned around and dug through your pile of vinyls the store let you play until you found another Bob Seger—the album he'd released last year. Steve had been singing Bob Seger, and you desperately wanted him to keep singing.

You cleaned off the record before placing the needle down. A few bars into Even Now, you turned back around and squeaked, jumping in surprise.

Steve was standing at your desk, a pleasant but awkward smile on his face.

"Uh...hi," he said. "Sorry if I scared you."

You blinked at him and cleared your throat, hoping your voice didn't come out squeaky. "It's...it's fine. Can I help you with something?"

"Uh, please, I'm looking for—" He snapped his fingers. "You're in my chemistry class, aren't you?" You nodded, meekly adding that you were also in English together, and he beamed. "I knew I recognized you from somewhere!"

"Yeah, uh... Hi, Steve," you said. "You said you were looking for...?"

Steve shook himself out. "Oh, yeah, um... I'm trying to find a record for Nancy, my girlfriend, because I want to cheer her up after...everything. I'm sure you've heard about it."

The tiredness in his voice surprised you. But you nodded without bringing it up. "I have. How's she holding up?"

Steve sighed. "Not...fantastically. That's why I'm doing this, I want to get her something to take her mind off things."

You raised your brows. "So you decided on a record?"

Steve shrugged, his cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. "I thought it would be something we could dance to, and that that might make her feel better."

Your heart squeezed. How are you so sweet? "Alright, makes sense. What does she like to listen to usually?"

Steve shut his eyes as if thinking for a moment, then said, "She likes ABBA and Michael Jackson, she has a Fleetwood Mac tape but only ever listens to Rhiannon, but she sings under her breath every time Journey comes on the radio, doesn't matter what song it is. She's got Madonna, Bowie, Blondie, and The Beatles already as tapes and vinyls, so I don't want to get her those."

You blinked at him. "You really do pay attention to everything, don't you?"

Steve smiled shyly. "I...I guess so, when it comes to Nancy."

You left the back of the desk, hoping you weren't visibly shaking too much. "Let's go find you a Journey vinyl, okay? They just released a new album a few months ago, I'm pretty sure we've got it on vinyl..."

Steve followed you to the J section and the two of you started flipping through, both of you softly singing along to Love's The Last To Know as you did.

Halfway through the song and completely through the Js section, you interrupted the song with a gasp.

"I know where it is! Wait here," you told him, and hurried into the back room. You dug through the most recently delivered box of records until you saw the familiar blue album cover of Frontiers, letting out a victory cry as you grabbed it.

Steve was leaning on the shelf, still singing "We lost our way and our love's the last to know" so mournfully you wondered what heartbreak he'd been through before.

"I got it!" you said, grinning and holding the record aloft.

Steve beamed. "Thanks! I really appreciate it. I know I was kind of...out of my depth for a bit there."

You shrugged. "Eh, that's nothing. I've had people come in here demanding records we don't carry from bands that only just released music." You rolled your eyes. "'No, sir, we don't carry Metallica, and even if we did, the album came out last week, so we wouldn't have it yet anyway!'"

Steve snorted with laughter, handing you cash to pay for the vinyl. "Let me guess, it was the Munson kid."

"The Munson kid," you confirmed.

"Thanks again," Steve said, though he didn't seem inclined to head out the door.

"Any time," you said, instantly regretting the words because if you saw Steve at your workplace more than this, you were going to have a heart attack, but you paired the words with a kind smile anyway.

"See you in class tomorrow," he said, stepping out the door and waving goodbye. You watched him go, putting the record in the back seat, snapping at Tommy and Carol in his car, and pulling out of the parking lot.

You let go a tense, nervous breath. The pain in your chest eased. Well, at least Steve knew of you now. And even if his dedication to Nancy was unfailing, at least you might get to talk to him now, even if it only worsened the ache in your heart.

~❊~

Steve skipped third block.

The entire school seemed to be talking about why—or at least, his entire gym class, who had told a story about Billy Hargrove getting in his face the entire basketball game, and then Nancy dragging him out of the class to "talk" about something. At first, everyone had assumed they were banging in the locker rooms, until somebody reminded them Nancy hadn't been in first block, and she never skipped, and that Steve usually drove her to school—but he hadn't missed first block. Then when he'd come back, upset and angry, from his talk with Nancy, people started to put a story together.

You weren't sure you wanted to believe the story, or the many versions of the story, that were floating around you chemistry class. It didn't line up with what you knew of Steve, or what you knew of his relationship with Nancy, most of which you heard straight from him.

But then again...

You shook yourself out of your head, your gaze straying back toward Steve's empty seat. You sighed, pulling your notebook toward you and copying down the notes on the board as neat as you could—undoubtedly you'd need to give them to Steve when he decided to come back to class.

But when your best friend came into the class, handing your teacher a doctor's note, her wide eyes already told you Steve wasn't coming back today.

She sat down beside you, hissing your name. You looked at her. "What? What's wrong?"

"Is there a reason I just saw Steve Harrington crying in his car?" she whispered to you.

Your eyes went huge. Whatever had happened between him and Nancy, it wasn't good. "Keep your voice down and don't tell anyone else about that," you said.

She flipped her notebook to a blank page and started writing. "You better fill me in on everything I missed today," she said.

"Obviously, but only once I know exactly what happened," you said. "Which means only once Steve tells me what happened. However long that takes."

~❊~

It became painfully clear that Steve didn't want to talk—to anyone. He snapped at anyone who tried to bring it up with him, and his mood was waspish. The situation was made worse by the rumors spread by Tommy and Carol—that Nancy had only been with Steve for his money and the sex; that she left because Steve wasn't good enough for her; that she was cheating on him with Jonathan.

You knew that the jibes about Jonathan hit Steve a little too close to home. The same rumor had circulated last year when Will and Barb went missing, but this time, you were almost positive they were true.

Nancy was entirely unbothered by the whole thing. Seeing her prance around with Jonathan, not caring that doing so was hurting Steve more than anything, made your blood boil.

On your way to the record store for another one of your slow closing shifts, a week after Steve skipped chem class, you saw the two of them walking together along the sidewalk. You rolled your eyes at them. You had once thought Nancy to be the luckiest girl in the world: smart, pretty, and dating the hottest man Hawkins had to offer. Now you were certain she was the most careless, throwing it all away for a mediocre man.

Steve's car was in the store's parking lot when you arrived. You parked next to him, looking over to find him in the driver's seat, staring into his lap.

You got out and knocked on his window. "Steve? You okay?" He looked up, sporting red-rimmed eyes. You could hear Bob Seger's Comin' Home playing quietly on his radio. "Oh, Steve..."

Steve got out of his car. Voice quiet and rough, he asked, "Can I hang out for a while?"

"Yeah," you said. "Whatever you need."

His lip trembled. "A...a hug?" His voice as meek and barely there. But you heard it and the request made your heart break. You enveloped him in a tight hug, letting him soften into your hold. You remained that way until Steve decided he was done, not caring how many of your classmates walked by, staring in wonder at Steve clinging to you, new gossip already burning on their tongues.

~❊~

A good day meant boppier music at the record store as soon as you started your shift and shoved your coworker from the mid-afternoon shift out the door. So you swapped out all the mellow music in the stack of records beside your record player with music with a good beat that you could dance to while you restocked and reshelved.

Not even half an hour into your shift, the Naked Eyes record spun into Always Something There To Remind Me. You turned up the volume as high as you could without destroying the speakers and being chewed out by your managers, singing along and dancing by yourself while you worked.

"Well, how can I forget you, girl? When there is always something there to remind me!" You finished stacking your records in the aisle and turned back for a new pile. "Always something there to remind me. I was born to love her, and I'll never be free, you'll always be a part of— Steve!" You careened into his chest, grateful you weren't holding anything, because it all would have dropped to the floor. Steve's arms looped around you, stopping you from falling. "Don't sneak up on me, you scared me!"

"The doorbell rung!"

"Well, I didn't hear it!" You finally looked up at him, heart beating wildly out of your chest at the feeling of his chest against yours, his arms around your waist. You realized he looked downright miserable. "What happened?"

He sighed. "Remember how I said I was gonna try and patch things up with Nance?"

"Yeah..."

Steve's lower lip started to tremble. "It...it didn't go well."

Your heart dropped to your feet. "Oh, Steve, I'm...I'm so sorry."

He sniffled. "It's, uh, it's over. She...she doesn't love me, has never loved me, I'm still bullshit, and she's been sleeping with Jonathan. So..." He heaved a heavy sigh. "It's over. Completely, totally, officially over."

"Steve," you whispered. "I'm so sorry, honey. Is there anything I can do?"

He smiled, lips trembling and eyes watering. "Change the song?" The words came out with a little hiccup and a laugh.

You realized what the song was about. "Oh! Yeah, sure, right—sorry. It's such an upbeat song in the actual music, I didn't even think about the words!" You untangled yourself from his arms to change the record. "What are you in the mood for?"

"Nothing romantic, please," he said, sitting down on your stool. "And, after you're done..."

You looked at him, sensing his hesitation. "Yeah?"

"Can I have another hug?"

You smiled at him, looping your arms around his back where he sat. He fell into you, burying his head in your shirt. "Of course, Steve."

You held onto Steve as tightly as he held onto you, praying he wouldn't notice the fast beat of your heart while he wallowed in his grief. It was a strange feeling, for Steve to be hiding from the world, form Nancy, from his broken heart in your arms, all while you harbored a horribly deep crush on him and a secret, guilty delight that it was over with Nancy.

"I just..." Steve huffed, clearly trying his best not to sob into your shirt. "I don't know where I went wrong. I don't know why I wasn't good enough."

Without really meaning to, you put your hand in Steve's hair. "Does there need to be a reason? Some people just aren't meant for each other, Steve."

Steve looked up at you with his red rimmed eyes, tears on his lash line. He hesitated a moment and then said, "If I tell you something...promise me you won't just...laugh at me."

Your heart broke for him. How many times had he told Tommy or Carol or, what the hell, even Nancy something, only to be laughed at, for him to ask that of you? "Of course I won't laugh at you, Steve." You squeezed his shoulder. "Why would I laugh at you?"

He didn't answer your question. "I know it sounds...ridiculous, but...I just—" He sighed. "I thought Nancy was the one. I've never been happier with a girl before, and she was honest, she was smart, she was determined, she had goals, she was nothing like the girls I was with before, and she made me feel alive! I thought for sure that I was... That I was maybe gonna spend the rest of my life with her."

You bit your lip. "There was no maybe about it, was there, Steve?"

He sighed, letting his head fall back into you. You muffled your grunt as he hid his face in your stomach, his arms sliding up your back and hold you closer to him. "No," he mumbled into the fabric of your shirt.

You smoothed your hand through his perfect hair and kissed the top of his head. You froze, hearing his tiny intake of breath. "Oh, I'm...I'm sorry, that was kind of...automatic, I guess?"

Steve peeked up at you and tugged you closer to his body until your feet hit the legs of your stool he was perched on. "It's okay. Um... Can you...keep doing that? With my hair?" Pink tinged his skin. "If you don't mind."

"I don't mind," you whispered, rubbing your fingers across his scalp. He sighed, pushing into your touch. Heat bloomed across your body.

"Sorry," he whispered. "I know this is...weird. But, um, Nancy never... Never really touched me or— Or held me or anything, so..."

"You don't have to explain yourself," you whispered. "Not to me, not to anyone. Okay?"

"Okay," he agreed, slowly relaxing in your arms.

"I've got you, Steve," you assured him. "I've got you."

~❊~

Before he'd even pulled into the parking lot, Steve was mentally apologizing to you. You'd told him time and time again when he visited you while you were working that you enjoyed your slow closing shifts. It meant there was no one to bother you while you were in the middle of a restock, making you forget where you were; it meant there was no one to complain about the music you played, so you could listen to whatever you wanted; it meant your final hour was spent just closing up shop instead of shooing customers out the door—except for Steve, who had become a regular and always stayed until you left, sometimes to give you a ride home and other times just to have a friend around.

But today, he wasn't coming alone. His car was full to bursting with young children: Dustin, Max, Lucas, Mike, and Will, all of whom he'd been tasked with picking up from their after school activities for the day. He had tried to get them to go home quickly, but his attempts to rush them out of his car had led them to discover that he was seeing a girl, which they all took the wrong way, of course.

Sort of.

Now that Steve was prowling the world alone again, he'd realized his initial estimation of you—pretty, smiley, shy with new people but confident with your friends—was right, but it was a muted reality compared to how you really were. It was like he'd been looking at you with sunglasses covering his eyes this whole time. Now that those glasses were gone, the record shop girl had become more than just his best friend.

And he was really hoping the kids were not about to point that out.

As per usual, you were playing Bob Seger when Steve pushed the door open. He'd yet to figure out if you played Bob Seger so much when he came to visit because you loved Bob Seger, or if you had (correctly) pinned Steve as a fan.

(Not that Steve had ever told anyone he was a fan; he let them think the only reason he even knew about his music was because of Carol's obsession with Risky Business.)

You weren't at your desk like Steve had expected; you were carrying a huge stack of records in your arms, shelving them as you walked along the rows, singing along to Sunspot Baby without a care in the world.

"Sunspot baby," you sang. "She sure had a real good time."

"I looked in Miami, I looked in Negril," Steve joined in. You turned with a grin, heading back to your desk. "The closest I came was a month old bill."

You noticed the kids as you put down your stack. "You brought company today, I see."

Steve gave you a look while the kids were still behind him. You stifled a giggle. "Uh, yeah, these are the kids. Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair, Max Mayfield, Will Byers, and Mike Wheeler."

Dustin walked straight up to your desk. "So you're the girl Steve talks about all the time?"

"All the time, huh?" you said, smiling in a way that suggested you were sure Dustin was exaggerating.

"Every time we see him," Mike groaned. You stared at the younger Wheeler in surprise.

"Oh, really? Is that so, Steve?" you teased.

He rolled his eyes, unable to stop his blush. "Sorry to interrupt your quiet shift. They wanted to stop in and grab some records."

"No we didn't—we just wanted to meet you," Lucas said. Steve's calm expression became painfully forced.

The young redhead snorted. "Speak for yourself." She looked up at you expectantly. "Do you have any David Bowie?"

You grinned. "I like you, you have good taste. Back side of the first row."

Max grinned and dragged Lucas with her.

You looked back at Steve. "Do you have enough room in your car for one more?"

"Need a ride when you leave?"

You nodded.

"Yeah, I've got room. I'll just make the kids rearrange."

You laughed. "You don't have to do that," you insisted.

Steve leaned across the counter. "Don't worry about it—I want to. I'd feel terrible if I left you to get home on your own."

You smiled at him, noticing Dustin nudging Mike and Will and pointing in your direction out of the corner of your eye.

~❊~

Somehow, the kids' presence lightened up the rest of your shift. Time passed quickly with them there, adventuring through the store and asking you question after question about the vinyls lining the walls.

You waved off Steve as he tried to get the kids to leave you alone. "They're fine, Steve. It's okay. You wanna help me get everything packed up? I've gotta lock up soon."

"Oh, yeah, sure." Steve took the vinyl off the record player and slipped it back into its case. He glanced over his shoulder and called to the kids, "Hey, guys! We're gonna head out soon."

You ran through your closing tasks as quickly as you could, anxious to head home for the night.

"Alright, everybody out. Got everything?" you asked, ushering the kids to the door and taking out the key. You set the alarm system for the building and locked the door behind you.

Steve put a hand on your back. Warmth bloomed through you from where he touched you. "You're all ready to go?"

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak.

The kids opened the doors of Steve's car, jumping in quickly. Dustin made his way to the passenger's seat. Steve stopped him, gently shoving him toward the back seat with everyone else.

"Hey—move it, Henderson, she's got the passenger's seat."

You stared at Steve. "No, no, it's okay, he can—"

Steve shook his head, holding open the door for you. "Come on, it's fine, just..." He gestured into the car. The kids whispered and giggled at him. He sent them a glare and Dustin's annoyed face shifted into a gleeful smirk.

You got in the front seat, unaware of the glances being exchanged in the back or the glare Steve was giving them.

"Seat belts!" Steve said as he got into the driver's seat. You giggled at him as the kids groaned. You caught the way his face lit up when he looked at you, and butterflies tickled your insides.

Once the kids had listened and all were buckled, Steve pulled out of the parking lot and started his way through Hawkins, dropping them off one-by-one: Will first, on the outskirts of town, his mother waiting at the door; Max, who was relieved the Camaro wasn't in the driveway; Dustin next, his new cat sitting on the front step; Lucas, who was immediately met with his snarky young sister; Mike last, Nancy already at the door—saying goodbye to Jonathan.

You glanced at Steve. "You alright?"

Steve looked at you, releasing a deep sigh. "I'm okay," he said. "I...I'm doing better now."

"Good," you said. "You deserve it."

Steve gave you a curious look before he said, "Let's get you home, right?"

"Right."

And if Steve drove slower the whole way back to yours compared to driving the kids home, you weren't going to say anything.

When he got back to your house, Steve pulled into the driveway and sighed. "Well. Home sweet home," he said.

You looked at Steve with a smile. "Thanks for the ride home." You picked up the bag you had put on the ground. You got out, then stopped yourself before you could close the door. You crouched to look at him in the car. "Hey, Steve?"

"Yeah?" Was it just your imagination, or did he sound nervous?

You took a deep breath. Now or never.

"I talk about you all the time, too."

For a moment, Steve processed your words. Then his eyes went wide. Hope bloomed on his slack-jawed face. "You..." He bit his lip, holding back a smile. "You mean that you..."

"Yes, Steve," you said, voice quiet. "Always have. Just ask my friends—they'll give away my secrets just as quickly as Dustin gave away yours." You drummed your fingers against the roof of his car. "Do with that what you will. It's up to you if...you want to even acknowledge it or not." You closed his door and started for your front door.

A door squeaked and then slammed shut moments later; running steps approached you.

"Wait!"

You turned as Steve's hand fell on your shoulder, pulling you close to him. He yanked your body close to his, his arms sliding around you, his hands gripping your shoulder blades. For a split second, you reveled in his hug, noticing the difference in it, relishing in the love in his arms instead of the misery.

Those few seconds became nothing as Steve pulled back. You gave a sound of protest, quickly squashed by Steve's lips.

Your heart had stopped beating, but was simultaneously pounding. You moved on instinct, looping your arms around his shoulders, yanking him down to you. Never once did your lips part from his as the two of you grappled to hold each other in the best way possible.

Thunder boomed overhead. You gasped, pulling apart.

"Was it supposed to storm?" you asked.

"I didn't think so," Steve said.

You kissed him again. Steve smiled into the kiss.

"You should get home before it pours," you whispered against his lips. But neither of you made any move to let go of each other.

Steve adjusted so that his head was against yours, his mouth at your temple. "See you tomorrow in class, then?"

You hummed. "Yeah. Tomorrow."

Steve pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I don't wanna leave."

You looked up at the sky, watching the already-grey skies grow darker as storm clouds rolled in. "We're going to get soaked if we stay out here, Steve."

Steve squeezed you tightly. "Tomorrow, then." He kissed your forehead again. "I'll see you tomorrow...sweetheart."

You beamed at the nickname while Steve blushed while he gave you the moniker.

"And to think," you whispered. "You'd known me all this time, but this? This happened all because you stopped in my store one day."

Steve hugged you tight to his chest. "I wish I'd noticed you before, sweetheart, really I do."

You kissed him. "Well, you've noticed me now." Light rain started, dusting Steve's hair until it sparkled. "Now go, before that pretty hair of yours gets ruined."

He grinned, brushing his hand through it. "I knew you liked my hair."

"Always have." You pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "Always will."

☞ ❊ ☜

Stranger Things // Steve Harrington

part 2? lmk!

Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the S.H. taglist!} @ohatropa@nix-rose@live-the-fangirl-life

[augustjustice]

I’m a big fan of Steve “queer all along but didn’t realize it” Harrington, but in the most specific way possible, which is this: Steve was in quasi-poly queerplatonic relationships with both Tommy and Carol and then Nancy and Jonathan without knowing it. 

Like, Steve and Tommy grew up as close friends, and when Tommy started dating Carol in junior high, Steve just...kept hanging out with him, but now as a trio rather than a duo. Thirdwheeling on dates without ever thinking anything of it, attached at the hip. 

And, so, when Steve and Nancy started dating, Steve really didn’t see anything wrong with the fact that Jonathan sometimes ended up tagging along on their dates, both at Nancy’s invitation to make it a group hang out and sometimes an invite from Steve himself. 

Though nothing explicitly non-platonic ever happened, it’s only later, when Steve looks back on it, that he realizes 1) that he’d had crushes on Tommy and Jonathan he hadn’t recognized as such and 2) there was something eyebrow-raising, in most people’s eyes, about inviting a third person to tag along on your date. 

(He hasn’t broken pattern yet, though. Because now he has Eddie and Robin, his boyfriend and platonic soulmate respectively, and Robin frequently ends up crashing his dates with Eddie. Everyone is fine with this.)

[peachyygoblin]

Sweet 4 Pete🍬🏹

[steviesbicrisis]

Steve Harrington (Taylor's version)

Tracklist: 1. A Place in this world 2. Fifteen 3. Enchanted 4. State Of Grace 5. I Know Places 6. Out Of The Woods 7. Delicate 8. The Archer 9. It's Nice To Have A Friend 10. This Is Me Trying 11. The 1 12. Peace 13. Tis The Damn Season 14. You're On Your Own Kid

I am so happy with how this project turned out. I made this with my official Taylor Expert™️ and bestie @hairstevington, so if you liked this you better go give her some love as well!! Let me know which Steve Era is your favorite!

[sapphicstevents]

Something new...

Hello there!! 💗

We are so excited to present the Stranger Things Sapphic Mini Bang, designed to bring authors and artists together in celebrating sapphic ships! 🏳️‍🌈👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

If this is for you, please let us know by filling out this interest form! This is not a commitment to joining the event. It is only for us to guage how many people may be interested. Official sign-ups will open in April.

Please refer to this document for more information. It will be updated as we move forward.

Otherwise, feel free to reach out with any questions or concerns.

Send us an ask!

Submit a question to our CuriousCat (to be answered on twitter)!

Send us an email at sapphicst@gmail.com

Or dm moderators @maraschinobomb or @mirandaranda

We hope you guys are as excited about this event as we are, and we can't wait to begin! 💗

Sign-Ups Are Now Open!

[momotonescreaming]

You can blame the STWG for this one. T | 743 words | Established Stomarol

“Did you hear that Wheeler chick has a crush on you?” Tommy says absent mindedly, looking over at Steve from his place reclining on his bed, throwing a baseball into the air. It’s casual, effortless, in one smooth motion. Steve follows it with his eyes, the curl of Tommy’s hand, the flick of his wrist, the expanse of freckled skin on display as his sleeve rides up. Lets his gaze drift across his body, from his hands to his arms, to his chest and up to his face. Soaking it all in. He gets to look, knowing Tommy’s looking back.

“No way, Tommy.” Steve snorts, although not unkindly. He picks up one of Tommy’s tapes, stops flicking through the stack, and focuses his attention on him. “Stop kidding around. There’s no way I’m her type.”

“I’d argue you’re everyone’s type,” Tommy smirks, throwing the baseball again, catching it in such a way he can show off his biceps. The flex of muscle. He knows Steve will look. Wants him to, in fact. “You’re mine. You’re Carol’s.”

And oh, Steve thinks. Isn’t that nice to hear. A warmth spreads inside him, sweet and sticky like honey, coating his insides. He belongs to Tommy, and Carol, and TommyAndCarol — and they belong to him in return. He grips the tape tighter, feeling the plastic creak underneath the palms of his hands, his calloused fingers. “Well in that case I don’t need to worry about if I’m anyone else’s type. I’ve already got the only two that matter.”

The flush immediately spreads across Tommy’s cheeks, pink and pretty and perfect as it smothers his freckles. Steve likes having this affect on him. Didn’t think he would, didn’t think this was an option, but now that he has it he doesn’t want to let it go.

“That so?” Tommy replies, letting the baseball drop off the side of his bed. It thumps against the carpet, but neither of them care where it lands. He doesn’t look, doesn’t worry about it hitting anything, just keeps his eyes on Steve. Inhales, polo shirt straining against his chest, legs propped up on the bed. Lets his legs dip, spreading wider, jeans pulling against him. Bites his lip, just slightly, drawing Steve’s eye to the pink plush of his lips.

“I don’t think you need a reminder,” Steve says, voice dropping low, licking his lips as he looks over at Tommy, displaying himself for Steve. Waiting. Like something ready to be eaten. He puts the tape down on top of Tommy’s dresser, not looking, still focused on Tommy. Steps towards the bed, watching the bob of his throat as Steve towers over him. “Do you?”

“Well maybe I want a reminder.” Tommy replies, his own voice getting lower, quieter, just for them. They’re in their own little bubble here, they’re safe, they’re together. “Can you show me, baby? How much I’m yours?”

“If you insist,” Steve replies, crawling onto the bed, knees digging into the mattress. Doesn’t stop until he’s hovering over Tommy, hands above his head, knees in between his, hair falling into his face as he looks down at him. Looks at Tommy’s flushed face, his bitten lips, the way his breath catches in his throat as Steve’s gets closer.

He watches as Tommy’s eyes flutter shut as he leans down to kiss him. Inches their bodies closer, feels the heat building between them. The slick slide of lips, the musky inhale of his cologne, merging sweetly with his own. With their sweat and the scent of them.

Steve brushes his hands across the mattress, smoothing down the comforter, as his hand seeks Tommy’s. Clutching tightly as they meet, fingers entwining together as they kiss and kiss and kiss.

“When’s Carol getting here?” Steve whispers into Tommy’s mouth, letting him swallow the sound. Pushing his body down onto Tommy’s, grinding ever so slightly. Smiling as Tommy groans and spreads his legs wider, opening up his hips. Creating the perfect space for Steve.

“Soon.” Tommy mumbles back, his free hand clutching Steve’s back, rucking up the fabric and drawing him closer.

“Good.” Steve replies, hovering above him, panting, catching his breath. Looks down at Tommy, as he looses himself in his kisses. In the sweet friction they’re building together.“ Lets give her a show for when she gets here then, yeah?”

“Oh fuck yeah,” Tommy replies, surging up to kiss him. Wet, and deep, and exactly what Carol likes to see.

[Part Two]

[atimeofyourlife]

Steve loved people easily. Too easily. He thought there was something wrong with him, because no one ever seemed to love him back in the same way.

The first time he loved anyone was his parents. It was the natural, unconditional love that a child would hold for their parents. Even from a young age, he would do anything he could to make them happy, make them proud. For the first few years, it seemed to work. His mother would show him off to her friends, who would coo over how adorable he was. His father would brag to his associates about how good Steve was, how he would grow up to be strong, athletic, smart. Occasionally, he'd be left with a babysitter, or his grandparents, for a weekend if his parents had to attend a conference, but it wasn't enough for him to feel left behind.

That changed shortly after he turned four. His parents decided he was old enough to be left with nannies most of the time, so they could travel whenever to fit the needs of the business. Even when they were home, which was often little more than a week out of each month, most of the childcare was passed off to the nannies. They didn't seem to care enough to talk about, or even to him anymore. Any attempt he made to show them love was met with "Not now, Steven," or "Don't be so childish, Steven." And as he got older, they cared less and less. After he turned nine, they decided he was old enough to look after himself outside of that one week each month, only having the housekeeper checking in on him twice a week when cleaning the house and restocking the groceries. By the time he was twelve, the amount of time they were home had dropped to one week every two months, and they started missing holidays, coming home two days after Thanksgiving, and then not being home again until well into the new year. He was thirteen the first time they forgot his birthday.

Once he'd turned fifteen and got his learner's permit, they cut the housekeeper. He was more than old enough to take care of the house on his own, and as he could drive, he could get the groceries himself. They'd leave money each time they were home, a little over what was enough for the two months of groceries. A few days before they were due home, they'd call with a list of groceries they expected to be stocked by the time they got back. They actually remembered his sixteenth birthday, buying him a brand new BMW to replace the small second-hand black car they'd got for him to learn to drive in. But they missed the date by six weeks.

At eighteen, he only saw or heard from them if there was something they weren't happy about. Like his poor grades, or not getting into college. They didn't bother to acknowledge his graduation, taking the attitude that it didn't matter as he wasn't going to be making anything of himself. They made him get a job to cover his own expenses, believing that he needed to take life seriously if he wanted their help. They didn't even make the time to come home after hearing he'd been injured in the mall fire. Just leaving him a message saying that they'd give him a two-month grace period before he would be expected to find another job.

He hadn't even reached nineteen the last time he heard from them. After the earthquake he got a call, not to find out if he was injured, just to find out if the house was ok. A couple of days after that, they called again to inform him that they'd found a new house and movers would be coming in to collect the rest of their belongings. They'd wanted to sell the house, but the property market in Hawkins was nearly impossible after everything that had happened, so they were going to sign it over to him. It was after the movers had left Steve realized, they hadn't even left a forwarding address or their new number.

------

Steve loved each of his babysitters and nannies until he realized that they were being paid to take care of him. They gave him a love and attention that he didn't receive from his parents. They cared enough to let him ramble about his day. They spent enough time with him to know his likes and dislikes. To keep track of his hobbies. They were the ones to look after him when he was sick or injured, to comfort him after a bad dream. They would see when he needed new clothes, either from wearing through or growing out of his old ones.

But they were temporary. They only loved and cared about him for as long as they were getting paid to. Two or three times a year, a new nanny would take the place of the old one. He was seven when he realized that they didn't actually care about him, they only cared about getting paid. Overhearing one talking on the phone, "This kid is a bit too clingy, but at least the pay is good for this family." Once he was old enough to be left alone, he missed the companionship of having a nanny, but he couldn't bring himself to miss the false love they brought.

------

As soon as Steve met Tommy and Carol, they meant everything to him. Meeting Tommy at age six, and Carol two years later, when she moved to Hawkins at age eight. He clung to them, the first people his age that seemed to return his love for them. And it was all good, at least while they were young. They spent most of the time together, with each of them inviting Steve over at least once a week. Bringing him into their families, giving Steve a chance to see how bad his own was.

Steve couldn't see it at first, but the friendship between him, Tommy, and Carol became less about the love they had for each other, and more about the love they had for what he could provide. When they were eleven, they realized that Steve having the house to himself most of the time meant that they had somewhere to escape from supervision, and to get away with doing whatever they wanted. As they got older, it meant they had a place where they could have sex without being caught by their parents, siblings, or the police. They loved that he would feed them, always having the best snacks, learning how to cook their favorite meals, giving them food off his lunch tray at school. Once they started high school, they loved the empty house for the ability to throw the biggest parties, securing them top spots on the Hawkins High social ladder. After Steve had received his car, they loved the free rides, basically treating him as a taxi service. His car was much nicer than anything either of them could afford, and gave them a taste of freedom as long as they could give to them.

Steve noticed it after his fight with Jonathan. When they cared more about getting even than how Steve felt. They'd wanted to get revenge on Nancy, framing it as them helping Steve, rather than finding out what Steve actually needed them to do. Wanting to get back at Jonathan instead of being concerned about how Steve was after the fight. Steve couldn't help mourning the friendship, as they had meant so much to him for so long. But he couldn't believe how long it had taken him to realise that they had stopped loving him, and instead loved what he could give to them.

------

He fell in love with Nancy hard and fast. She was beautiful and smart, ambitious and determined. He didn't care what his friends thought of the relationship, he just wanted to make it work. He tried to find ways to bring her into his world, trying to include her in plans with his friends, inviting her to parties. Then Barb went missing from his yard. He knew he handled it poorly, but he felt lost on what he could actually do. Paired with the uncertainty of what his parents would do upon hearing about it, and the encouragement from Tommy and Carol, it pushed him to do things he later regretted.

He apologized, and she accepted it. They got back together a month after the Upside Down happened, just in time for Christmas. He vowed to himself that he would do better, be better for her. He made her happiness his top priority. He used small surprises to cheer her up, little gifts and imaginative dates. He comforted her through the sadness, grief, and guilt, making himself available whenever she needed him. He supported her in the difficult moments, like going to regular dinners with Barb's parents. And he found himself falling deeper and deeper in love with her. She seemed to hold the same love for him, so he didn't feel wrong for daydreaming about a future together. A family together. Every word of love from her, every action that showed her interest, it cemented it a little more. She would show up to the pool while he was lifeguarding over the summer, with the excuse of bringing Holly, but really just staring at him while he was on duty, and chatting during his breaks. She would be at every basketball game, every baseball game, every swim meet. For the first time in his life, he consistently had someone to cheer him on in the stands. Despite the difficulties they'd had, Steve felt like nothing could bring them down.

Then it crashed and burned. Steve genuinely didn't see any issue with the relationship, any sign that the love was unrequited, until his heart was being ripped out and shattered on the bathroom floor of Tina's Halloween party. His head spun with the words. "Like we're in love," and "You're bullshit." He started questioning himself, how long had she felt like that? Had she ever loved him? How had he never noticed? He got Jonathan to take her home, feeling hurt but with the love and care he had for her, he wanted to make sure she got home safe. He tried to isolate himself from her, not picking her up for school. But she wanted to talk while he was in gym. Pinning the problems on him. Denying the words she said while drunk, refusing to take responsibility for them. Not even being able to lie and say she loved him. It was like a knife to the chest finding out from Tommy that she'd run off with Jonathan after less than a day. He still tried to make it right, showing up at her house to apologize, for her not to be home. When everyone finally grouped together, seeing her with Jonathan, the confirmation he hadn't wanted. Nancy looked at Jonathan with a love and adoration that Steve had never seen directed at him. If it weren't for the fight needed for the Upside Down, he would've isolated himself and broken down, wondering why he wasn't good enough. Why he was unloveable.

------

Having a younger brother figure thrust on him wasn't something Steve expected at seventeen, but he would be eternally grateful. Dustin burst into his life at possibly the best time for him. After Nancy broke his heart, he needed somewhere for the love to go. He gave advice, was a listening ear. Doing what he could to help build Dustin's confidence. He was there for the kid whenever he was needed. And Dustin gave him so much in return. A place where he could take himself less seriously, where he didn't need to be Steve Harrington, or King Steve, or 'The Hair'. He could just be Steve, with no expectations or strings attached. Dustin showed up to his graduation, was there to cheer and clap for him when no one else was, and singlehandedly organised the other kids into surprising Steve after. With a grocery store cake that they'd pooled their money to buy, and a handmade card that they'd all signed. He'd missed him like crazy while he was away at camp. And having him back after improved his mood so much, despite being thrown into the Russians.

Steve could feel it changing slowly. Right from the first mention of Eddie Munson and Hellfire Club. He knew he was being replaced as the older brother friend, being swapped out for someone Dustin considered cooler because of the shared love of D&D. Dustin had become more abrasive to him, and was spending less and less time around. It almost felt like a repeat of losing the love of Tommy and Carol, only being wanted when he was useful, for what he could provide. Even after the fight with Vecna, Eddie was still the preferred older brother friend. The one Dustin sought for rides and advice, only coming to Steve if Eddie wasn't available. Dustin had endless patience for Eddie's questions, despite not extending Steve the same courtesy. He never once insulted Eddie's intelligence, despite the fact that the man took three years and a shady government department intervening to complete his senior year of high school, whereas Steve's intelligence was a free for all, overlooking the fact he was the one that was able to pass enough classes to graduate on his first attempt, just because he didn't have much direction in life. Losing the love of Dustin hurt, but it wasn't surprising. Steve knew he was replaceable, expendable. Only needed until a better choice came along.

------

The love he had for Robin was unexpected. He denied it and pushed it away at first. Partly because he felt certain that she didn't like him back, but mostly because he felt wary about loving again. Not wanting to get hurt again, to feel unloved again. It was slow at first, the playful insults having a charming quality to them. Then it hit fast, when he saw how smart she was, how brilliant she was. He could picture being happy with her as his girlfriend, different to other girls he'd dated or been with. He confessed his love while high on Russian truth serum.

She didn't love him back like that. She couldn't love him back in a romantic sense. He didn't have time to feel hurt about it, being caught in the centre of the action. By the time his head had cleared enough to be able to think clearly, he realized that a different kind of love between them could be just as good. Loving each other platonically, best friends, soulmates. It wasn't the love he'd first thought of and expected, but it was the most love he'd ever received. And he didn't doubt it for a second.

------

The love he had for Eddie scared him. It was unplanned, unexpected. What he initially felt for Eddie was mostly distaste, and a little jealousy. Until spring break. He was wary at first, knowing Eddie's reputation. In any other town, it would have been as simple as a drug deal gone wrong. But Hawkins had to be different. Eddie got dragged into the mess of the Upside Down in the worst way possible. Steve didn't really notice the change in his feelings, other than that of friendship, until after it was over. It wasn't until they'd got out of there, injured but alive, that Steve let himself read into the comments, the flirting. Steve started to love Eddie quickly and it terrified him for two reasons, it was his first time having romantic feelings for another guy, and he didn't have a good track record of people loving him back.

Eddie was the one to start it. Steve had come out to Eddie and Robin, and it was a few weeks later while they were a little drunk. Eddie kissed Steve, and took him to bed. Eddie was the one to address it the next morning, asking Steve out. Steve allowed himself to fall again. He loved all of Eddie's quirks, how passionate he was about his music and D&D. How he was anything but a morning person, but always wake up enough to kiss Steve goodbye in the mornings before work. How when he was sat doing nothing, or just watching the tv, his fingers would be constantly moving as if they were moving across the frets on a guitar. Eddie was the first to say I love you. That was what pushed Steve further, into believing it couldn't go wrong. Because there'd never been a time where he hadn't been the first.

And it seemed to go right. Weeks, months passed. It was nearing the year before it fell apart. Steve had noticed that Eddie kept him separate from his other friends, his bandmates. He didn't blame him for it, he'd been an asshole in high school, and while he couldn't remember doing anything to Eddie's bandmates, he'd never given them much reason to trust him either. He would have liked a chance to meet them properly, to make it right, but he wasn't going to push it. He didn't want to give Eddie a reason to have second thoughts about the relationship. It blew up when Steve was planning to surprise Eddie at the trailer. He let himself in using the key Wayne had given him, trying to keep as quiet as possible. It threw him a little, to see a couple of boxes stacked by the tv that hadn't been there a few days before. He started to make his way down the hall, but stopped short when he heard voices. "You're not going to call off whatever you've got going with Harrington before you leave?" It was one of Eddie's bandmates, but Steve couldn't identify which one. He held his breath while waiting for Eddie's reply.

"It's not like it's anything serious. I just keep him around because he's hot and a good fuck." Steve's heart shattered at Eddie's words. He was torn between running out of the trailer, bursting in to confront Eddie, or staying put to try to hear more. In his inner turmoil, he missed the other guy's response, but he heard Eddie's next words loud and clear. "It's not like I even care about him that much. I'll leave town and in a week he'll be back to chasing skirts. He'd probably just strike out, because look at him. I don't understand how could anyone love Steve Harrington."

Steve fled the trailer, not caring about the noise as he moved, choking back sobs that were desperate to burst out of his throat. He threw himself into his car and just drove until the tears blurred his vision so much he couldn't see the road. He couldn't understand how he'd been so stupid, so blind. It was the same pattern repeating again, and Eddie's words had destroyed him, it was the question he'd asked himself so many times before.

How could anyone love Steve Harrington?

My last fic ended fluffier than I first planned, so my brain went have 3k of angst with just a brief fluffy platonic stobin interlude. I'm sorry. I did plan to get this up like 2 days ago but migraines decided otherwise.

[shieldofiron]

Time for ST to have a Femininomenon!

Originally this was for Buckleway Appreciation week but... pom-rom-pom-pom got away from me so I had to add... all the teen ladies.

[bigboysteveharrington]

My favourite part of Steve driving Robin everywhere is the fact that he’s been doing it for most of a year before he even finds out she can’t drive

He doesn’t question why she doesn’t get a car. He doesn’t let her bike or walk to school even though Family Video isn’t open yet and he doesn’t need to be up. He doesn’t even wonder about it without saying anything

He’s just like we’re besties, of course we go everywhere together and almost a year later Robin’s like ???? I assumed you knew that was why I need rides??? Why did you never ask if you didn’t know, you absolute dingus???

My second favourite thing is that in season 3, Robin had the conversation about how Steve was such a douche in high school and how he’d always come in late to the class he didn’t even remember them having together and Steve went from that being one of the major negatives about him that made Robin think he was such a self-absorbed asshole and Steve didn’t try to defend it at all, he just mentally went okay, well I’m going to care more about getting Robin to school on time than I ever cared about getting myself there on time

[thestobingirlie]

[hawkinsincorrect]

You wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me.

[rogueddie]

everyone I ship robin with + the color palettes I assosiate with them

+ bonus stobin

[wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart]

Yet another average day in Family Video:

"Hey. Remember when you said that you'd totally fuck Jonathan."

"When...? Oh, yeah. What the fuck that was literally a month ago why are you mentioning that now?"

"Because that was the same conversation we decided to get the matching tramp stamps. And trying to hide those from my parents is a literal pain in the ass. Pun fully intended. I can't even sit straight and-"

"I'd say you can't do anything straight"

"Not like I can do anything str- fuck you"

Steve swaggers to the back and takes out the whiteboard they purchased together - on ROBIN'S SUGGESTION may he add.

"Can't believe you're losing in your own game. About bad jokes. And being gay. Which are basically your two only personality traits."

Robin's side is embarrassingly empty. He sees it as cosmic karma for her you-suck-game during their scoops ahoy era.

"Alright mister little bitch"

"And yet, this little bitch is beating you in your own game"

Robin shows him the finger. Steve bites the finger because he is a little shit and things like boundaries and personal space have already lost all meaning between the two of them.

In this moment the front doors open. The elderly man takes one look at the scene before him and leaves without a word.

"Where did the Jonathan thing come from?"

"Dunno. I was bored. Thought it'd be funny to see you go through a gay crisis."

"Not much of a crisis if I already admitted to it."

"You're no fun."

"Really? That was not what my dad said three months ago. According to him I am a fucking joke."

"Coming from Harrington Senior that's honestly a compliment"

"Please remind me of that the next time I radio you at 3 am. Who is on tape duty?"

"I did it last time."

"Alright" Steve nods towards the small pile of romcoms they have pointedly not been reshelving for the last half an hour. "Enjoy your alone time in the romance section."

"Do you think it would be an invasion of privacy if we checked who returned all that? It was either an epic girls night of an awful breakup." Her voice gets fainter as she moves to the back of the store.

"Nah. We're in the land of the free or whatever. Wait, let me do it"

"You're only saying that so you can procrastinate asshole"

"Does that mean you don't want to know who took them? Because I promise you, you really really do."

"Don't ask if you already know the answer dingus"

"Guess"

"Ummm....power bottom."

"What?"

"Like with Jonathan. Would you rather he call the shots or the other way around?"

She makes a series of incomprehensible movements that are probably supposed to represent intercourse between two men.

"This is the reason god made you a lesbian"

"And thank him for that. Amen."

"Why are you so obsessed with Jonathan anyway."

"You're deflecting"

"Yeah sure, I am deflecting. C'mon, Buckley. Resume or later?"

"Who was the one who took all the romcoms?"

"If I tell you, will you tell me what's really going on?"

"Depends on your answer."

"I thought you weren't interested in my sex life? Every time-"

In this moment the door opens again. Two girls come in, arm in arm. One is wearing a look that can only be described as disgust, the other is clearly trying to hold in laughter with moderate success.

Over the course of many painful months of customer service (plus surviving an interrogation by the actual Russian secret service) Steve and Robin have developed the ability to hold entire conversations without speaking a single word. It is a very neat talent to have when they want to make fun of someone right in front of them. It is less neat when he is the target.

Robin raises her brows. C'mon dingus, tell these random ass girls about your sex life since you're so proud of it.

Steve frowns in response. Yeah, sure Mrs. Never Even Had A First Kiss.

Robin narrows her eyes. I did have a first kiss. Even if it was absolutely horrible.

Steve puts on his most insufferable expression. You yourself said that it doesn't count. No need to be so jealous Buckley.

Robin rolls her eyes. Alright, I want to see you trying to find a-

"Do you have ET?", Robin doesn't say because, oh yeah, they've got actual customers.

Steve solemnly informs them that ET is current out of stock, but that it should be returned in two days. Robin somehow manages to force her last two movies upon them. They leave with a dazed look on their face that Steve can relate to. Sometimes Robin will start talking and the next thing you know you have a tramp stamp.

"Tommy Hagan"

Robin looks absolutely disgusted. "Tommy Hagan?! You would kiss Tommy Hagan? And then you have the audacity to make fun of my taste in women?!"

"First of all: me and Hagan? Been there done that." Robin looks as if her entire worldview was just flipped upside down. "Second: probably not, he uses a bit too much tongue for my liking. I mean that Tommy Hagan was the one who rented all the romcoms"

Robin takes a moment to process this information. Then she dramatically falls to the floor and squirms around in laughter like a bug on its back trying to get up again. Truly a drama kid through and through.

"And thirdly: for your information, I super could make out with Jonathan Byers. Unlike you, I've got game"

"You don't mean gay-me?"

Steve rolls his eyes and takes out the whiteboard again. He is still in the lead.

"And also, excuse you, I totally could make out with Nancy if I wanted to, okay?! I'm just not a homewrecker unlike some other people"

"Excuse me? I was the one who was cheated on?!"

"I'm insulting your taste, dingus"

"Rich coming from you, since we apparently share the same one"

For a moment she looks confused. Then she thinks back to what she said. Steve can pinpoint the exact moment she realizes it.

"Is this the reason you want me to be into Jonathan so bad? Because you're into Nancy?" Steve feels like a smug cat when her entire upper body grows red.

"Shut up she's just pretty okay?!"

"And badass. Don't forget badass."

"Oh my god I know. Ever since I saw her shooting I haven't been able to get her out of my mind."

"Right?! And as if that isn't enough, she has to go and be smart too! Like, c'mon, she has to have some faults. Some downsides. Nobody is that prefect!"

"Oh my god I know! And-"

They continue like that for a while. Time runs away from them and suddenly Hellfire Club is over and Steve's kids (minus Max, he notes with a heavy heart) are barging into the place as if they own it, for no reason other than to be absolute menaces.

"And like. Robin. She was so hot in that moment. I swear to-"

"Who are you talking about?". Steve is used to Dustin being a rude little shit and automatically answers without even thinking about it. "Nancy."

He realizes his mistake too late. He looks up. Mike's eyes are wide in horror. "I hate you so fucking much" he says before turning around and leaving.

Robin sighs. "I guess that is the downside."

-> the tramp stamp conversation

-> gatekeeping 101

-> breaking out of a heteronormative mindset

[magewritesstories]

the concept is simple. when toxic fandom people tell me to hate a female character whilst simultaniously idolizing the objectively worse men, i will simply double down and love her more.