#Steve Harrington x reader series | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jamdoughnutmagician · 2 months

Text

A Slice Of Life. (Waitress Au) Part 1

Doctor!Steve Harrington x Waitress!Reader.

All you wanted to do was bake your pies, but life had other plans for you. Now you find yourself pregnant with your no-good husband's baby, and worried about the direction in which your life was now heading.

Heavily based on the 2007 film, Waitress.

Warnings:Pregnancy, Billy is reader's husband (and he is not a nice guy at all),

Word Count: 2,630.

Next part ->

*divider by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist // Steve Harrington Masterlist.

“C’mon, just take the test, and then you’ll know one way or the other and you can take things from there.” Robin shouts from behind the bathroom stall.

You step out of the cubicle and huff out a nerve-steadying breath. Your future is quite literally in your trembling hands. Your blue and white waitressing dress suddenly feels all-too constricting and the fabric feels scratchy against your skin.

You look down at the pregnancy test in your hands, desperately hoping and waiting for a negative result.

“Please, not now, not ever, I don’t want this.” you mutter to yourself. “I don’t need any trouble and I most certainly don’t want a baby. I just want to make my pies in peace.”

“I thought you weren’t sleeping with Billy anymore?” Nancy chimed in.

“Oh you know what her husband’s like.” Robin babbled. “He played nice, took her out and got her drunk. Now look where we are.”

“I should never drink. I always do stupid shit when I drink, like sleep with my husband.”

The timer goes off and you cast your eyes downwards to the test in your hands.

“Oh fuck!” you panic “It’s positive.”

“It’s positive?” Nancy and Robin exclaim in tandem.

A heavy fist knocks at the bathroom door.

“What’s going on in there? I’ve got a diner full of hungry customers and no waitresses on the floor!” shouts the gruff voice.

“Hold your horses will you Hopper, Y/n isn’t feeling too good.” Nancy shouts back.

“I’m fine. I’ll be out in a minute, Hop.” you chime, brushing the stray strands of hair away from your face.

“Well hurry up!” he grumbles.

“Are you okay?” Nancy asks, rubbing a gentle and reassuring hand over your back.

“Shhh..I’m coming up with an idea for a new pie.”

In your mind you can see the pie so perfectly. The golden crisp shell, with all its fillings and toppings.

“It’s called ‘I don’t want Billy’s baby’ pie.

“I’m not sure that’ll fit on the lunch-board.” Robin laughs.

“Okay, then I’ll call it ‘Bad-Baby’ pie. It’s a quiche, with smoked ham and sharp cheddar.”

The flaky pastry shell, filled with a savoury, cheesy, egg custard, pieces of salty smoked ham running through it. The sort of thing that would fly off the counters during a Sunday lunchtime rush.

Your mind was never not thinking of new and exciting flavour combinations, In a way it your way of expressing yourself. The ideas coming to you at odd times of the day. Sometimes sweet, and fruity, and sometimes tangy and savoury. No matter what pie it was that you made, it was always served with a smile, and enjoyed by the diner's patrons with an even bigger smile.

You sigh quietly as you hold your head in your hands. You were happy enough with how your life was going. You had a job that you loved, working alongside friends that you loved, and a husband who you were quite content to ignore to the best of your abilities. Two out of three ain’t so bad.

“There’s no way I’m going to be able to get away from Billy now.”

You sit beside Nancy and Robin on the bench outside the diner, a pie leftover from today’s dinner rush sitting wrapped up in cling-film on your lap.

“Are you going to tell him?” Nancy asks.

“I’m not sure.” you mumble, suddenly more interested in the dirt-scuffed marks on your white tennis shoes than thinking about how to tell Billy you were pregnant with a baby that you weren’t even sure that you wanted.

“In an ideal world I wouldn’t have to tell him. If I could get away from him somehow, he might not ever have to know.”

“Are you absolutely sure it’s his?” Robin asks carefully, trying not to force the implication of her question.

“Unfortunately yes. I’ve never cheated on him, it absolutely couldn’t be anybody else’s.”

“Here you are; married to this handsome man, you’re pregnant with his baby, anyone else might be happy, and yet neither of us would ever want to trade places with you for a second.” Nancy says.

“No I would not.” Robin agrees. “Well maybe there is one thing I would trade.” She starts.

“What’s that Rob?” you ask, turning to your friend.

“I would love to be able to make pies as good as yours.” she smiles, nudging her shoulder against yours.

“So what if I can make a decent pie. I’m still stuck in a marriage with a husband who I should never have gotten with in the first place.” You sigh.

When you had met Billy you’d both been too young and blinded by love. He was handsome, with soft blonde curls and devastatingly piercing blue eyes. He’d sweet talk you in-between classes, and he made you feel special, made you feel seen for the first time in a long time. Things had been great for a while, and marrying him felt like the logical next step in your relationship, but after that everything changed. He was no longer the man you once knew. Once he’d tied you down to him he stopped trying, so sure that you would never leave him. His words were often cruel and manipulative. Many times you had found yourself dreading leaving work, for fear of what might be waiting for you at home.

The sight of your husband’s Camarro pulls in front of the diner, the wheels crunching over the rocky gravel drive-way, and his horn blaring obnoxiously.

“Yeah, yeah, I can hear you.” you mutter to yourself, when he continues to blare his horn, thumping his fist against the steering wheel.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Nancy nods, bidding you goodbye.

“-and if you do decide to tell hi-” Robin whispers to you, but you cut her off with a ‘shh’ as Billy’s car rolls to a stop in front of you.

“Hey,” you smile, putting on your best brave face. “See you girls tomorrow” you wave goodbye as you make your way to his car.

“You getting in or what?” Billy's clipped tone comes from the driver’s seat.

The sounds of soft rock music filter from the car’s radio as he rattles down the dusty back roads.

“You don’t look too pleased to see me.” he grumbles. “You didn’t even give me a kiss or nothing.”

“I am pleased to see you.” you answer back.

“Well, where’s my hello kiss then?” he demands, taking a hand off the wheel to point at his cheek.

You lean over the centre console to quickly peck his cheek, the harsh scruff of his stubble feeling uncomfortably coarse against the press of your lips.

“That’s more like it.” he grins, satisfied to have gotten his way once more.

“Where’s the money you made today, huh?”

“Right here in my pocket.”

“Well then, what are you waiting for? Hand it over.”

You fish the notes from out of your pocket, handing them over to Billy reluctantly.

“Doesn’t feel like much there, now does it sweetheart?” His tone is snide as he takes the money from you and places it into his own shirt pocket.

“It was a slow day today, that’s all.”

“You’ve been having a lot of slow days recently, I’m not even sure it’s worth you working there anymore.” he scoffs. “Think I might prefer it if you stayed home and cooked me pies all day.” he smirks, his teeth pulling against his bottom lip as he chuckles to himself.

The quiet between you falls once more before he speaks again.

“Aren’t ‘ya going to ask me how my day was?”

“How was your day, Billy?”

“Oh you know how it is, the boss is busting my ass as usual, tellin’ me that i’m not putting in enough effort-” Billy launches into his spiel about how his day went, but it all blends into the background noise, his voice no more than mindless chatter to you as your mind is elsewhere.

Inventing a new pie.

I hate my husband pie, Bitter-sweet dark chocolate, in a crumbly dark chocolate crust, filled with a gooey, salted caramel-

“You’re not even listening to me.” Billy shouts out, taking you out of your happy place. “You never fuckin’ listen to me anymore.” he shoves your shoulder with a free hand.

“Well, aren’t you going to apologise to me?”

It’s pointless to argue with him. You know this. He knows it. And by god does he hold it over you every single time.

“I’m sorry, Billy. Sorry that I didn’t listen to you when you were telling me about your day.”

“See? Was that so hard?”

It’s late in the evening when you get back home, and both you and Billy are sitting at the kitchen table. Your hardly eaten dinner being pushed around by your fork. In contrast to the man opposite you, who hungrily forks up pieces of steak to his mouth.

You have something that you want to ask of him, but for that you know that he’s going to need sweetening up. You smile softly at him, as your hand reaches for his across the table.

“Baby, you’re always so sweet to me, you know that?” you tell him, your voice dripping with a sickeningly sweet, yet false, tone.

“You’re my girl, that’s why.” he says, the knife scratching along the china plate as he cuts himself another piece of steak.

“I was hoping I could borrow some money from you?” you ask sheepishly.

“..And my answer to that question is gonna be no.” he clips, his answer short and curt.

“There’s going to be a big pie bake-off out of state in a few months, and I really like to go.” you continue.

“I already said no.”

“The prize money is really good.” you add on, hoping the promise of bringing more money home might change his mind.

“What do you need money for, huh?” Billy barks out. “I give you everything, and you don’t want for nothing.”

“I don’t want for nothing, Billy.” you sigh. Your plan to get away from your husband starts to look bleaker by the minute.

“I mean why do you wanna go all the way across the state, when you’ve got me to take care of?”

“You’re right, Billy.” you shake your head with a sigh. “Forgive me for asking.”

Late into the night, with Billy heavily asleep in bed next to you, snoring loudly, you’re lying awake.

Quietly as you can you tiptoe out of bed, trying your best to not disturb the man next to you, you quietly pad over to where his shirt lay discarded on the bedroom floor.

Looking over your shoulder to where your husband lies undisturbed on the bed, you reach into his pocket to take back the money that you had earned from your shift at the diner that day. Taking the money to hide it away from him in a secure place that you hope he would never find it.

You sit nervously in the doctor’s waiting room. Another pie perched on your lap, ready to give to your doctor.

Your name is called by the receptionist and so you make your way through the door to the doctor’s surgery.

In strolls your Doctor, except, he isn’t your Doctor. This guy wasn’t Doctor Bloom. He had a bountiful bounce of shaggy brown hair that was slicked back. His tan skin peppered with a few golden freckles, a few of them clustering over the sloping bridge of his nose, and his hazel brown eyes seemed to sparkle under the cool white lights overhead. His white over-coat draped over his broad-shouldered frame as he sauntered towards you.

“Mrs. Hargrove is it?” he asks, looking over his clip-board of notes. “Oh and you’ve brought me a pie! How lovely!” he smiles, reaching to take the pie from your hands.

“This pie is for Doctor Bloom. I made it for her, it’s her favourite, peach and raspberry.”

“Well, Doctor Bloom retired a few months ago, and so, from now on I’ll be taking her place.”

“Well I really liked and trusted Doctor Bloom.” you sigh.

“Perhaps, you could really like, and trust me too.” he says earnestly, before offering a hand out to you. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Doctor Steve Harrington.”

You shake his hand and tell him your name in return.

“So, what seems to be the problem?” he asks, his voice a calming presence as he talks to you.

“Well, I seem to be pregnant.” you say plainly.

“That’s great! Congratulations!” He smiles broadly.

“Thank you, but I’m not as happy about it as everyone probably expects me to be, so if you could be sensitive and perhaps not congratulate me, I’d really appreciate it.”

He nods as he listens to you talk through your feelings.

“I’m having the baby,and that’s that. It’s not a party.”

“Alright, noted. Not a party.” he nods in understanding. “Okay, well then let’s do a blood test first, make sure that you really are pregnant, and then we’ll do some basic checks, diseases, hormone levels, stuff like that.” he explains.

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Alright then, the nurse will be with you in a moment, so don’t go anywhere.”

“Mrs. Hargrove, come in.” he says gesturing for you to make your way into his office. Doctor Bloom’s peach and raspberry pie is still in your hands as you step through the door.

“Y/n.” you remind him, hating the way your husband’s name tied you to him.

“Sorry about the mess, I haven’t really had the chance to tidy things up around here yet.” he offers apologetically, carefully moving a stack of papers off his cluttered desk.

“Well if you’re going to be my doctor from now on, then I guess this pie belongs to you.”

Steve graciously accepts the pie with a warm smile.

“Thank you very much.” he says, setting the pie down on the desk. “Well, uh, have a seat.”

You sit yourself down in the chair opposite him, ready to listen to what he has to tell you.

“The results of the blood test came back, and you’re definitely pregnant. So for the next eight months, I’ll be right here if you need me, any questions - I’m just a phone-call away. We’ll be monitoring your progress, keeping an eye on how things are going, making sure both you and baby are healthy. Did you have any questions for me?”

“What kind of questions?”

“Anything really, any concerns with regards to your pregnancy, some do’s and don’ts, lifestyle choices, exercise, sex..” he trails off, scribbling his pen down on a piece of paper.

“Oh well I don’t do much of either of those things.” you reply honestly.

“Okay, any diet concerns?”

You shake your head at him.

“Not really, I mean, it’s just a lot of healthy eating, right?”

“Yeah, just try to maintain a healthy diet, be careful around certain kinds of cheese and fish, here’s a list of foods I would try to avoid,” he says handing over a small piece of paper. “..and here is a prescription for some prenatal vitamins.”

Despite his nervous energy, something you’re putting down to meeting with a new patient for the first time, he seems sweet. Caring and attentive, and spoken with calming demeanour that immediately puts you at ease, and in the situation in which you find yourself, you are eternally grateful.

“Okay, thank you, Doctor.”

“It was nice to meet you, Y/n. I’d like to see you again in about three weeks.”

You leave the doctor’s office with a smile tugging at your lips and your worries put at ease by the calming influence of your new, handsome, kind and caring doctor.

@penguinsandpotterheads @paybacksawitch @mrsjellymunson @seatnights @ali-r3n

#Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x Female reader #Steve Harrington x reader series #Steve Harrington x Female Reader series #Steve Harrington fluff

83 notes · View notes

retrodreamgirl · 1 year

Text

seasons of becoming: winter | steve harrington x fem!reader

spring | summer | fall | winter

summary: winter is the way the bare trees whistle in the wind, their spindly leaves weighed heavily with the fresh slate of white, snow people made of makeshift, carrot noses, grandpa's pipe, and grandma knitted scarfs, the lakes glossed over and ready for blades, tricks, and the occasional spill. it's shopping for presents and sneaking a peek, the celebration of holidays long rooted in tradition and the welcome of ones created anew, it's a time for families lost and found to gather at feasted tables and cozied beside the fire. it's the years finality and it's first breath, a time of revelation and reconciliation, feelings lost and found, the continuation of something old in the form of something new. [7.3k]

warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of sex, fem!reader, bad writing, not edited, its 2am and idk what else so if you love me will you let me know?

ojo spotted. me actually posting a fic; i hope it was worth the wait and if not...sorry bout it <3

⤜♡→

With winter comes fruition.

Hawkins is a wonderland filled with snow and streets slick with ice, lakes glossed over waiting for the blades of childrens skates and their sore bums when they can’t manage proper balance.

Shop shelves are overflowing with hot cocoa and marshmallows of varying sizes. Some like the larger ones that float like mushy mountains giving way to the ocean of chocolate sweet and some the smaller like flakes building hills of fluffy snow. Both so they can further scrutinize which mug has more, the basis for many adolescent squabbles just after a warm dinner, usually a cozy soup or steaming stew.

Snow people line the streets, neighborhoods in silent competition with the decoration of festive lights and homemade wreaths versus the store bought ones with fake holly woven through the stiff plastic of artificial evergreen. There are gifts hidden in every nook and cranny and children peeking in the most unsuspecting of places to lift corners of wrapping paper and gently shake packages before their parents return from work or further shopping.

For you it’s the season of fresh cookies and specialized gifts. It’s thoughtful combinations of chocolates and two for one baking classes. It’s the newly arrived snowglobes lining the shelves, shaken with each instance of a new customer walking through the door, flakes floating in the glass world that mimics a small town in tiny.

The tree by the door is dusted in fake snow, ornaments clinging to the thin branches and a string of colored lights freshly strung with new bulbs. There’s popcorn and cranberry garland the kids insisted on stringing along the counters when they helped you decorate a few weeks ago.

Winter is lovely, but something is off and no one can quite put their finger on it.

It was a tail end sort of thing, something that carried on through the holidays riding autumn’s lapels. The surface was untouched, a stillness disturbed only by the drop of water on an unmoving stream in the shape of constant questions with no answer. The spindly arms of bare trees grasping for nowhere leaves in the aching cold.

“Are you coming to my place for Christmas dinner?” Will tightens a pretty red bow atop a box of sweets, a secret message lining the gift tag in his messy scrawl. It was neglectful to ignore his invitation for so long, you’re abashed that he’s bringing it up so suddenly, never used to anyone following up on these things.

“Oh.” You say it like the possibility of attending only just occurred to you, half breathless like you’d run a mile while you thought of it. You pause a moment, holiday radio showering you with snowflake eighths and quarters. “I don’t wanna put your mom out, I’ll probably just stay in, maybe call my parents.”

“You’re not putting her out. She’s excited to meet you, we’ve mentioned you enough that she talks like she’s known you for years.” It’s not Will’s style to be so intentional, but you can tell he’s guilting you just a tad.

How thoughtless of you to think of refusing his mother’s invitation.

The dinner isn’t on Christmas, so realistically you could pretend you’ve got other plans or leave the shop open a little later than usual, but either way you wouldn’t get away with it. Too marked by a teenager’s curious suspicion — how ridiculous.

“You know, I’m not avoiding this dinner.”

“Of course not. Why would you?” Will shrugs, flicking at the tassels dangling on a freshly packaged apple pie.

“Exactly. I’m just letting you know in case that’s what you were thinking.”

“She really does wanna meet you though. Plus, you did say you’d bring dessert.”

You did say you’d bring dessert, but that was before you decided to avoid it altogether.

It’s easier to be annoyed with the sudden string dangling from the slip of your apron than to waste time scolding yourself internally, so you tug at the pitiful length of fabric. “Who’s coming? I mean,” — you mean to ask if there’s any reason you should be avoiding it — “is everyone else gonna be there?”

“I think so—” He considers you for a moment then glances at the box on the counter. “Max will definitely be there. I think she misses you.”

“What do you mean? I’m around.”

“Yeah, but you make a lot of excuses now. And not good ones.”

You scoff, but only to cover the pit of guilt that feels bottomless in your stomach.

You’ve thought it a little mean of you to back off so suddenly. As much as you can blame the way the seasons have changed and with it the smell of decadence casting a permanent shadow over your doorstep in the frigid death of winter, it’s mostly personal.

“You’re good.” You relent, unavailable for further comment on the matter at hand. “I’ll be there. Maybe a little late though.”

~*~

A little late meant a lot.

The pathetic mess decorating the floor is only slightly less pathetic than the way you’ve been sitting next to it sobbing for nearly thirty minutes. You aren’t sure if it’s the scalding burn roughening your palm, the scattered pie crust dirtying the tile, or an unsaid third thing that’s brought the worst of the tears. You feel stupid, cheeks puffy and eyes sore around the rims, head pounding as a result of your emotional panic.

It was a careless mistake in your haste to make a decent impression, flustered to no end when you forgot to mitt your hand before shoving it into the oven. Careless but immediately regrettable. Your eyes dart to your apron, a sardonic chuckle spilling forth when you spot the nearly spotless seasonal cloth.

“S’not gonna clean itself.” You push your hands to your closed eyes, pressing until you see spots and then some. It feels nice for a spell, leveling some of the pressure at the base of your skull. Short lived is your reprieve, the sudden jingle and the accompaniment of crisp wind setting the hairs on your arm stock straight.

“Um…sorry but we’re closed!” You manage to speak, though an octave out of character. Your uninjured hand finds purchase on the sharp lip of the counter to lift you just enough to spot Lucas as a blob of winter, fastened in his large coat with his hands shoved to his mouth perhaps recovering from the frigid cold. “What are you doing here?”

He makes a strained sort of sound, something between a laugh and an incoherent utterance. “Making sure you aren’t bailing.”

“I’m not bailing.”

He shrugs, shedding his coat in favor of rounding the counter, probably for the warmth of your momentary assailant. He stops in front of the oven and the pile of pie, brows drawn when he soaks in your pitiful state.

“You’ve been crying…” He’s suddenly in his element, kneeling at your side and gently taking hold of the arm you hadn’t realized was cradled limply against your stomach. “Are you hurt?”

“S’just a burn, I’ll be fine.” You mildly carve his shoulder with your free hand, smiling genuinely when he continues to uncurl the unintentional fist you’d wound so tightly. “I forgot the oven mitt. What a dummy right?”

His lip twitches, but Lucas doesn’t laugh.

“Did you run it under cool water or something?” He’s inspecting the skin, backing off a tad when he grazes the surface and you wince.

“Yeah, Lucas, don’t worry I’m fine. I just need to clean this up and make another pie I guess.” You feel silly having been caught wallowing, especially by Lucas. You’re always the one doling out wisdom and here you sit in bits of pie and the afterburn of your misery. “How did you get here by the way? Please tell me you didn’t walk or ride your bike.”

“No, I asked my mom to drop me here instead of Will’s. Don’t you have any pies left from this morning?”

“Yes, but those are from this morning.” You urge, finally pulling yourself from the ground fetching a broom and a cloth to scoop up the gooey chunks of apple mingling in with the crust. The tile has already begun to glaze over with the sugary filling and your back is sore thinking about scrubbing it up. Lucas follows suit, ambling around for something in your cabinets. “I don’t wanna show up with a pie I was going to sell, that’s rude.”

“I honestly don’t think they’d know the difference. Besides, I definitely watched Steve buy store bought cookies.” He slides the first aid kit free from one of the cabinets, pulling an assortment of bandages and sizing them against his palm. “He didn’t even buy them from the bakery either, he just picked up those seasonal butter cookies that come in the Christmas tin—”

“Well, I’m certainly not Steve. But I get it. I'll bring the ones from this morning. I was probably just gonna donate them anyway.”

Silence ensues, you busying yourself with the gross miscalculation of a missing mitt and Lucas pulling your hand away from the mess when he settles on a satisfactory adhesive. He handles you with the same tenderness as before, his cheeks half hollowing where you can tell his teeth have pierced the flesh in concentration — like he’s done this a million times and needs to get it just right.

It strikes you then, how odd it is.

How you could have been so alone in your being were it not for the implicit demand for simplicity in your small town youth.

The age old tale of boy meets girl, the way it unfolded just right and led Lucas through the door of your shop for the first time not a week after it opened. He seemed so fresh faced then, light hearted in his banter, unsure which line of the law you toed. Probably waiting for you to kick him out on his ass because he’s a kid and kids are always up to no good.

The way he nervously counted his change and the corners of his lips sloped a bit when it didn’t add up exactly right. Then his further faltering in confidence when you gave him the gift anyway, making him promise to tell you how things went if he wanted to get even.

You never imagined he would keep coming back buying gifts, with actual money, sometimes he would come by just to tell you about Max over a fresh pastry and eventually about people you never dreamed would someday become your friends as well.

Sometimes he'll even bring you little trinkets, action figures that now litter the store counter and neat posters he’d strung in the office in the back.

You’ve both grown and in a strange way you’ve grown together.

Now he seems wiser, more confident in his person and more comfortable with yours.

“You’re a good guy, Lucas.”

“Relax, you’re not dying or anything.” He grins, securing the bandage. “If anything you’re being a bit of a wuss, it’s not that bad.”

“Excuse me, but I told you I was fine! You’re the one who pulled out the first aid kit, need I remind you. Just take the compliment.”

“Why?” You start on the gooey apples already beginning to harden against the floor, face heating under your sudden affection.

“Because you could be with your friends right now and instead you’re here with me.”

“You’re my friend.”

“You know what I mean.” You scoff, appeased when the apple gunk comes up easier than you were expecting. Lucas helps sweep the rest of the crust and you pull the remaining pies from the display case, boxing and tying them up extra nicely with a ribbon if only because you feel bad they aren’t as fresh as you’d hoped.

You’ve finally managed to put yourself together, locking the shop up then settling in your car with a trunk full of presents and a backseat filled with pie. Your sigh of relief meets Lucas’s in tandem when the heating kicks on, the two of you sitting for a moment while your windshield defrosts.

“So…as a good guy, your words not mine, can I ask why you were crying?”

It’s begun to snow. White ash flutters to a stop on your windshield where you scrutinize the crystalline figures until they give way to water, swiped clean by your stiff wipers. You swear if you listen hard enough you can still hear the wind whistling over the low hum of the radio.

If there was room between your chest and your steering wheel you think your legs would’ve crawled upward until your jeans were kissing the puffiness of your sweater. You’ve always been good at avoiding these conversations, the ones that force you to lay yourself bare.

Now it feels like too much effort. It feels unfair when Lucas is sitting here with you, no more fooled by your predisposition to be nonchalant about things that are bigger than the small way you phrase them.

It’s so cold, but you’re too hot. It’s embarrassing to admit you’ve lost your footing, even worse when you haven’t decided if it’s as detrimental as it feels when your heart slams in your chest and it's just a bit more difficult to breathe. You’re so starving but you haven’t had the stomach to eat in days and when you do it takes more effort than you’d like.

Not to mention your certainty in the reaction Lucas will give you if you hint at your momentary role as an outline in Steve Harrington’s bed.

“I dropped my pie.” Not completely false. Who wouldn’t cry over a perfectly good pie gone to waste? It just doesn’t happen to be the most true of the reasons he found you the way he did. Perhaps only the last straw “And I’m just a tad overwhelmed lately with the holidays and all.”

“Uh huh…” He chews on it for a moment allowing you the courtesy of quiet, disturbed only by the sound of your wipers working overtime against the unforgiving snow. “You know, I definitely saw the way you looked at Steve that first time in the store.”

“And how exactly did I look at him, Sinclair?” Your feet slide against the mats on your floor, a slippery squeak permeating in your eardrums. “You know what? I don’t wanna know. We’re late.”

You coast for a few minutes, tires cautiously gliding along ice slick roads.

“It was like a—”

“Lucas.”

“Oh what a hottie!” His voice jumps about three octaves, hands framing his face in a manner quipped as stereotypically feminine.

“Oh it was not!”

“Was too.”

“Whatever — is there actually a point to this?” The drive to the Byers’ is shorter than you were expecting, your tires sliding a tad when your foot suddenly finds the break. Your memory taking the shape of your leg muscles rather than the power of your brain when you spot their porch lights fading into view.

There are a few cars already lining the drive, your headlight’s reflection bouncing off the rusted mailbox with the faint outline of numbers or a name to one side, you aren’t sure in the low lighting and you’ve never been concerned enough to care until now.

Aligning your wheels with shoveled asphalt you glance at your passenger and he’s sending you a look you pretend not to understand. The way Lucas’s eyebrows lower until they’re set in deadpan, his hand half pulling at the lever on the door — in a hurry but not enough that he doesn’t find it unnecessary to impress this upon you. His head is resting on the back of his seat, lolled to the side like it’d taken all of his energy to get there.

“Will you just help me with these pies?” Lucas relents, but he’s not through, beating you where you round to the passenger side for a clearer shot to the front door once you’ve loaded up.

He perches on the backseat, nearly squashing one of the boxes.

“You guys kissed, didn't you?” He’s not coy about the sudden accusation, more put out by the drama of it all if the obscene roll of his eyes is any indication. You have the audacity to sputter, the sound toeing the line between amusement and disbelief. Neither fooling Lucas one bit. “Dustin already got Steve to cough it up and he said it’s not a big deal, people kiss and it doesn’t mean anything.”

You’re about to brush Lucas off, demand he get out of your car, but you pause.

A sudden movement, hand half cuffing his coat puffed wrist and your weight resting on your right foot. Your lip twitches and your stomach does a funny little somersault, the kind you only associate with butterflies though right now it feels more like a swarm of bats.

“Steve said that or Dustin?” You blurt, dropping Lucas’s arm in favor of clutching the freezing corner of your door with more force than necessary.

“Huh?”

“You said that he said it’s not a big deal. Who said that, Steve or Dustin?” A small detail, but perhaps the only thing to drive you back to what you deem a semblance of sanity rather than the crumbling corner you’ve so gracelessly clung to for the past several weeks.

So sure you were that Steve would’ve preferred your easy slip into the silent night to the awkward pleasantries in the morning to follow.

It was only that fateful night as you laid wide awake, a feeling settled heavy over every inch of you, that you shuddered beneath the ghosted feeling of Steve’s hands on your skin. A guilt settled thick and bitter atop your tongue.

Perhaps you’d read him wrong. There were so many signs in either direction, maybe you’d chosen to follow the worst of them and you were subjecting Steve to waking a man broken by your sudden departure.

It was this thought that won out amongst the rest. Especially when you didn’t see or hear from Steve for days until they became weeks and you're sure by now you’ve hit the one month mark.

It’s a horrible thought, but if Lucas is saying what you think he is then you can allow yourself the space to breathe because maybe Steve is just as bad as you thought. It sours a bit in your stomach and a part of you thinks you could puke or cry over it just a bit more, but if it’s true then you’re sure you could learn to be okay with it.

“Uh…I mean that’s what Dustin said Steve said, but for all I know he could’ve been paraphrasing. It is Dustin we’re talking about here.” You can tell Lucas feels like he’s skating on thin ice, unsure which way feels solid enough to glide his way to safety.

“Okay, let’s go inside.”

“Yeah…”

You breathe, shivering against a hefty gust of wind. It nearly blinds you to the path before you. An omen if you had to guess. Though good or bad? You couldn’t even begin to say. “Unless there’s some other place you need to be?”

~*~

Everything is chaos as soon as the Byers’ front door is thrown open, Joyce welcoming you both with open arms.

She’s thrilled with the arsenal of desserts and Lucas shoots you something of a smug side eye. You can hear the kids arguing about something in the living room until someone grunts that they should all be quiet to which someone else, El you deduce, retorts something with a level of sass you’d yet to hear from the sweet teen.

Joyce is ushering you into the kitchen, barely enough time for you to dart your eyes toward everyone else in the living room in a failed attempt at a headcount.

It feels extra homey and you wonder if it has anything to do with the smell of Joyce’s cooking and the various candles and decorations or if it all comes from the woman herself, preparing you and Lucas mugs of cocoa, making sure the lingering cold leaves as quickly as possible.

You decide rather quickly that she’s one of your favorite people. You attribute it to the warmth of her smile and the way she’s already asking you so many questions that would usually overwhelm you but somehow feel incredibly special when she asks them.

“I feel like I know so much about you but also nothing at all!” She laughs, dropping a handful of marshmallows into Lucas’s mug, shooing him from the room like she’s his own. “The kids talk about you all the time.”

“Oh, I’m sure they talk me up quite a bit. I promise I’m not very exciting.”

“If it were the boys who wouldn’t shut up about you I might believe it, but trust me when I say it’s not easy to impress Max Mayfield.” She settles on you pointedly, not like you’d done something wrong but like you’d cracked some secret code.

You shrink beneath her prying eyes, unsure you deserve such praise in the wake of recent events.

“Honestly she’d made more of an impression on me than anything. All of them really, they’re good kids.”

“Yeah…they are.” She looks far away and you feel like you’re intruding on something, startled when heavy footsteps clunk into the kitchen effectively tearing your gaze from Joyce and hers from wherever it had settled moments before.

You immediately recognize Sheriff Hopper. He’s looking much lighter than usual in a thick maroon sweater and blue jeans rather than the casual professionalism of his coat and badge. But he leaves you no more fooled when you catch the furrow in his eyebrows like he’s especially pissed off about something.

They even a bit when he catches your eye, the corners of his lips curling enough that you could tell he was trying to smile without straining himself too much. He extends his hand and you meet him halfway, unsure what to expect from him.

You’d only met a few times, one of those times due to the unfortunate circumstance of an attempted break in.

Then you weren’t sure what to make of the grumpy sheriff, tales passed around the shops lining the street painting him in various shades ranging from “loveable grump” to “irredeemable asshole”. But standing in the middle of the Byers’ kitchen he seems nice, especially when you accept his outstretched hand and he pulls you in for a short, somewhat awkward, hug.

“Nice to see you again, Y/n.” He releases you, a heavy hand hunkering down on your shoulder, nearly knocking you off balance. You’d somehow missed the beer settled in his free hand, his carefree mannerisms making a bit more sense, but you’re still no more swayed on your uncertainty of character.

Joyce is lighthearted when she catches your gaze and her eyes roll playfully.

“You too, sir.” You watch him stalk around the counter, eyes focused plainly on a dish centering the rest near the stove. His hand is nearly there before Joyce smacks it away.

“If you’re hungry go drag the kids away from their bickering.”

~*~

It was difficult for you to think of dinner as an awkward instance. The table was small, your elbows knocking with Max and Mike on either side, but the company was so full of big personalities it gave you little time to ponder the unkempt boy settled at the opposite end.

You were juggling three conversations at any given moment, Joyce attempting to get to know you while Dustin explained the party’s latest campaign — you’d missed it despite previously promising to sit in — and Max assuring him you couldn’t care less before getting on about her own tales big and small.

Still you allowed yourself the grace of a few glances in Steve’s direction throughout the meal. He was never looking at you and you couldn’t tell if it was intentional or he was sincerely occupied with whatever Hopper was prattling on about. Perhaps you secretly hoped he'd slipped his own glimpses in the space between yours, that he’s been wondering just as much as you.

Either way it afforded you the luxury of taking him in completely. Your eyes initially zeroed in on the way his hair traced the tips of his eyebrows, cascading to kiss the apples of his cheeks on either side. His face is lined with rose, like he’s been silently suffocating in the warmth of the cableknit sweater hugging his arms and torso, his hand awkwardly clutching his fork while the other traces a pattern into the pleated tablecloth.

“Can we open presents now?” It’s Dustin, his mouth midway through chewing a piece of candied yam. His insistence was all it took for the rest of the table to nod along enthusiastically, forks quickly scraping along glass plates to scoop the last of their dinner.

Joyce has not a moment to argue before the legs of wooden chairs — varying in shapes and sizes; the one you're currently sitting in has a baby blue cushion and wobbles on one of its legs — are grating against the hardwood. You think it a miracle how they’ve all moved in tandem, gathering around the tree, richly decorated with ornaments both store bought and homemade.

You can just make out one with a photo of Will and Jonathan, whose memory spans no further than polite nods in the hall, nestled cutely in the center of a pipe cleaner Christmas tree and you make a mental note to gently tease Will about his frighteningly consistent fashion sense.

Your empty handedness strikes you suddenly, presents long forgotten in the trunk of your car. You glance around for your coat and Joyce jumps a bit in your peripheral.

“Are you okay?” She strides over to you, her hands full with sticky plates. You feel bad that she probably thought you were leaving, taking a moment to consider what sort of reputation you have for these sorts of things.

“Yeah, dinner was lovely I—”

“Don’t tell me you’re already going?” This catches the attention of a few stragglers, Steve and Dustin who’d been having their own hushed conversation in the far corner.

“No! I just forgot everyone’s gifts in my car.” Joyce eases the tension in her shoulders glancing at the steadily falling snow out the nearest window. “I’ll just be a minute.”

“Give me just a sec to put these down and I can help, I don’t want you falling over.” She’s already halfway to the kitchen when Dustin pipes up, his hand fisting the lower half of Steve’s sweater, exposing a bit of his torso in the process.

“Steve will help, he'd be thrilled to help actually!”

You look away before it's obvious you looked at all, prepared to decline Dustin’s insistence.

Steve is straddling the few steps between the kitchen and the living room, like he might make a run when you aren’t looking. It almost makes you laugh because it’s the most interaction you’ve had since you arrived and he hasn’t said a word.

He doesn’t need to. You can see the uncertainty in his eyes tinted the darkest shade of hazel, just a slight glimmer of the lights Joyce has strung up catching in his pupils.

“It’s fine, I can do it on my own.” You sling your coat over your shoulders, fishing in the pockets on either side until you feel the cool metal of your car key. You whirl in the direction of the front door, startling half a step back when Steve brushes past you like he’s taken your rejection as an act of defiance that simply won’t do.

You glance at Dustin, but he’s already sauntered off in the other direction, his hands dusting against each other like he’d just cleaned himself of something particularly irritating.

Steve is holding the door expectantly when you make toward him, something akin to agitation tracing the space between his brows.

“Thanks for the help.” You step into the cold hoping the words don’t sound as foreign to Steve’s ears as they do to yours, all funny and faraway. His hands shove into his slacks and he’s hunched his shoulders so the collar of his sweater is inching up a bit around the bare skin of his neck because he’s foregone his coat.

“Yeah, sure.” You think he might say more and shrink back toward your car when he doesn’t. You feel embarrassed fiddling with your keys, like there aren’t actually presents in your trunk and you’ve lured Steve into the cold looking for some revelation. “Is the lock frozen?”

You startle, nearly dropping your keychain with the ceramic snowman dangling from the end wearing a billowing scarf and a coal bent smile. You struggle a bit more, heating substantially where you feel your fingers struggling to place the shape of the key into the opening of the lock. “Sorry—”

It’s a toe over the line of embarrassment when you nearly drop your keys into the accumulation of snow beneath your feet. You're about to apologize again when a strong hand clasps over your hesitant ones, Steve’s breath ghosting over your neck.

“Let me.” He grunts, pulling you from your momentary panic, an uncertainty birthed in the way he felt pressed against you. You relinquish expecting him to back away and allow you to give him space, but he simply guides your hand, easily maneuvering until you hear the tiny pop of your back end. “Fuck, Y/n, did you buy the whole store?”

You can’t help the way you laugh, more like a snort when you consider the way your sinuses are a mixture of frost and liquid cold. There’s no room to deny you went overboard, but you weren’t sure what to get and so you got a bit of everything. You took careful consideration to get at least one gift that made you think of them and the other was more of a Hail Mary in the event they found the first to be odd or in poor taste.

“No…there was a sale.” You lie, tutting when you grab a bag from Steve’s hand, prohibiting his prying eyes from breaching the delicate edges of the wrapping on one of the boxes. “No peeking!”

“Fine. Can I have a word then?” It’s testing the way he says it, like a parent mocking a child, asking for permission to scold them. You don’t think he means it that way, but Steve has become such a mystery to you. Or maybe you never really knew him at all. “I’m sure we’ve both got some things to say.”

“Now?” More a question of the cold than the actual conversation. You’re positive Steve won’t be able to feel a single one of his limbs when you step back inside. “I mean…should we start the car? You must be freezing.”

He considers you a moment, his hand tracing the underside of his jaw with the stiff angle of his thumb and pointer. You don’t wait, shoving the trunk closed. You round to the front seat assuming the dull crunch of Steve’s boots would soon follow. You take a few moments to yourself to breathe deep, fumbling with the ignition then the heat when Steve shuts the passenger door.

It was easy to forget how quickly Steve can consume you completely. You can still feel his breath on your neck and his cologne is already eating away at the flimsy tree freshener hanging from your mirror. Your nerves haven’t stopped itching since you first laid eyes on him sitting wide-legged on Joyce’s sofa, grumpy and put out at first glance but filled with an underlying current of joy beneath the surface.

“I haven’t seen you around in a while.” He cuts through the silence and you wonder if it was awkward for him, too caught in your own head to notice.

“Well I haven’t seen you either.” A childish observation, but one that isn’t untrue. “What are we doing here, Steve?”

“Honestly? I’m a little confused.” He props his legs on the dash, kicking snow onto the beaten plastic, it looks uncomfortable but you don’t mention it. He looks comfortable, nonchalant, it pisses you off.“We— I kinda thought…”

“Do you like me at all?” Steve’s eyes widen a fraction then shrink into the most accusing glare you’ve ever seen directed at you personally. Sure you’ve had pissed customers, but this was nothing like that. An attack on his character that he was unwilling to take lying down.

“Me? Are you serious right now?” You don’t take it back and he laughs, dragging his hand across his face, pushing his feet forward a little more so that dirt smudges your windshield. “I’m not the one who left.”

“I only left because I thought that's what you wanted.” It sounds lame, especially when the boy who hears them is blinking owlishly then scoffing perturbed. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Do I look confused? Because I’m really fucking confused.” You ache to reach for the radio, dialing it to a random station in hopes something silly plays to make you both laugh. It always works when you have a spat with Eddie.

But Steve is nothing like Eddie and you don’t think he’d find it as humorous, he’d probably think you’re making fun of him. Not to mention you don’t have those kinds of feelings for Eddie and he’d probably think it was stupid you’re arguing in the first place.

“Why would I want you to leave? I kinda thought we were on the same page.” You don’t agree or disagree because you don’t know what page Steve is on and you think it might be worse to ask for clarification. You feel petulant just sitting and staring out of the windshield, like it's fair to be mad at Steve because he’s right. You’re the one that walked out and now you’re both confused.

It’s like falling into old habits. Placing yourself below this invisible line, the one that convinced you no one like Steve Harrington could ever be interested. Not a tactic of self-doubt, more an improper balance in your perception of reality.

It’s allowed you to obfuscate feelings everyone around you knows to be true so you could create a caricature of Steve and assuage your own guilt and self destruction.

“When I woke up and you weren’t there…look we’re not in high school anymore. If you don’t—” He pauses, tosses the words around and drops his feet from the dash. He seems unsure, like he might just open the door and walk right back inside. His neck cranes, lolls on the seat rest until he’s looking at you pointedly. “I bought you a star.”

“Um…huh?”

“A star, I bought you one. I don’t have the certificate because I thought it might be stupid and clearly things between us are iffy at best, but I got it after we went stargazing.” You duck, the muscles edging your lips unwilling to fight the bashful way you smile into your coat.

“Wow. Steve, I don’t really know what to say.” You do know what to say —You’re a sentimental idiot and I’m in love with you— but you can’t find a voice with enough conviction to say it.

“I know it’s cheesy and dumb, but that’s kinda the point right? Because it’s cheesy and sometimes it makes me feel dumb the way I love you and— there it is.”

“There it is.” You nod, trying your damnedest not to look away from the saucers gaping back at you; glistening with his sudden burst of vulnerability. “I’m sorry.”

Steve deflates, hand resting on the door handle for the perfect escape. You can imagine him walking inside like none of this happened, playing the part of the babysitter, unshakable in his role as the reluctant feigned role model.

“I’m sorry that I left that day.” You remedy, reaching for his free hand, the one hanging limp near the center console. Your eyes fall there as well, tracing the half frozen skin and hoping he can feel the warmth crawling through your veins from your blood pumping organ. “I guess I just thought it was a one off for you. I didn’t think you were into me and I equated that to getting out while I was ahead.”

Steve’s hand tightens around yours, you hope in understanding but you’re too afraid to check.

“Then you avoided me so I avoided you because I thought that’s what you wanted and Lucas said that Dustin said that you said it didn’t matter. So, I thought everything would be fine, awkward but fine and I could get over the fact that I’m stupidly in love with you.”

You finish, finally peeking up from your intertwined hands. You’re not sure if he caught any of that, it was half mumbled and the words strung together at odd angles.

Steve’s grin is lopsided, the realization that if anything you’re both idiots but it’s fine because you’re idiots in love.

“I’m sorry, but I was so obvious.” He laughs pitifully, wondering which of you is worse. “And I said those things to Dustin because I was trying to get over you and he was being a pain in my ass.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.”

“But I’m—”

“I forgive you.” He hushes, tracing just beneath your lower lip. He glances at the flesh there like he isn’t sure and you give him a moment, breaking the tension when you reach toward the glove compartment. “What are you doing?”

“I got you a gift too.” It never seems like there’s much in the tiny space until you’re looking for one specific thing, then your whole life is compact and every bit of it is shoved inside.

“You mean mine isn’t one of those fancy ones wrapped in the back?” Steve teases, shifting under your glare to give you more leverage.

“Shut up, this isn’t a Christmas gift.” Your lip is jutting out and you can feel Steve staring holes into your profile. “It’s in here, I swear.”

He doesn’t argue, waiting for the sudden moment when you find purchase on the tiny decorative box and straighten with a breathless Ah ha!

“What is it?” His curiosity molds well with the suspicion lacing his tone and you have half a mind to be offended. Instead, you hand it over, no explanation needed until he takes the geometric packaging and delicately pulls the ribbon dressed in the center so it cascades down the sides of his palm.

He eyes you wearily and you nod toward the box, leaning toward him ever so slightly in your own unbridled anticipation. You’ve shoved your hands beneath you so as not to suddenly jolt forward and do the deed on his behalf.

“Steve, please.”

“It’s nothing big, right? You’re not gonna propose or something? Because I’m not ready for that kind of commitment, I’m only just starting to hope we’re on the same page with dating.”

“Steven!” You swat his arm, his smile charming enough that you smile in return when he catches your wrist, his lips grazing your pulse.

“Alright, alright! We are on the same page with dating though, right?”

“Not if you don’t open the box.” You’ve missed the ability to feel so light with him and you think you’ve cheated somehow, getting back here so quickly.

You watch him slowly release the lid, discarding it against his slacks. He fishes the fresh band of leather with frightened fingers, tracing the clasp and the initials S.H. that meet like pieces of a puzzle. You try not to be too expectant, you don’t want him to pretend to like it out of some sense of duty.

“What’s it for?” He coughs, voice scratchy and thick where it crawls up his throat. “You said it’s not a Christmas gift.”

“No, it’s not.” You agree, angling your body toward him a bit more. You nudge the hand holding the leather braided bracelet, a silent command which he follows flawlessly dropping it into your own. His fingers trace the edges as if afraid he’d only ever hold it for those few moments.

You wrap it around his wrist, clasping it tight enough to kiss his skin but loose enough that it feels like a part of him, not like it’s suffocating him. You can feel him looking back at you when you trace the engraved clasp, slowly trailing the curve of the S.

“It’s more of a going away gift I guess,” You shrug.

“Am I going somewhere?”

“Maybe someday, maybe not. But it’s like a promise that no matter what you have yourself and the belief that you can do good things.” Your finger travels to the H, taking your time with each line, going over it a second and third time. “The H could also stand for Hawkins, your first home, the place you found family, the place that will always be here for you for better or worse.”

“The place I met you.” He adds, hand finding the underside of your chin so suddenly you don’t think much of it when your faces are only inches apart. “You’re amazing, you know that? I think this is the nicest thing anyone’s ever given me.”

“I don’t know, Dustin’s birthday gift last year sounded pretty awesome.”

“I can’t believe all I got you was a star—”

“Hey, I love my star! Don’t you say a word about my star.” You scold, a sudden thought cropping up. “You do know where it is, right? Like you can show it to me?”

Steve looks through the dash uneasily, like he is in this moment attempting to find said star in the snow clouded sky. “I’m sure it says so on the certificate. Right?”

“What am I gonna do with you?”

“You could let me kiss you?” You do him one better, surging forward with a rush of immediacy to kiss him.

It’s different this time around, not the precise movements of discarded clothes and the awkward discovery of how you fit. This time when you kiss it’s gentle but firm, chilly but warm. It’s every feeling neither of you could confidently express in words just yet.

It’s you and Steve framed by the perfect winter, one that’ll probably leave you both with sniffles and a slight fever in the coming days.

There’s a fishbowl-like tap on the passenger window and you jump apart to a chorus of hooded faces cramped and smushed against the glass. You don’t know whether to laugh or feel mortified they’d caught you.

“Are you two done kissing? We’re kinda waiting to open presents and you’ve been out here for like a half hour.” Dustin deadpans, clearly not amused in the slightest.

You decide he’s probably too busy reveling in his genius when you see him and Lucas not-so-sneakily fist bump behind Will’s head. You find Max next and she rolls her eyes but smiles nonetheless, jerking Steve’s door open so the guys can all but drag him out of the car. She takes his place, eying you for a second, ignoring the way El and Robin have both poked their heads so they’re peeking over each shoulder.

“What a year, huh?” She huffs, her tone giving you no real indication on how she feels about the whole thing.

“What a year.” You agree, yanking your key from the engine. As if on cue Lucas appears at your door to retrieve it so they can actually gather presents this time. You can hear the boy’s triumph when they make Steve’s earlier discovery and start debating which gifts they think are theirs.

“Sorry I’ve been so MIA lately.” It’s a poor apology, but you know Max understands for the moment when she hums and glances in the rearview, to Max and Robin, then back at you.

“We hope you know Steve is still not invited to girls night.”

“Of course not! But I hope you know you’ll be the ones breaking the news to him.”

#steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington x reader series

131 notes · View notes

loveshotzz · 4 months

Text

I guess it’s never really over

mechanic!steve harrington x fem!reader exes to lovers

summary: Convinced by your best friend to return to Hawkins for the summer, nothing is like how you left it five years ago, including the boy you’ve done nothing but try and forget.

warnings: 18+ for smut, each chapter will have their own warnings, exes to lovers, drinking, smoking, angst/hurt, comfort, late/80’s early 90’s, no upside down, Robin is your best friend and Steve’s too 🙄, also featuring mechanic!eddie.

📻 series playlist

Late arrivals and big asks

I might kill my ex, not the best idea

This has got to be the longest crush ever

Honey, on your knees when you look at me

Kissin’ and I hope they caught us - coming soon 🌻

You could do damage

Slow dance these summer nights

Just because it’s over doesn’t mean it’s really over

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington series #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader smut

1K notes · View notes

andvys · 4 months

Text

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

And my, my love had been frozen. Deep blue, but you painted me golden.

Warnings: 18+, mdni! there will be smut in the future chapters. enemies to lovers, 'she fell first, he fell harder' kind of trope, allusions to unrequited love, mentions of death, injuries, allusions to self hatred, mentions of bullying, this story is set post s4, Vecna and the upside down are gone. slow burn. ‘hate’ sex. fwb kinda thing but they’re ‘enemies’. mean!reader, mean!Steve, hurt/comfort, happy ending.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You and Steve have never seen eye to eye, and it never changed, not even when you were pulled into a world of monsters and risked your life to save him. But tension had always been between you both, something that neither of you ever wanted to admit -- but how much longer can you take it when the pull between you gets stronger and stronger each second you spend by each others side?

♡

Prologue

Chapter one ⭐︎ Waiting Room

Chapter two ⭐︎ I want you to notice, when I’m not around

Chapter three ⭐︎ So if you need to be mean, be mean to me

Chapter four ⭐︎ Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness

Chapter five ⭐︎'Cause you know it could never be

Chapter six ⭐︎ Secrets I have held in my heart

Chapter seven ⭐︎ Got a feeling your electric touch, could fill this ghost town up with life

Chapter eight ⭐︎ Say my name and everything just stops

Chapter nine ⭐︎ And I'll show you if you let me, girl

Chapter ten ⭐︎ Weigh down on me, stay 'til morning

Chapter eleven ⭐︎ Yeah, I know it seems surprising when there’s lipstick still on the glass

Chapter twelve ⭐︎ When the curtains call the time, will we both go home alive?

Chapter thirteen ⭐︎ For a moment, I was heaven struck

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

Chapter fifteen ⭐︎ I thought the plane was going down, how'd you turn it right around?

Chapter sixteen ⭐︎ Hold me, love me, touch me, honey

Chapter seventeen ⭐︎ What am I supposed to do? If there's no you.

Chapter eighteen ⭐︎ Tell me 'bout the first time you saw me

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington series #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington enemies to lovers

3K notes · View notes

munsonson · 1 year

Text

𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏『••✎••』

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘜𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘔𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘯/𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘰𝘯/𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.4

This shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.

Things could’ve ended far worse than they actually did. Hell, most of the couples in their school tended to make breakups as dramatic as possible, normally painting one half of the relationship as some kind if irredeemable monster, if not to paint them as this sympathetic martyr, than just to save face that it actually hurt.

In her case, Eddie Munson told her they just weren’t a good match and he wanted to be friends again instead. That was as healthy as they could possibly get. And in the best case scenario, too, she’d still be able to have him be a part of her life. She didn’t think she could stand the thought of seeing him in the halls and not being able to acknowledge him.

She’d fallen hard and fast for Eddie, embarrassingly so.

Given the heavy duty of designated driver for the little hooligans she’d somehow decided to adopt with Steve Harrington, she’d gotten accustomed to waiting in the high school parking lot, her nose pressed into the creases of her current novel while she waited for them to finish their important campaigns, all procured from the brilliant mind of Eddie Munson.

She’d known him before then, too, but only in passing. He’d often make a big spectacle of himself in the cafeteria just to bug the other students, and he held the record as super senior. But she’d never even talked to him until she saw him walk the boys out after a seemingly successful campaign, his arms wrapped tightly around Dustin and Lucas’ shoulders as he praised them.

He’d acknowledged her when he got to her car.

“My fair maiden,” he’d said, “I apologize for the delay.”

She’d blubbered out some kind of half-hearted response, good enough to make him laugh, and that made her heart go a million miles a minute.

It didn’t take long before she’d gotten the courage to ask him out, even if it was just for coffee. He was surprised, but he agreed.

It had been nice, he even drove her home after. She probably should’ve seen the signs then because he didn’t suggest a second meet up, she had instead. And he’d agreed.

It was about a month before they made themselves official, in Hawkins High language, practically married. But it really just meant she got to hold his hand between classes and get quick kisses goodbye when it was time to separate, somehow always on her cheek than her lips.

She’d thought their dates were fun; it was a lot of pressure since he always left it up to her, never having any other idea than lounging about her home and just watching TV. But she was the one who thought of renting movies for horror marathons, figuring it was up his alley. She thought of bowling and drive-in theaters and picnicking near the quarry for its desolate atmosphere, another thing she figured was right up his alley.

But things came to an underwhelming end when Eddie approached her at her locker on some random Thursday to tell her things just weren’t working out and he wanted to stay as friends. Despite how much even that had hurt, she agreed. She didn’t want to make him do anything he regretted.

She could still be friends with him, happily so. That meant she could still sit with him at lunch, hear his outlandish tales, and be able to admire him from afar, even if she was no longer able to touch him and hold his hand.

“Be honest,” she’d heard Gareth say as she approached with her tray, “what really happened? You know, most guys woulda killed to be able to take her out, the fact she stuck around for months is surprising enough.”

Eddie shrugs, chewing absentmindedly on a pretzel he’d brought. She would pack him lunches when they were together since he always forgot and resorted to eating prepackaged things instead. Since they broke up, it seemed like old habits really did die hard.

“To tell you the truth,” he starts rather dramatically, “no substance. Pretty face, nice voice, real sweet, but God, boring as all hell.” He runs a hand down his face. The other boys seemed surprised. Dustin and Mike share a look, but say nothing, clearly waiting to hear more. Because there was no way it could be just that. There had to be more. They knew her better than anyone, had been through so much with her. What could be the real reason Eddie broke things off?

“And?” Dustin coaxes.

“And what?”

“Dude, seriously?” Mike scoffs. “She wasn’t interesting enough for you?”

Eddie shakes his head. “Look, she’s a great gal. And I know you guys are super close, which is awesome, but we just weren’t the best match. And I felt like shit that she was putting in all of the effort when I wasn’t interested. Now she’s free to...I dunno...find someone boring, too.” He sniggers, elbowing Jeff beside him trying to get him to laugh, too, but he could see how upset Dustin and Mike were.

Luckily, for her sake, they didn’t notice her standing there, having overheard everything. Spinning right back around, she’d ditched her tray onto one of the trash bins before leaving the cafeteria completely before there was a chance anyone could see her tears.

God, it shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, she thinks again. He was more than welcome to have his own opinion, but why did it have to be something like that?

He was right, she wasn’t exactly Chrissy Cunningham or Heather Holloway, being this huge spectacle that made every new day more exciting than the last. All things considered, sometimes too much excitement frightened her. Having risked her life at least once a year for nearly four years now made her yearn for the more simple things. It was stupid of her to think Eddie would want the same. Eddie Munson, who liked to make scenes in the cafeteria and rock out in a bar with his band. He didn’t crave the simplicity of life like she did.

She didn’t go back into that cafeteria for the remaining of the lunch period. In fact, she’d decided to skip the rest of the day completely, knowing she shared three periods with Eddie and right now she really didn’t want to see him. She just wanted to get away, leave herself to her own thoughts to try to calm down.

Well, that really only lasted for ten minutes because she found herself pulling into the small parking lot into Family Video. She spots Steve’s car at the far end and knows he’s inside. It was childish of her to go running and crying to Steve Harrington, who she knew would take her side and say all the cruel things about Eddie that she couldn’t bring herself to because she really just needed someone on her side right now. Aside from Dustin and Mike, of course. She wouldn’t forget how they jumped to her defense.

The little bell rings at the top of the door as she walks in, startling Steve into consciousness, who seemed to be snoozing on the edge of the counter, drool pooled across his forearm. He wipes feverishly at his face and blinks unfocused in her direction, trying to situate himself quickly into his customer service face.

“Welcome to Fam-Jesus, you scared me,” he cuts himself off when he at last realizes it’s her. Confused, he turns to glance at the clock hung up on the wall. “Don’t tell me school’s out already? You beat Robin here.”

“No, I’m playing hooky,” she shakes her head, unsteadily moving towards the counter.

“What? You? I’m sorry, am I still dreaming?” Steve asks dramatically. “Since when do you, of all people, ever skip class? I’d sooner believe Nancy doing it than you.”

“Just...needed a break s’all,” she says with a shrug, looking around. “Keith not here?”

“Nah, he’s off today. Something about a new graphic novel he’s been dying to get. Says he’d have to wait overnight just to get one of the first editions. I don’t know, I don’t really listen to him unless he’s handing over my check,” Steve said. She leans up against the counter, trying to act casual. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t things be okay?”

“Well, for one, having to clarify that things are supposed to be okay when asked if everything’s okay is a pretty big indicator that things aren’t, in fact, okay.” Steve says with a laugh. “So everything’s not okay, then?”

“Everything’s okay,” she lies. “I just...can I ask you something?”

“Yeah?”

She isn’t sure how to come out and say it without sounding stupid. Better, she can’t figure out a way to come out and say it without sounding completely pathetic. But this was Steve, he was the king of asking her embarrassing things. He even called her once at three in the morning to ask how long you were supposed to leave cookies in the oven for. The follow up question was how to get the burnt smell out before his mom came home.

“Am I boring?”

Steve tilts his head. “Huh?”

“Am I boring, Steve? Am I boring?”

“No? Who gave you that idea?” Steve snorts, like he thinks it was a foolish thing to ask. “Whoever it is clearly hasn’t seen you handle a crowbar.” He was referencing when she’d nabbed a crowbar from the junkyard lot to fend off the demodogs with him, all to protect the little ones in the bus. She doesn’t want to remember that right now, not when it makes her feel cold inside.

“Nobody, I just...I dunno, I just think that maybe I’m not as exciting as, like...you o-or Rob or Nancy or, hell, even Jonathan.”

“Nonsense, you’re a badass! True story, you know I wouldn’t say that about just any...” Steve trails off, finally really looking at her. “Hey...hey, why are you really askin’ me that? Something happen? Someone say something to you?”

“No, Steve, I was just asking.”

“You’re lying,” he accuses. “Who was it, was it Byers? Nancy? Not Robin...”

“No! No, Steve, they didn’t say anything, please just drop it. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Steve’s face eventually relaxes, having realized he knew exactly who she was talking about.

“Munson.”

She shakes her head. “Stop it, Steve.”

“What did he say? I thought he just wanted to be friends, where’s all this coming from?” he asked. There were too many questions being thrown at her. She doesn’t want to cry, especially not in front of him, but as soon as she feels her cheek dampen that was it. Soon she was burying her face in her hands and trying to stop the little whimpers from coming out.

She doesn’t notice Steve leap easily over the counter. He pulls her close, shushing her quietly.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset,” he says. She sniffles, wrapping her arms around him. He’s petting her hair, kissing the crown of her head, trying his damndest to get her to calm down and talk to him. He was the perfect person to come to, she now realizes. Her subconscious knew Steve was the answer.

When she finally stopped crying, he at last let her go, giving her some space.

She rubs the tears from her eyes and wipes the tears on her jeans.

“Want me to kill him?” he asks jokingly. She laughs. He smiles again. “What happened? Can you tell me now?”

She told him what Eddie had said, the real reason he’d broken up with her and how she ran from the cafeteria and came here. Steve was reasonably upset, but he didn’t want to make it all about pounding Eddie into a pulp, he knew she needed her friend right now and he was prepared to be just that.

“Hey, screw him,” Steve scoffs, throwing an arm over her shoulders and pulling her back into his chest. “You’re far from boring, believe me, and honestly if you ask me you could do so much better than Eddie Munson. The guy picks his nose. I saw him once. It was gnarly.”

She’s laughing again, playfully hitting him.

“Thank you, Steve,” she says, “I’m sorry to dump all this on you, I just needed someone to talk to, you know?”

“Well, you came to the right guy. I can’t tell you it gets much better from public humiliation, but I can tell you that you find much better shit to focus on. Like this obviously stellar job. Robin. My new stereo I saved up for. And...well, you.” He playfully flicks her nose. She wrinkles her nose and swats his hand away. “Eddie doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about. But I know he’s gonna kick himself in the ass when he realizes he lost a girl like you.”

“Yeah, you’re just saying that ‘cause you’re my friend.”

“Not true, I also wanna bug you for your famous cookies.” Steve winks.

“I can bring them to you tonight, then.” she said, patting his arm. “I should get going. Um...you clearly are very busy and I don’t wanna keep you from doing your job.”

“I know, such a bad influence. The gateway rebellion was skipping class. Now it’s job defiance,” Steve chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey, um...if you want, when you come by tonight, maybe you could stick around? Was gonna rifle through the back, borrow some flicks to waste my evening away. Free to join me if you want? Robin flaked out on me, says she’s doing some band practice with Vicky. Didn’t ask for details.”

She thinks about it and smiles. “Sounds like fun. Girls’ night.”

“Invitation rescinded!” Steve shouts, turning away.

“No, I’m kidding, I’m kidding, stop!” she protests, giggling. “I’ll bring cookies and pizza, Steve. I’ll be there.”

“Alright, then,” Steve said. “Um...hey, don’t worry about Eddie, alright? He’s just being a dick. And honestly, apart from his relationship with the rugrats, he’s still gonna be a dick. He missed out on a girl like you. Clearly he’s a martian.”

“Doesn’t mean much when I’m from Hawkins. But thank you, Steve. I’ll see you tonight,” she says, squeezing his hand and finally leaving the store back to her car. She left feeling much lighter than she had going in. He was right. Forget Eddie. If he thought she was so boring he clearly didn’t need her around him. She had other friends, friends like Steve.

Smiling to herself, she climbs into the driver’s seat and turns the key into the ignition, hearing the engine roar to life.

Things would be just fine.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson angst #steve harrington angst #jane hopper #eleven #max mayfield #jonathan byers #series

7K notes · View notes

harrywavycurly · 2 months

Text

Summary: Eddie Munson has two problems, he is lonely and is tired of spending money on just himself. Lucky for Eddie his good friend Steve Harrington knows just the person to help solve these little problems, and of course that person would be you. You’re newly single after ending things with your loser ex boyfriend and Steve just wants you to experience the finer things in life for a change as well as seeing what it’s like to be treated with kindness and respect. You don’t really know Eddie and Eddie doesn’t really know you but one thing is for certain, he will make sure you get exactly what you deserve♥️

Pairing: Sugar Daddy Eddie Munson x fem!reader

CW: Mentions of a toxic past relationship, language and the briefest mentions of violence (Eddie has a temper)

Status: Ongoing

Tag List: Open

A/N: I wanted this series to be a little different and it will still be fluffy but will also include dealing with past relationship trauma✨

Instagrams: Here

Conversations: Here

Everything Else: Here

*you’ll find everything in the correct order below*

Part 1: Think About It

Part 2: Dave

Part 3: Start Small

Part 4: Overwhelmed

Part 5: Details

Part 6: Not Real

Part 7.1: Not Okay

Part 7.2: Up Late

Part 8: You Have Five

Part 9: Teacher

Part 10: It Counts

Part 11: Care Package bonus convo with you and Eddie here

Part 12: Is This You?

533 notes · View notes

supernovafics · 8 months

Text

•*⁀➷ ❝ 𝐈’𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔. ❞✧∘ ✭・.✫・゜·。.

supernovafics!

✭•*⁀➷ a bestfriend!steve harrington roommate au slightly inspired by the tv show “friends” ·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

a year in the lives of you and your best friend steve harrington. you never thought that you would be living with this guy you’ve known since you were ten— although it was a hypothetical topic that was discussed at length during the many sleepovers you had over the years. but somehow on a hectic day in august, the stars managed to align, and the next thing you know a lease is being signed and the two of you are moving into a two-bedroom apartment. so far it’s been two months of countless late nights and too many really early mornings where you’re running late to class or steve’s rushing to get to his shift at family video. for the most part, though, it’s a perfect situation. until the lines that felt as if they were clearly drawn in the sand— and had been there from perhaps the moment you and him met— start getting blurrier and blurrier

warnings: bestfriend!steve, roommate!steve, childhood best friends to (eventual) lovers, two idiots in love (but neither wanna admit it), Big Big slow burn, besties being besties, minimal angst, mainly just a lot of fun vibes, eventual smut (minors dni!), many familiar faces (robin, eddie, sometimes the kids), no use of y/n, specific warnings will be tagged per chapter

important note! this will be a very “low stakes” series (there’s not really a super specific storyline happening in this), and i’m really just gonna post for it whenever i’m in the mood/feel inspired for it. i already have a bunch of random ideas for this universe that i wanna eventually do, but requests are open for anything you wanna see with these roommates/besties<333 (also oneshots/blurbs will be posted non-chronologically but will be listed chronologically, so you can pretty much read in any order you want to!)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

fall 1985

love is a game (the one where you and steve have a “housewarming party”)

let’s forget it (the one where steve sees you naked)

third street (the one at the diner in the middle of the night)

silly promises (the one at dairy queen)

take a picture (the one with batman & robin)

from the dining table (the one with the early thanksgiving dinner)

never talk about it (the one where you see steve naked)

just a feeling (the one with steve’s date)

winter 1985/1986

the first fall of snow (the one where the kids spend the night)

care for you (the one where you’re both sick)

maybe this year (the one with the bet)

closing time (the one at family video)

while you were sleeping (the one with steve’s epiphany)

only for you (the one where you and steve play basketball)

in the middle of the night (the one with the ski trip)

worth waiting for (the one after the ski trip) (18+)

spring 1986

between you and me (the one where you and steve are secretly dating)

tell me a secret (the one where everyone finds out)

take my hand (the one where you and steve are chaperones at a school dance)

stay with me (the one where you come home drunk and steve takes care of you)

much better (the one with the "celebratory dinner")

summer 1986

one more second (the one with the barbecue)

#steve harrington series #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fluff #steve harrington #stranger things imagine #stranger things series #stranger things smut

2K notes · View notes

superblysubpar · 2 months

Text

Baby, I Can't Fight This Feeling

co-worker steve harrington x fem reader | enemies to lovers

A childhood (or maybe just downright childish) rivalry that began for reasons neither of you knew still rages between your co-worker, Steve Harrington, and yourself as adults.

You’ve watched the rise and fall and weird somewhat rise again of King Steve, and now, you find yourselves having to share friends, work space, and god dammit if he touches your red vines one more fucking time –

A cocky attitude leads to an immature bet between your best friend, Eddie Munson, and Steve.

One week to woo, to get her to swoon. One week to prove that Steve Harrington is back, and that his charm could work on anyone.

Even you.

key things to note - the warnings

Come Crashing Through Your Door

Can't Hold Out Forever

Getting Closer Than I Ever Thought

Cold, Dark Winter's Night

I'm Following You, Girl

Forgotten What I Started Fighting For

Afraid To Let It Show

Crawl Upon The Floor

Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore

You may have seen a different masterlist and two chapters of this posted awhile ago! I'm reposting my masterlist and I've revamped my storyline, including the first two chapters slightly. I had a tough time with the engagement difference between the masterlist and the first two chapters posting and it caused me a major roadblock - writing and confidence/joy in the story.

Now though, I've fallen back in love with the new story and I can't wait for you to read it. Any new love for it is greatly appreciated!

This is my last fic that will have a tag list.

📼 Return To Main Menu

#steve harrington #steve harrington series #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #enemies to lovers #stranger things fanfiction #BICFTF #superbly subpar's writing #Spotify

499 notes · View notes

worth-the-chaos · 16 days

Text

Adventures in Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 17

Chapter Summary: After finding out more information about Vecna, you and your friends prepare for the worst, and tensions rise as you mentally prepare for the possibility of a future without you in it.

Content Warning: swearing, general angst, mentions of sex (like nothing graphic or explicit), Jason being a dick, Upside Down scary shit, existential dread

Word Count: 7.7k

Author’s Note: Hey guys! I’m so sorry that this took so long for me to get written! I am home for summer now, so I’m hoping to have some more down time to write, so hopefully the next chapter won’t take so long! I also am curious as to what you guys think I should do with the story regarding the fact that season 5 isn’t out yet…should I go on hiatus until season 5 drops or would you rather me write an ending with season 4?

Message me to be added to the taglist and get updated when the next chapter is posted! I highly recommend this if you want to keep up with the story since I don’t do regular updates!

Series Masterlist | Part 16 | Next Part

***

Steve felt your body go limp as you dropped the makeshift rope, your head lolling backwards as you collapsed towards him. His heart stopped as he swiftly set you down on the floor next to him, pulling back to look at you.

He felt sick to his stomach when he noticed the way your eyes were rolled into the back of your head, and he felt like he was suffocating on the ash that drifted in between the two of you.

“Y/n,” he shook your shoulders, desperation lacing his voice. You didn’t respond, the only indication that you were still there was a slight whimper that escaped your parted lips. He shook you more aggressively and felt like he could vomit at the way your body caved to inertia.

You were somewhere else.

“Y/n, baby—stay with me!” Steve shouted, his voice cracking as fear invaded his tone, “Wake up, y/n! Wake up!”

His eyes were welling with tears and he felt like his legs were going to give out as panic began to fill his chest. He felt like he was drowning. You had always been his lifeline and he felt like he was watching you fade from existence. Blood started to drip from your nose, and he gently wiped it away, breaking down at the sight of it.

“Come on, y/n,” he sobbed as he pulled you closer, trying to shield you from the dangers of this strange world. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he whispered into your neck as he buried his head there, placing a small kiss against your skin.

He heard arguing above him, and his attention was momentarily pulled back towards the world he was trying desperately to get you back to.

“Madonna, Blondie, Bowie, Beatles—Music! We need music!” Robin’s voice rang out, and he heard the clatter of mixtapes falling to the floor.

“This is music!” Eddie shouted back.

Suddenly, Steve remembered the walkman in your pocket, and his fingers furiously pulled at the ziplock bag. His hands were shaking and he cursed himself as he struggled to get the bag open. He placed the headphones over your ears, hitting play and turning the volume up. He could hear the music faintly playing and watched as your eyes continued their rapid movement side to side underneath your eyelids.

He held his breath, hoping that something—anything—would change, and he thought the world was ending when it didn’t.

But then, suddenly, your eyes shot open as a gasp escaped your lips. You began falling backward and Steve barely had time to wrap his arms around your back to slow your fall, dropping to the floor with you.

You panted and your whole body trembled at the horrors you just witnessed. Vecna—or more accurately Henry Creel’s voice still rang in your ears as you hyperventilated, trying to push the images aside. As you began to settle, another voice filled your consciousness.

“It’s okay, baby. I’m here. I’m right here,” you looked up to see your boyfriend’s big brown eyes staring down at you with concern and love and all the words he still had yet to say to you.

Your terrified expression broke into one of great sadness as tears began to fall down your face while sobs wracked your tired frame.

“Sweetheart,” Steve’s voice was a whisper as he wiped away your tears, neglecting the ones that were falling from his own eyes. He cradled your head in his hands and you melted at his touch. In this moment, it was just the two of you; nothing else mattered and nothing else existed.

You took in the sight of Eddie’s denim vest draped over his shoulders, your eyes drifting to his bare arms and the blood and dirt caked against his skin. “We have to get out of here,” you whispered, your fingers gripping into his bicep.

With that, Steve swiftly stood up, and helped you back onto the makeshift rope. You felt his hand on your ass as he pushed you up, trying to quicken the pace at which you climbed. You saw the way your friends stared at you from the real world, concern lacing their features. As you crossed the threshold between the Upside Down and your world, you felt your stomach drop as the gravity switched directions. Your heart jumped to your throat as you free fell for a moment before hitting the springy mattress with the questionable stains.

You didn’t lie there for long before Robin grabbed your arm, pulling you to your feet and into the tightest hug she’d probably ever given you. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying not to cry at the horrors you’d just witnessed as you held on to her. You released a breath you didn’t even realize you’d been holding as you heard a soft thud behind you, knowing your boyfriend had made it safely out of the hell that you’d just been stuck in for far too long for your liking.

“We can stay at my house tonight,” Max spoke up and you broke away from Robin to face her, “my mom should be gone until tomorrow afternoon so we should be fine.”

And with that, you all quickly made your way over to Max’s under the cover of night. Once you got there, everyone spread out as much as possible in the small home to camp out to sleep and Steve and you curled up together on the floor in the living room.

You shut your eyes tight as you tried to tune out the ticking of a small clock on the living room shelf. You buried your face in the crook of Steve’s neck as you both drifted off into a restless sleep.

***

The next morning everyone gave you a bit of space and no one really talked much, giving you a bit of time to cool down from the events of the night before. When you were finally ready, you all huddled up in the living room and everyone waited with bated breath for you to explain what you saw.

You cleared your throat before you spoke up. “He…showed me things that haven’t happened yet. The most awful things. I saw a dark cloud spreading over Hawkins. Downtown on fire. Dead soldiers. And this…giant creature with…a-a gaping mouth, a-a-and this creature wasn’t alone; there were so many monsters—an army—and they were coming into Hawkins, into our neighborhoods…our homes.”

You could barely get some of the words out, taking a deep breath before you continued. “And then he showed me my parents, and-and you guys and you w-were all….” Your voice trailed off as a lump formed in your throat, unable to say the words, afraid that you would speak it into existence. Tears began streaming down your face and Steve was quick to try and ease your pain.

“Okay, but…he’s just trying to scare you, baby. Right? I mean, it’s not real,” he tried to be the voice of reason, but his tone showed his lack of confidence in the truth he was trying to present. The real truth was that none of you knew what was going on, what would happen next.

“Not yet,” you whispered through teary eyes, “but…but there was something else. He showed me gates. Four gates, spreading across Hawkins. They looked like the one outside Eddie’s trailer, but they didn’t stop growing, and this wasn’t Upside Down Hawkins, this was our Hawkins.”

You looked between your friends, each one’s face twisted with worry and fear. The kids all looked so much older, the weight of the world constantly on their shoulders aging them, causing them to grow up too fast. You pushed the thought down as you continued. “Four chimes. Vecna’s clock always chimes four times. He’s been telling us his plan this whole time.”

“Four kills, four gates, end of the world,” Lucas spoke up, elaborating on your explanation.

“If that’s true,” Dustin took over, “he’s only one kill away.”

You felt everyone’s eyes turn to you, and you shrank under their stares, knowing that you were next.

“Try them again, try them again,” Steve looked at Max and she rushed to the phone. Max fingers worried at the cord of the phone before she hung it back up and turned around.

“Rang a few times and then went to busy signal,” she announced.

“Maybe you punched it in wrong, just try again,” Steve pushed, desperation lacing his tone.

“I didn’t punch it in wrong,” Max rolled her eyes.

“Dude I think she knows how to use a phone,” Dustin defended the redhead.

Max dialed again anyway, hanging up the phone with a resounding clang before turning around with a look that screamed I told you so plastered across her face. “Same shit.”

“I told you, Joyce has this telemarketer job. She’s always on the phone, Mike’s always whining about it,” Dustin explained.

“Yeah, but the phone’s been busy for, what, three days now? That’s not Joyce. No way. Something’s wrong,” Max countered.

“Whatever’s happening in Lenora, it’s connected to all of this,” you spoke up. “But Vecna can’t hurt them…not if he’s dead. We have to go back to the Upside Down.”

Steve and Eddie both immediately voiced their disagreement, Steve standing to put his two cents in.

“Woah, woah, woah, let’s think this through,” he put his hands up in a pacifying way trying to calm down your impulsivity.

“What is there to think through?!”

“Y/n, we barely made it out of there in one piece!”

“Yeah, because we weren’t prepared! But this time we will be. We’ll get weapons and protection, we’ll go through the gate, we’ll find his lair, and we’ll kill him.”

“Or he’ll kill us!” Steve yelled back at you. “The only reason you survived is because he wanted you to. He’s not scared of us and I’ll be damned if I let him have a chance to hurt you again. No, not happening.”

He said the words with such finality, but you opened your mouth to argue with him again, anger boiling below the surface. Before you could speak, Robin spoke up.

“We learned something new about Vecna/Henry/One…He’s a number like Eleven, only a sick, evil, male, child-murdering version of her with really bad skin, but-but my point is, he’s super powerful. He could turn us inside out with the snap of his fingers, it is not a fair fight.”

“So why fight fair?” Dustin interjected, “he’s like Eleven but that gives us an upper hand. We know Eleven’s strengths and weaknesses. When El remote-travels, she goes into this sort of trance-like state. I bet the same is true of Vecna. When he attacks his next victim, I bet he’s back in that attic, physical body defenseless.”

“Defenseless? Yeah? What about the army of bats?” Steve gestured to the deep bruising around his neck from his last encounter with Vecna’s very present defenses.

“True. We’ll have to find a way past them. Distract them…somehow,” Henderson replied.

“And, uh, how do we do that exactly?” Eddie looked like he was damn near close to killing the boy.

“No idea. But once they’re gone, he doesn’t stand a chance. It’ll be like slaying sleeping Dracula in his coffin.”

“That all sounds good in theory, but there is no pattern to Vecna’s killings. I mean, at least not one that I can decipher. We don’t know when he’s going to attack next. We don’t even know who he’s going to attack next.” Robin countered.

“Yeah we do,” you spoke up, “I can still feel him. I ditch Kate Bush and I draw his focus back to me.”

“No way in fucking hell!” Steve was quick to cut across the room to approach you. “He’ll kill you!”

“I survived before, I can survive again…I-I just need to keep him busy long enough so that you guys can get into that attic.”

“There’s got to be another way,” Steve pleaded, grabbing your hands in his, his thumbs gently rubbing over the back of your hands.

“Maybe there is,” Dustin spoke up. “Y/n, other than last night—which was clearly just a scare tactic—the last vision you had was in the cemetery, right?”

“Yeah?” Your words came out as a question, not quite following the fast paced turning of the gears in the young genius’s mind.

“Well, then maybe he isn’t after you anymore…I mean, you basically found the antidote. He can’t get to you with that music playing, so maybe you don’t have to be bait at all…maybe he’s moved on to someone else.”

“That’s so highly hypothetical, Dustin. I mean, we’re not in a position where we can operate purely on a hunch!” Robin exclaimed. She wanted nothing more than for it to be true, for you to be safer than you had been, but it was too big a risk to take.

“Think about it! If Vecna was going to kill y/n, why didn’t he just do it last night? They all spent hours in the Upside Down yesterday, and he didn’t even try to get her until the very end to send a message! We’re all so convinced that Vecna isn’t scared of us, but maybe—even to just a small degree—maybe he is.”

“He’s always been two steps ahead of us,” you spoke up, your voice quiet but sure.

“Exactly! And I can’t help but think that he is expecting us to fawn over y/n, trying to keep her safe to prevent the end of the world while he’s just gearing up to cause it somewhere else.”

“I mean, I gotta say, that kind of makes a shit ton of sense,” Eddie supported the boy’s hypothesis.

“But what if we’re wrong?” Steve questioned. “What if we’re wrong and Vecna is still coming for her and she fucking dies? What then?”

“If we don’t do anything, it’s the end of the world either way; it’s just a matter of time,” you replied. You sounded so confident and your words seemed final. He knew you were stubborn enough that once you settled on something, there was no way that you were budging on it. It was something he loved about you—your pure grit, your determination—but he couldn’t help but hate it in this moment.

Eddie had moved across the small living room, pulling a thick phonebook from the highest shelf. He quickly thumbed through it and brushed past you, dropping it down on the table with a satisfying thud.

“Check this out. The War Zone,” he pointed to the bottom left corner of the page, “I’ve been there once. It’s huge…they’ve got everything you need for, uh…well, uh, killing things, basically.”

“Do you think fake Rambo has enough guns there? Is that a grenade? I mean how is any of this even legal?” Robin inquired, critiquing the advertisement in the phonebook.

“Well, lucky for us it is, so…this-this place is just far enough outside of Hawkins. As long as we steer clear of the main roads, we oughta be able to avoid cops and, uh, angry hicks,” Eddie explained.

“If we’re trying to avoid angry hicks, maybe we shouldn’t go to some store called the War Zone,” Erica spoke up.

“Normally, I’d agree with you but we need the weapons so I think it’s worth the risk,” Nancy replied. She sounded tired and you couldn’t help but feel the same. You wished you could just be young adults who had to worry about normal things like figuring out what you wanted to be, what you wanted to do with your lives. Not trying to determine if a calculated risk was going to get you killed.

“Is it worth the time though? It’ll take all day to bike there and back,” Dustin pointed out.

“Who said anything about bikes?” Eddie chimed in.

“You got some car we don’t know about?” Steve questioned.

“It’s not exactly a car, Steve. And it’s not exactly mine, but uh, it’ll do,” Eddie smiled and you knew you were all in for a hectic, chaotic time. “Hey, Red, uh you got a ski mask or a bandanna or something like that?”

And that’s how you all ended up sneaking around the trailer park following Eddie Munson in a Michael Myers mask…which somehow wasn’t the weirdest thing that this group has had to do for the sake of the greater good.

Eddie rounded the corner around an RV and slid open a side window before hoisting himself through it. Steve followed suit and helped pull you through the window, steadying you as you dropped very ungracefully into the vehicle.

Eddie began pulling at wires under the dash and Steve watched him work with a concerned confusion plastered across his face. “Where’d you learn how to do this?”

“Well, while the other dads were teaching their kids how to fish or play ball, my old man was teaching me how to hot-wire. Now, I swore to myself that I wouldn’t wind up like he did, but now I’m wanted for murder, and soon, grand theft auto. So yeah, I’m really living up to that Munson name.”

“Eddie, I’m not sure I love the idea of you driving,” you spoke cautiously as you leaned into Steve’s back to join the conversation happening at the driver’s seat.

“Oh, I’m just starting this sucker. Harrington’s got her, don’t ya big boy?” And just like that, the RV revved to life, and the owners of said RV began banging on the sides of it, screaming at you to get out. You felt bad, like really bad, but you kept reminding yourself it was for the greater good as Eddie and Steve swiftly switched places.

“It’s just a car,” Steve whispered to himself, trying to psych himself up before yelling back to the other passengers of the now stolen vehicle “everybody, hang on to something!”

“Drive, Steve! Drive!” Dustin’s voice rang out and he didn’t have to tell Steve twice, as he put his still bare foot on the gas, taking off out of the trailer park.

“Shit they look pissed,” Lucas pointed out, watching as the RV’s owners tried and failed to run after their vehicle.

“Well, it’s not every day that you lose your house and your car in one fell swoop,” you cringed at how awful your actions were, hoping that you’d somehow be able to return the RV undamaged but that was unlikely given your present predicament.

“Hold on, hold on, hold on!” Steve shouted, making a sharp turn. You nearly would’ve fallen out of your seat if it weren’t for Eddie’s quick reflexes as he grabbed at the collar of your shirt, pulling you back towards him.

What had you gotten yourselves into?

***

Everyone was asleep in the back, catching up from the eventful night that you had the day prior. Naturally, you couldn’t sleep, so you found yourself sitting in the passenger seat next to Steve, and you couldn’t help but feel wistful for the way it all felt so normal. You had fallen into a comfortable silence, until Steve broke it as he spoke up.

“You know, it’s silly, but I…I’ve actually…I always had this dream that I’d have this really big family. I’m talking, like, uh, a full brood of Harringtons, like five, six kids.”

“Six?!” You asked incredulously.

“Yeah, six of ‘em. Three girls, three boys…and-and every summer, I figured all of us Harringtons, we would pack into something like this and just…see the country. You know, the Rockies, Grand Canyon, maybe Yellowstone. And then end up in some beachside town in California, spend a week parked in the sand…learn how to surf or something.”

Your heart was beating a million miles a minute. You and Steve rarely ever talked about the future because everything always felt so precarious. The most you’d ever talked about was wanting to simply have one together. The fact that he’d been day dreaming about a life was almost too much for you to handle. You thought about Vecna and your visions and your headaches and your eyes began welling up with tears at the very real possibility that it would be someone else giving Steve the life that he wanted, the life he deserved.

“That sounds nice,” you whispered through your watery eyes.

“Baby,” Steve noticed your tears, reaching over and putting a hand on your thigh to comfort you. “What’s wrong?” There was a lump in your throat and you couldn’t quite get the words out, so Steve jumped in, trying to make you laugh. “I mean, I guess the six kids part is a bit much—a bit tear inspiring—so maybe I should’ve held that detail back, you know? I’ll work up to it once we already have a few little Harringtons of our own, what do you say?”

If it were under any other circumstances, his effort to make you smile would’ve paid off but instead, it just made you cry harder, considering this future that you were damn near sure you wouldn’t have.

Watching you react like that was sending Steve into a spiral. He wished he could go back and just keep his damn mouth shut because maybe you didn’t want that. Maybe you didn’t want a future like that with him. Hell, maybe you didn’t even want a future with him at all.

He knew that you loved him, but he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe you were falling out of love. You had been through so much together, but this shit was so much fucking worse than what you’d been through before. Maybe you were realizing that he wasn’t the one for you…that he wasn’t enough. There’s nothing like a series of near death experiences to make someone rethink all their life choices.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, quickly getting up and moving to the back of the RV, needing some space. Robin had been awake and overheard the conversation the two of you had just had, her heart breaking for her best friends. She’d be damned if she let this blip break up her favorite couple, so just like that she gave Eddie a swift kick to the shins.

“Ow! Robin! What the fuck!” He exclaimed, the abrupt wake up something he was not happy about.

“We’re putting out fires okay? I need you to go talk to Steve and keep him from going fucking crazy.” This was a divide and conquer situation.

Eddie noticed the way you sat in the back corner, sniffling and staring out the window. “Trouble in paradise?” He asked.

“Yeah, but under these conditions, I’d hesitate to call it paradise.”

With that, Eddie made his way up to the front of the RV.

“What do you want, Munson?” Steve groaned, gripping the steering wheel tighter as he tried to keep his anger in check.

“Nice to talk to you too, Harrington,” Eddie rolled his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I’m just really not in the mood to fucking chat right now, okay?”

“You need to chill out man.”

Steve stared incredulously at the long haired freak in front of him. “Did you seriously just fucking say that to me? Munson, I’d like you to tell me how the fuck you think I should just chill out. It’s not like I’m barefoot, driving a fucking stolen RV to a store called fucking War Zone, and the world is fucking ending, not to mention my girlfriend is basically fucking dying…oh, and if we end up getting out of this shit storm okay, I think she’s going to dump me anyway…so forgive me for not being fucking chill.”

The words dripped like poison from his lips, but he kept his voice to a seething whisper so as not to upset you further. He could hear your soft sobs from the back of the RV and his heart ached as he tried to figure out where he went wrong.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Harrington?”

“What do you mean?” Steve answered Eddie’s question with a question.

“Like yeah, yeah, yeah, all that shit you listed is, well, pretty fucking shit…but there is no way in hell y/n is going to dump your ass.”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Steve rolled his eyes, aggressively flipping on his turn signal as he pulled up to another side street.

“I don’t think you know what the hell you’re talking about, man. I don’t think I’ve ever seen two people as in love as the two of you dipshits are, and considering you’ve faced the end of the fucking world more times than I can count, I’d say that your relationship outlook is pretty fucking solid.”

Steve sighed, debating whether or not he should open up to Munson. He didn’t really like Eddie all that much before all this shit, but he was learning that the metal head wasn’t as terrible as he thought. Besides, half of his hatred was no doubt misplaced jealousy over the fact that you had been tutoring him and spending extra time with him. Despite this, Steve decided to take the calculated risk of being vulnerable.

“We were sitting up here talking…and-and I just brought up how, in the future, it would be nice to have some kids of our own and pack up into an RV like this and travel the country…and…ugh, and then she just started crying! And, yeah I did say that I want like six kids—“

“Six kids?!”

“Yeah, it’s a lot, but that’s besides the point. And! And I made a joke about it, because yeah it is a fucking lot, but that just made her cry harder and I feel like the only explanation is that maybe she doesn’t fucking want that with me, and she just isn’t ready to rip off the band aid yet. I mean, I know we love each other, but maybe she’s realizing she doesn’t love me like that, you know?”

Eddie sat there quietly for a second considering what his newfound friend just said. I mean, Steve’s thought process did make sense, but Eddie thought back to the conversation you had with him; the one where you told him that you were pretty confident Steve was the one. Eddie swore himself to secrecy, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t put his two cents in.

“Look, there’s no way she doesn’t want to spend the rest of her life with you dude. She is head over fucking heels for you, trust me,” Eddie started out, “Besides, you guys haven’t been officially dating for that long anyway…I don’t see something happening in that short amount of time that would have caused her to change her mind like that. No way, man.”

“I don’t know,” Steve mumbled, and Eddie could tell he was holding something back.

“Spill it, Harrington,” when Steve looked at him hesitantly, Eddie rolled his eyes. “Dude, I’m a wanted man and the whole fucking town hates me. Who am I going to fucking tell? Besides, bro code and all that patriarchal shit.”

Steve looked over his shoulder. You were still locked in a pretty serious and hushed conversation with Robin, so he felt a bit better about the fact that you wouldn’t overhear what he had to say.

“If you tell anyone, I’ll fucking kill you myself, understand?” Eddie nodded, and Steve continued, “okay…we…um, you know how we broke into the high school to find all those files and shit?”

“Yeah…?” Eddie replied, not quite sure where this was going.

“Well, that night, y/n came back to my place to spend the night because she had her first vision and we needed to talk a lot out, and….well, and we had sex.” Steve whispered the last part so quietly it was barely audible.

Eddie stared at him like he was a fucking idiot. “Okay….? And….? You two have been dating for like eight fucking months. You had sex. I don’t get what the big deal is.”

Steve rolled his eyes, trying not to flush with embarrassment about giving Eddie Munson of all people the intimate details of his love life. “We had sex for the first time, okay? So yeah, it’s a pretty big fucking deal,” Steve defended himself.

Eddie looked absolutely dumbfounded. “So you’re saying that you, King Steve, have been dating a girl for eight months and you haven’t fucked her until like a few days ago? I’m sorry man, but I have to call bullshit on that.”

“I swear, dude. Y/n hasn’t really dated anyone before so it was her first time, first time, so we were waiting until she was ready.”

“That had to fucking kill you, man. I’m surprised you waited that long at all,” Eddie tried to hold back a chuckle.

“Hey! Knock it the fuck off, Munson!”

“Was it good?”

“I’ll pull over right now and beat the shit out of you. I’m not fucking joking.”

“Well I am, so you can chill the fuck out,” Eddie laughed. “I still don’t see how this has anything to do with her potentially wanting to dump you.”

“Well, it’s just a change, you know? Like what if she didn’t like it and—and…I don’t know, the spark is gone?”

“Dude, respectfully, that’s surely not the case. There’s probably a shit ton of women in Hawkins who would be lining up just to sleep with you, so there’s no fucking chance that she’s going to break up with you because you’re bad in bed.”

“I did not say that I was worried I was bad in bed; don’t put fucking words in my mouth.”

“What a fragile little ego you’ve got,” Eddie teased, “no dude, but seriously, please don’t worry about it. There’s no way that your little lady isn’t hopelessly in love with you.” Eddie gave Steve a pat on the shoulder before moving back to the back end of the RV.

Meanwhile, Robin was trying desperately to calm you down. Sobs wracked your tired frame as you wiped at the tears that were flowing down your face.

“Y/n, please. What’s wrong?” Robin asked, pulling your hands away from your face so that she could get a good look at you. You took several deep breaths, hiccuping through a few more sobs until you calmed down enough to speak.

“I-it-it’s Steve,” was all you could manage to say before another communication breakdown had you unintelligibly sobbing again.

Robin shook her head, “honey, you have to tell me what’s wrong; I can’t help you otherwise, and I want to help. Please.”

“He’s just so perfect,” you whispered, your eyebrows furrowed together with such a hopelessness that Robin nearly wanted to cry with you. She wasn’t exactly sure what you meant, so she just stayed silent for you to continue. “Like, he was talking about how he wants this future together with all of these kids and-and…and Robin, I want that. I want it so fucking bad, but I don’t think we’re both going to make it to the other side of this.”

Robin’s heart stopped in her chest. “What do you mean, y/n?”

The sympathetic look you shot Robin was enough to kill her. “Robin.”

“No, y/n. What do you mean?”

“I don’t think I’m making it out of this one alive, okay?” You sighed, another tear falling down your cheek that Robin was quick to wipe away. “And…and it’s just hard to hear him talk about a future that he’s going to have to have with someone else…because I want him to have that—I really do, Robin—but I just know it’s not going to be with me.”

“Y/n, you have to let us try. I’m not going to fucking let that happen,” Robin argued as a tear fell down her face, “you and Steve can have all the gross, sticky children you want because our plan is going to work, it has to work, okay?”

You took a deep breath and wiped at your eyes one more time. You didn’t feel confident, but despite that, for your friend, you agreed, the words coming out in a whisper.

“Okay.”

***

As soon as you stepped foot into War Zone, you were immediately overwhelmed. “So much for avoiding angry hicks,” Robin voiced what you all were thinking. The store was packed full of people, and you figured that everyone from Hawkins was probably gearing up for what they thought was the inevitable with an alleged murderer on the loose.

“Let’s be…fast,” Nancy spoke up, and you all split off in different directions to gather the supplies you needed to face Vecna. Not quite ready to face Steve after your breakdown in the van, you sped off to a corner of the store away from him, ducking and weaving between other customers before he could argue.

As he watched you disappear in the crowd, his heart jumped to his throat. He didn’t like the idea of you being out of his sight right now; none of you had any way of knowing what was going to happen, and he liked to keep you close so that he could be there if and when shit hit the fan. The fact that you were still upset was also killing him. You guys usually communicated so well, but this whole Vecna situation was really throwing you off your game. How long would it be before you guys couldn’t communicate at all? How long until you were shells of the people who fell in love, destroyed by grief and pain and tragedy?

Robin pulled him out of his thoughts before he could spiral too much. “How many of these do you think we need?” She asked, holding up a canister of kerosene.

He threw on a jacket he had found in the store, throwing another canister in the cart. “Five or six,” he answered, though in all honesty, who could really be sure?

Steve placed a few more canisters in the cart before noticing that Robin was suddenly very sidetracked. His heart rate picked up for a second, thinking it was due to some sort of threat, but he calmed down a little when he realized that she had spotted Vickie.

“What are you gonna do, Rob? Just stand here and gawk at her?” He asked as a smirk broke out across his features.

“Shut up,” she was quick to respond. Steve’s heart soared as she took a step towards Vickie, but it quickly shattered to the floor when a guy came up behind Vickie, wrapping his arms around her frame. His heart was breaking for his friend as she turned around, running the other way, embarrassed by the hope she’d allowed to grow in her mind.

“Robin! Robin!” Steve called after her, but it was no use.

You stood at the gun counter, rifle in hand, heart pounding as you inspected the firearm. “How much is this?” You asked the man at the counter.

“$120.99, but I’ll throw in twenty rounds of buckshot for ya,” he replied. You were glad you weren’t the only one that was going to have to cover the cost for all of this shit, because you certainly didn’t have the funds for end-of-the-world-apocalypse preparation supplies. You nodded softly at the clerk and he turned to help another customer when you heard a voice that made your stomach drop ring out next to you.

“Hey, can I see this real pretty .375, please?” Jason asked, his hands pressed against the countertop, letterman jacket looking pristine compared to your dirty and disheveled clothes from the hell you’d been through.

“Here you go son,” The clerk handed the gun over the counter and Jason thanked him. You tried to turn away so as not to be recognized, your heart pounding in your ear.

“Y/n,” Jason spoke up, gesturing at you with the pistol, “wouldn’t expect to find you here.”

“Yeah, well, it’s just…scary times,” you used the easy excuse at your disposal. “I’m…really sorry about Chrissy,” you added, and you meant it with every fiber of your being.

“Want my advice?” He took a step closer to you. “Shotguns are not good for much of anything past killing small birds. I mean, they got power, sure, but not much range.” You swallowed back your fear as he took another step closer to you. “And that’s just gonna force you into close-range combat, then someone can just grab that barrel like this and redirect it.“

You jumped as his hand wrapped around the barrel of the shotgun you were holding, inertia carrying you as he jerked the gun towards him.

“You look nervous,” Jason pointed out, his steely gaze not wavering from your eyes.

“Like I said, scary times,” you refused to look away either, meeting his intensity with a burning hatred of your own.

“You…you know Munson,” Jason continued, leaning even closer towards you, if that was even possible. “Physics. You tutor him, right?”

“I did,” you tried to emphasize the past tense nature of that sentiment, hoping that giving him as little as possible would make him let it go.

“He…he here with you, by chance?” You could see the craziness in Jason’s eyes as he said it, and your heart began beating faster. This was a man that had snapped, and you were afraid of what he would do to you and your friends if he knew that you were helping hide Eddie.

“No,” you shook your head, still not breaking eye contact.

“I’m only asking because, after all, he’s in charge of Hellfire, you know?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you feigned ignorance.

“What about his friends?” Jason pushed the question, tightening his grip on the shotgun and taking another small step towards you. “They here with you?”

“Would you let go?” You asked in a hushed tone, your expression settling into something fierce and serious. Jason didn’t respond, his eyes still locked onto yours, his stern expression matching your own, so you raised your voice a bit. “Let. Go.”

“What’s going on over here?” A familiar voice rang out behind you and you felt relief flood your veins as you felt a hand at the small of your back. You wanted to roll your eyes as Jason eased up a bit, his grip loosening on the barrel of the gun in your hand. The countless ways a man will not hesitate to disrespect and intimidate a woman astounded you compared to the complete change in demeanor as soon as his actions could be construed as disrespectful of another man. Bro code was a bunch of certified bullshit.

Steve knew Jason better than you did. After all, they played basketball together just the year prior, with Steve being the team captain. Steve looked at Jason quizzically, his eyes practically daring the letterman jacket wearing jock to cause trouble.

“Steve,” Jason’s crazy, out of control expression melting into a polite smile, “nothing’s going on. Just two friends having a chat. Right, y/n?”

Jason’s stare made you feel nauseous, so you moved your head in a small and stiff nod, being agreeable to avoid any further confrontation. Steve could obviously sense the tension and felt his blood boiling at Jason’s clear attempt to intimidate you.

“It’s just, you’re standing awfully close to my girlfriend, and she’s very clearly uncomfortable,” Steve refused to back down.

“My apologies. Store’s quite crowded, is all,” Jason explained, his expression swiftly changing, menace dripping behind his mundane words.

“Certainly still enough room to back the fuck off,” Steve moved between you and Jason. You quickly waved down the clerk to ring you out for your purchase.

“Woah there, Harrington. Being a little defensive, don’t you think?” Jason’s eyes narrowed. “If I was crazy, I’d even go as far as to say you’re hiding something.”

“I don’t have any clue what the fuck you’re talking about,” Steve took a step towards Jason before continuing. “She’s my girlfriend, so I’m just trying to make sure she’s alright.”

“And Chrissy was mine,” Jason shot back, and you watched the way his fists clenched and unclenched. He looked like he was about ready to lose it and you weren’t really too confident in his ability to self regulate right now with everything that was going on.

“Is everything okay between you boys?” The clerk asked after handing you your bag. At this, Steve and Jason took a step away from each other.

“Everything is fine, sir. Thank you for all your help,” Steve spoke up, putting a hand on the small of your back again and moving you in front of him as he began guiding you through the store towards the front.

Before you could get far, Jason spoke up from behind the two of you, putting a hand on Steve’s shoulder to make him stop. “If you know anything, I recommend you tell us because we’ll find out one way or another.”

“Is that a threat?” You questioned, finally finding your voice. You were surprised by the way that it didn’t waver.

“Oh, no” Jason chuckled, “it’s a fucking promise.”

With that, Jason backed away, moving to the other end of War Zone to meet up with the rest of his entourage, and Steve quickly moved the two of you towards the front of the store. Robin, Nancy, Max, and Erica had clearly realized the presence of Jason’s group and were finishing up checking out the rest of your supplies. Nancy finished paying and the five of you swiftly exited the store as fast as you could, all piling back into the RV parked outside.

“Your old friends are here,” Erica announced to Lucas as she boarded the bus.

“Shit!” Lucas exclaimed.

“Let’s go! Let’s go!” Dustin shouted, fear lacing his tone at the thought of what Jason would do if he got his hands on any of them.

“I’m going! I’m going! Sit down!” Steve shouted as he rushed to the driver’s seat, starting the vehicle up and peeling out of the parking lot.

No one talked for a while, everyone still reeling from the close encounter you had just had in the War Zone. Once you were a considerable distance away, Steve spoke up.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine,” you let out a bit of a chuckle, trying to play it off like you weren’t still a little freaked out from the way Jason was acting.

“Babe, come on,” Steve glanced over at you, “I know you.”

You sighed. “He just seems so unhinged right now. I felt like he was going to try and fucking kill me right in that store. And I’m just…I’m worried about Dustin and Lucas and Eddie. If Jason was that willing to be that aggressive towards me, who knows what he’ll fucking do to them if he gets ahold of them!”

“He’s hot headed, that’s for sure,” Steve agreed with you, “but we’re going to figure it all out, and it’ll be fine.”

You weren’t so sure that you agreed with him, but you didn’t say anything as he continued driving. He took several backroads until the occasional buildings disappeared, the scenery shifting to rolling hills and open fields. He pulled off into an open field that was shielded enough from the road by the tree line, and you all exited the RV, ready to prep your various weapons.

You sat on a basket, sawing at the barrel of the shotgun you had just purchased as Max and Nancy watched.

“Is this legal?” Max asked.

“Actually, I’m pretty sure it’s a felony,” you replied, continuing to saw without a care in the world of the legal repercussions of your actions. “But it guarantees one thing. I won’t miss.”

Once you were finished, you handed the shotgun to Max, standing up and wiping your hands on your pants, before smiling at her and moving to sit with Steve and Robin.

“I mean, it just doesn’t make sense,” Steve spoke up, holding a funnel as Robin poured kerosene into an empty bottle.

“What doesn’t make sense?” Robin asked.

“That was Dan Shelter. He graduated like two years ago,” Steve went on, and you realized you were clearly missing something.

“So?”

“So, he’s in college, which means he was visiting on spring break. Fast Times was returned, like, I don’t know, a week ago? Right? Unless she’s got some horndog brother we don’t know about which is possible. Or she’s just really into Judge Reinhold?” You finally caught on and realized that this was all about Vickie. Putting two and two together, you figured she must have a boyfriend, putting a total wrench into your plans to land Robin a kick ass girlfriend.

“Steve!” Robin cut him off. “I don’t care, and I don’t understand why you do either with everything that’s going on. Honestly, this feels like a prefect time for that little pull of the rug because in the face of the world ending, the stakes of my love life feel spectacularly low.”

“You deserve to be happy though, Robin,” you spoke up, weighing in on the conversation.

“Not everything has a happy ending,” she reminded the two of you, and your mind flashed back to Steve’s dream of six kids packed into an RV together. You figured now was the right time to speak your mind…after all the world was ending.

“I have this terrible, gnawing feeling that…it might not work out for us this time,” you explained, leaving out the part where you were pretty much 100% confident that it was specifically going to be you that was caught in the crossfire.

“You think we shouldn’t be doing this?” Steve asked, concern flooding his brown eyes.

“I think we’re mad fools, the lot of us…but if we don’t stop him, who will?” You looked out at all of your friends, each of them with their makeshift, modified weapons, and you willed yourself not to cry. “We have to try, right?”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, his expression stoic. He picked up one of the empty bottles that had yet to be filled with kerosene. “To killing Vecna?” He proposed a toast.

“Slash Henry,” Robin added.

“Slash One,” you finished as each of you picked up bottles of your own to clink together. Your free hand searched for Steve’s as you wrapped your pinky around his, silently making an additional promise to him too.

A promise that you were going to fight like hell to live for the future Steve was dreaming of. A promise to believe that maybe—just maybe—everything was going to be okay.

His pinky tightened around yours, and for a moment, that was all that mattered in the world.

***

a/n: I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! If you commented or reblogged or even sent an ask about what you thought of it, it would honestly make my whole day! I really enjoy reading your comments and it 1000% motivates me to write more (I also have a list of some ideas for once this story is finished, so stay tuned for that!!!)

taglist:

@season4steve @sassyheroneckgiant @tangledinthegreatxscape @kahhori @palachannie @keeryverse @usaguisenpaisblog @emilieluckwood @sabrinadelreyy @mochminnie @xprloki @kitdjarin1 @kissmxcheek @daemonskitty @bethsvrse @aheadfullofsteverogers @quinnsadilla @chervbs @sheisjoeschateau @goosy-goose @frtfvthg @criesinlies @cycat4077 @kachelleee @killerqueenfan @newyorkangelbaby @spaghetittied @anxfl @huffledor-able541 @mikariell95 @nothergoaway @angie2274

142 notes · View notes

jamdoughnutmagician · 2 months

Text

A Slice Of Life (Waitress AU) Part 2

Doctor!Steve Harrington x Waitress!Reader

<- Previous part Next part ->

Warnings: Steve is a sweet guy in this, and Billy continues to be a horrible husband. Brief mentions/descriptions of sex.

Word Count:2,158

*dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist // Steve Harrington Masterlist

Quickly you rush into work, the time on your watch already ticking into your shift. You’re running late.

You push through the diner doors, and sure enough Hopper is there to greet you, with a stern expression set on his features. His moustache sitting over his lips pressed into a thin line.

“You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago.”

“Cut me some slack, Hop, the bus was late.” you huff as you try your best to straighten yourself out.

“Why don’t that husband of yours buy you a car or something?”

“Because he doesn't want me going anywhere.” you scoff, pushing past him to the back room to get changed into your waitressing uniform.

As you step out of the room, Nancy is there to catch your eye.

“How did you get on at the doctors this morning?”

“Well, I’m definitely pregnant, if that’s what you’re asking.” you laugh to yourself. “It was a new doctor. A man. He’s taken over since Doctor Bloom retired.”

“Ooh a man? Was he cute?” she joked, nudging you with her elbow.

Nancy watched as the heat bloomed on your face, your eyes not meeting hers.

“Oh, okay so he was definitely cute.” she gathers from your embarrassed expression. “Is he single?”

“Nance!” you gently slap at her arm, you’d been friends with Nancy for too long for her not to know when you liked someone. “Okay, he was kinda cute, I guess. Didn’t see any ring on his finger either.”

“Hey, could you do me a huge favour?”

“Sure, what’s up Nance?”

“Can you serve Joyce today? She’s in her usual seat by the window. I don’t know if I have the energy to face her this early in the morning.”

“Sounds like someone's got a guilty conscience? You poke at your friend.

“Just because you know I’m sleeping with her son, does not give you the right to hold it over me. She smiles, narrowing her eyes at you. “Joyce. Table 7. Please.” she begs.

“Alright, alright. I got it. No need to get your panties in a bunch.”

“Darling, you’re an absolute angel.” she says with a pat on your shoulder as she whizzes off to tend to the other guests sitting at their tables.

Coffee pot in hand you make your way over to Joyce’s table where she’s sat by herself, reading over a glossy magazine.

“Good morning, Joyce.” you smile brightly, filling up her coffee mug. “What can I get for you today?”

“This is my pie diner, you know?” she starts her usual morning ramble. “Jim likes to think he runs things here, but this is my place. I own it. It’s my name on the deeds, and it’s my name above the door.”

“I know Joyce,” you nod as you listen to her, suddenly feeling un-easy sick feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. You suppress it as best you can for now, to take her order. “So, what’ll it be today huh?”

There it was again, that nauseous feeling creeping up your throat, the kind that leaves a bad taste in your mouth. That couldn’t be morning sickness already, could it?

“I’ll have a slice of the “Midnight Mulberry” pie please, and a glass of water with ice when you get the chance, Hon.”

Midnight Mulberry. A dark chocolate pie shell filled with sharp black mulberries and blackberries, the sharpness offset by the dollop of fresh cream served on top of the chocolate lattice work on the top of the pie.

“Alright, got it, one slice of Midnight Mulberry coming right up.” you say jotting down her order on your notepad quickly before turning on your heels to rush off to the bathroom.

“Wait a moment, before you skedaddle off, let me read you my horoscope.” she says, her eyes looking back to the magazine in her hands.

“Libra, smooth sailing today as Mars enters your inner circle, whatever the hell that means. The ones you love will listen carefully to you today, just make sure you’re careful with what you say.” she finishes as she puts her magazine down “do you want to hear your horoscope, darling?”

“You know what, I’m a Libra too, the same as you. If you’ll excuse me I feel like I’m going to be sick.” your words rush out as you hot-foot it to the bathroom stalls in the back of the diner.

After you had emptied the contents of your stomach into the toilet bowl, and washed your mouth out with water from the tap, you head back out onto the diner floor to collect Joyce’s order and bring it to her table.

“Here you go, one slice of Midnight Mulberry and a glass of water.” you smile, placing her pie down in front of her.

“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” she asks all-too-knowingly.

You shush her, not wanting anyone else around to hear her.

“I remember when I was pregnant with Jonathan, I could barely keep any food down for the first few months, nearly every smell made me sick, it was awful.” she sips from her glass of her water. “When are you due?”

“Shh, Joyce, I can’t have Hopper hearing you or I’ll lose my job. I’m trying to save enough money so I can get away from my husband, but you’ve got to promise me that you won’t say anything about this baby, okay?”

“What baby?” she smiles at you with a wink.

“That’s what I like to hear.”

Sitting next to Robin in her small, run-down car as she gives you a lift home, because apparently Billy had been too busy at work to pick you up, although the background chatter from the bar he would frequent after work told you otherwise. However, any thoughts of your husband are elsewhere, as you mindlessly watch as the hazy sunset breezes past your window.

“Billy has no idea that you're pregnant, does he?” Robin says softly, breaking the comfortable silence.

“No, he doesn’t. And I'm never going to tell him. I’m just going to run away.”

“How much money have you got saved up?”

“Not much, about $1,000, and I can save up a bit more before the big pie bake-off.”

“And how much is the prize money?” she asks, her fingers gently tapping a rhythm on the steering wheel.

“$25,000.” you reply with a grin curving across your lips.

“Wow. So what pie were you thinking of baking?”

“I’m not sure yet. I was thinking of baking one of my more unusual pies. Y’know, the kind where you don’t think the ingredients are going to work together, but then they do.”

“You know what you could do with that prize money though,” Robin says, her eyes briefly flicking over to you.

“What’s that Rob?”

“You could open up your own pie shop.”

“C’mon Rob, that’s crazy talk.” you scoff with a playful laugh at your friend’s suggestion.

“No, I’m serious, you totally could. "The Pie Palace’’ I can just see the sign in my mind!” she laughs, her freckled cheeks round and rosy.

The morning comes and you find yourself sitting on the bench a block away from your house, waiting for the bus to take you to work. Closing your eyes, you allow yourself to think about the life growing inside of you, and what your life might look like with a baby in the picture.

Baby’s screaming its head off in the middle of the night pie.

New York style cheesecake base, brandy-brushed filled with pecans warmly spiced with cinnamon and nutmeg.

“Hello.” comes a voice from beside you. “Mind if I sit?”

It’s your Doctor, Doctor Harrington.

“Sure, go ahead.” you gesture to the empty space on the bench beside you.

He sits down in comfortable silence next to you.

“So what’s a doctor doing catching the bus, huh? Thought you’d have some big fancy car or something”

He chuckles, a gentle rumbling laugh that illuminates his face with a bright smile.

“Oh no, I do have a big fancy car,” he jokes with that charming smile. “..it’s just having a few problems at the moment. Friend of mine who runs an auto shop downtown is looking after it for me.”

“So, do you live far from the Doctor’s Practice?” you ask, the flow of conversation between you

“Uh, no, not too far. I live over on Ashmore Road.”

“Oh, it’s nice over there.”

“Yeah it’s nice. Lotta trees, which is good, uh, y’know, if you like trees. I mean who doesn’t like trees?” he stumbles over his words with an adorably nervous cadence.

“Trees are good.” you smile back, nodding to him.

“So, you’re a waitress then?” he asks, as he gestures at your blue and white waitress's dress.

“I am. I work in a little diner just off I70, Byer’s Pie Diner.”

“I’ve never been there. Is it..is it good?”

“Yes, it’s very good. We make all the pies there fresh. Breakfast pies, dinner pies, twenty-seven different varieties of pie, and a new house special that I create every day.” you smile. “I was actually just inventing a new one in my head when you walked up.”

“So, that peach and raspberry pie that you brought me, you made it?” He asks, sitting up a bit straighter and turning his body towards you.

“Indeed I did. Peaches In Paradise Pie.”

“That was quite possibly the best pie that I have ever tasted in my life.” he says, his bright smile somehow feeling even more brighter than before. “I mean, that pie was like, life-changingly good, that’s how good it was. You could win contests with stuff like that, I’m serious.”

You delight in his praises, smiling to yourself at the kind words of this man.

“Well thank you very much.”

There’s a beat of silence that falls between you both before Steve speaks again.

“Y’know, when I was a kid, I used to go to this diner all the time after school, I had this insane crush on this waitress that worked there, her name was Margaret but everyone called her Peggy. She’d always wear her little uniform, and she was just so damn adorable, ” he admits shyly. “Of course I was just a dumb kid and didn’t realise that she would never see me in the same way that I saw her, but I don’t know, when I saw you sitting here, you just reminded me of her.”

“Wow, that is quite the thing to say.”

“Sorry, I guess in a round-about way I was just trying to pay you a compliment.” he blushes.

“No, it was a nice thing to hear, thank you. No-one ever really notices me in that way.”

“Well, I suppose someone must’ve noticed you in that way, or you wouldn’t be in the condition you’re in.” he says, his head vaguely nodding towards your stomach.

“Ah, yes, you mean my husband.” you nod, you’re brought back to reality, suddenly all too aware that you’re a married woman flirting with a handsome man. If Billy only knew what you were doing, his hand would be stinging your skin in an instant.

The bus rolls up to the bus stop.

“Here’s my bus. It was nice talking to you, Doctor Harrington.”

“If there’s ever anything you need, anything at all, don’t hesitate to call, and please, call me Steve.” he smiles as he waves you off as you get on the bus.

“Please, Honey, you know I can make you feel real good.” Billy pleads as he mouths at your neck, trailing sloppy kisses into the crook of your neck that only served to make your skin crawl. “It’s been at least a month since I last felt you, and you know a man like me has needs.”

“Billy please, I don’t feel even the littlest bit sexy right now.”

“Honey, you have never been more sexy to me.” his raspy voice gravelled out. “I mean, call me crazy, but your tits are looking a lot bigger than before. Not that I’m complainin’ about that, of course.” he chuckles, his wandering hands grazing over your chest, feeling up the swell of your breast.

You fight against the shudder that wants to run down your spine.

“You’re probably just imagining things Billy.”

“Honey, please, you’re killing me here, I gotta be with you.”

You lay back in the bed, totally out of it as Billy holds himself above you, chasing his own high, sloppily rolling his hips into you whilst he huffs out groaning moans, before flopping down in bed next to you.

“That was so good, Honey.” he groaned once before turning his back to you and falling asleep without a single thought about your pleasure, but that was your husband. Uncaring and selfish.

Lying back, your eyes cast up to the ceiling, you think about how different your life might have been if you’d never met Billy Hargrove.

@penguinsandpotterheads @paybacksawitch @mrsjellymunson @seatnights @ali-r3n @potatobeanpies

#Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader #Steve Harrington x female reader #Steve Harrington x reader series #Steve Harrington fluff #Steve Harrington fanfic

57 notes · View notes

honey-flustered · 1 year

Text

Scoops Ahoy Ken! - Steve Edition Imagine/Headcannon

Inspired by my post which is blowing up because everyone loves babygirl Steve 😫❤️

Ken Doll come to Life!Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Warnings: oral (f & m recieving)(implied), nsfw below cut, fluff

So I’m thinking in the scenario where you randomly decide you’d like to buy a doll because you didn’t have a childhood where you got to play with dolls or any toys but as an adult, now on your own, you get to live out your dreams.

So you purchased this limited edition ken doll called “Scoops Ahoy Steve” because you thought he looked so pretty.

One day, you have a dream that he comes to life. Then, some luck of god and the next morning he’s life-sized and alive, sitting in your living room and waiting for you. You’d teach him about life and he’d be such a cute little himbo.

🍦 🍦 🍦 🍦 🍦🍦 🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦

Fluffy Headcanons

I think he’s the type to be very possessive of you because he still has memories of himself as a doll and remembers how well you’ve taken care of him so he’s madly in love with you

He’d try cooking for you but he’s not very good at it—because how the frick do you work a stove without burning everything down?

He knows how to fix a mean ice cream sundae, though 🍨

Scoops Ahoy Steve’s lore is that he’s a part-time babysitter so he’s great with kids and he’d like to imagine that someday you and him could have kids, however that works 🤭

Scoops Ahoy Steve’s personality is very whimsical because he’s always wanting to know about the world. Think of him like Giselle from Enchanted. He’s always so friendly with everyone he meets and loves putting smiles on everyone’s faces.

Whenever you’d curse too much, he’d lovingly call you a “sailor mouth”

Scoops Ahoy Steve makes such a great boyfriend because he loves to be attentive to you like a true Ken doll. He’s very supportive of everything you do and always wants to make you feel special

He loves wearing his sailor suit from time to time even though he has plenty of options of clothes to choose from since you’ve taken him shopping. He especially loves the way you look at him when he’s in it.

He’s very stylish though with his Ken doll background and sometimes will coordinate outfits for the two of you

He never has a bad photo or bad hair day. Ever even if you’ve tried catching him off guard the guy’s a model. Meanwhile, he has tons of photos of you in his phone ranging from cute to down right embarrassing but he loves looking at them whenever you’re not around

He gets a job as a manager to an ice cream place and he’s so happy because it’s what he knows and that the real world’s not such a scary place after all

He eventually adjusts better to our world and figures out he’s good at other things like playing sports and making children laugh. So he dreams of some day going to college to work towards being a teacher or coach 👨‍🏫

Again this man loves you. Like he LOVES YOU and will go all out to prove his love and devotion to you. I’m talking extravagant parties, anniversaries, just any event where he can make it all about you.

🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦

NSFW Headcanons

Scoops Ahoy Steve would find your little ‘toy’ and he’d be so curious but jealous about it like, “Do you play with it as much as you did with me?” And it just be such an innocent question but he wouldn’t exactly understand the implications.

In the world he comes from, sex is nonexistent because everything is meant to be innocent. But he knows there’s more to just being boyfriend and girlfriend because he always gets the sudden urge to hold you down and kiss you, rubbing himself all over you

So when he finally does some research on exactly what that means, he’ll do everything he can to study the ways he can pleasure you

And pleasure you he does! The first time he performs oral for you was such an unsuspecting day because you didn’t see him as the type to be interested in sex. But that day he cooked you a meal he learned from a youtube tutorial, gave you some nice wine to sip on, and, of course, he wears thee suit. Then, once he feels like you’re relaxed enough he’ll start kissing all over your body.

You’d be so hot all over but feel like it’s wrong but he lips just feels so soft, wet against your skin after each kiss. You’d watch him kiss down your body, pulling off down your skirt and underwear and you’d know where this was going.

“You don’t have to do that, Steve. I’d love you even if we never—”

“But I need to,” He’d protest, eyes blown from a feeling of list he’s never experienced before. “I need to taste you.”

When the man eats, he’s a man starved. His studying paid off for sure because you think he’s mastered the art of cunnilingus. Every gasp and whine you make would egg him on and he’d do the most to get you to be as vocal as possible.

He wouldn’t mind when you’d curse all that much knowing how good you must feel. In fact, he’d even test some of those words on his lips as he moans into your core.

“Fuck, you taste so good, love. So creamy and sweet.” He’d groan against your core, thinking of all the various things he plans to do with you now that he’s had a taste. He’ll possibly involve some ice cream play in his next tryst with you.

Loves when you pull his hair and grind against his face because he knows he’s doing a good job

But he doesn’t understand the concept of overstimulation and tears of pleasure so when you weeping and forcing his head away 5 orgasms later, he thinks he did something wrong until you reassure that it’s so good that it becomes painful

He’s still confused asking you to show him so you ask if you could return the favor and you blow the hell out of him and his mind

Aftercare involves him just cuddling you and telling you how lucky he is to have you, hands all over your body to remind you that he loves your body as is even when you don’t always feel like beautiful.

We stan fictional men here! Scoops Ahoy Steve as white boy of the month pls 😘❤️😍

255 notes · View notes

retrodreamgirl · 2 years

Text

seasons of becoming: fall | steve harrington x fem!reader

spring | summer | fall | winter

summary: fall is the way the leaves slowly begin to color into pretty warm tones, floating from branches to carry you into the cozy season. it's the way the wind seems to carry secrets in the way it weaves between the trees and coaxes you into warm sweaters and knit scarves. it's a season for carving pumpkins and bobbing for apples, homemade costumes and bags filled with candy, holidays with family and friends, frightful movies to send a chill up your spine. for you it's girls nights filled with pizza, pitiful villains, curiosity, and sudden apologies, last minute bonfires and the return of an age old friend, and an unprecedented moment of weakness. [5.8k]

warnings: fluff, angst, smut (it's not really graphic but i do describe it ig? it's nothing obscene i just make it clear that they were being smutty i'll just say that), fem!reader, slow burn, friends to lovers, mutual pining, confused reader, not edited or proofed sorry bout it

full disclosure...this might be trash 🤍

⤜♡→

Fall is like a wreckoning.

Perhaps the cruelest season in the way it slowly eats you alive.

You’re so easily taken by the festivity, crisp air and the twisted turns of corn mazes, carving pumpkins with shared seeds sprinkling the sticky newspaper beneath. It’s a time of warmth cradled in a mug of cocoa or the apple cider you love best of all, freshly harvested from the mills stretching the flats of Indiana. The frightening faces of jack-o-lanterns and bedsheet ghosts haunting the streets with abandon.

You’re perpetually covered in pastry, your hands sanded with flour to keep up with the demand for rolls flavored like pumpkin and the pies that line the display case. The smell of fresh baked gold mixing with the dying movement of autumn that filters with the open and close of the door meant to tease the white stillness waiting in winter.

Your favorite thing about this fall is the soft connection.

“So, are you and Steve dating?” Max scoffs, covering the quirk of her lips freshly painted with a tube of gloss she’s scavenged from your vanity. It’s light and sweet, it suits her well with the sassy updo she’s fashioning this evening.

You can’t remember the last time you had someone over for fun, your last sleepover was with Nancy Wheeler and Barb Holland before you realized all too quickly just how easy it is to grow out of such an artificial liking of someone.

How delightfully juvenile that you should be having a much better time with teenage girls just toeing into their sophomore year.

“No, we are not dating.”

“We wouldn’t care if you were.” You glance over your shoulder, El’s nails half painted where your attention was previously focused. It seems a silly thing to be so affected when she says something like that, but it makes you wonder if ‘we’ means the group has discussed the idea of you two dating like it’s some conspiracy they’d have to get on board with.

You’re not sure if you like it at all.

You decided after that night laying out in the open, teaching Steve about the stars, that you like being his friend. It doesn’t erase the lines of attraction entirely, it’s still shavings coating the page, wiped away but somehow an abundance muddling your next few lines of thought when you look too closely.

But there’s something about the two that just don’t merge so nicely in your head. Like rivers steadily ebbing and flowing, they come together at times but flow in opposite directions on most occasions.

“Well that is awfully kind of you, but I promise we’re just friends. What about you guys? Max, how are things going with Lucas?”

“Surprisingly, the best they’ve ever been. I think it might have something to do with you and I being friends.” She laughs, bashful about the whole thing. Seeing them lately it’s hard to imagine a reason Lucas would need to visit you so much.

You thought it was a bit strange at first to be jealous of them, but you can’t find it in you not to be when they’re so sweet with each other. It gives you hope that everyone has that person who will make them tick the perfect amount.

“Oh please, he is so smitten with you and obviously you are too.”

“Smitten.” El affirms, but still tilts her head like she’s trying to recall what it means. “Yeah, you like each other a lot.”

“And what about you, Miss. Hopper?” El reddens, laying her cheek on her perched knee like you’ve asked her something horrible. She looks everywhere but at you and you can tell Max is about to spill something extra juicy. El is too sweet for that and you don’t want her to think you’re teasing her.

Just then you wonder what’s taking Robin so long, though you can’t decide if she would back you up or gang up on you with the two younger girls. By your watch, a dinky little thing with flowers decorating the lavender band, she should’ve gotten off work an hour ago.

“I’m starving, where’s Robin with the pizza?”

“She’s always late now. I swear Steve holds her hostage to talk about their problems for at least twenty minutes before they even leave the parking lot.” Max advises, lifting her head where she’s poking through your dresser for something to try on.

“Yeah, they complain a lot.” El posits, blowing at her nails. She offers up her fresh hand, paying close attention like she’s trying to absorb every movement you make with the small brush.

You almost jump at a hollow knock on your front door. You thank goodness that you don’t, unable to think of the look on El’s face should you accidentally coat her skin in the dark red color. You relinquish the bottle to Max hastily finding the front door in an unattractive half jog.

“God, I thought you’d never get here-” You pause momentarily, met with Steve standing tall over Robin’s shoulder, two pizzas stacked in his palms, beaming. Robin looks to be harboring a vague annoyance, apologetic to a fault when you find her miffed gaze. “Sorry, Harrington, no boys allowed.”

“But I brought pizza.” He scoots past Robin who rolls her eyes but trails him into the apartment.

“You loaned me two bucks!” She groans, her tone begging him to turn back. You track them to the kitchen and Steve’s already snagged a slice of pizza from one of the steaming boxes and you’re so starving you almost leave him be in favor of savoring the sticky cheese of your own slice.

“Steve, this is an invitation only event and you don’t have one.” You deadpan, attempting to usurp him by grabbing at the sleeve of his polo. He doesn’t budge an inch and by now you can hear shuffling from the other room, Max and El quickly filling the kitchen arch.

Max is holding El gently at the wrist, probably having forced her from the joyous occasion of having her nails done when they heard the commotion. While El’s eyes are focused on the room like she’s trying to decipher why she should care, Max is immediately annoyed and you flinch when her brows crease.

“Hello ladies.” Steve nods, shoving the rest of his pizza into his mouth, obscene the way he unhinges his jaw to fit the entirety of it.

While usually your mind would be filled with something euphoric like how nice he looks under the lights of your kitchen or the rise it gives you when his eyes lazily scan the room, you can’t conjure up a single thought about his presence that sparks joy.

You think if you were feeling just a little more unhinged you might want to strangle him.

“Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be on babysitting duty or something?” Max charges, eyes rolling to the back of her skull.

When you first met it wasn’t hard to believe that Max must absolutely despise Steve’s entire being. Always throwing jabs and silent looks with that deathly edge no one seems to know how to navigate. But the more you look and experience them, you realize Steve’s taken up residence as something only the two of them could ever fully comprehend.

You’d heard stories about her family, she filled you in on the nitty gritty one night when it was just the two of you, and you think Steve must’ve taken over somewhere without either of them realizing it. Now you can’t see them as anything more than an overbearing older brother who knows the right way to get under his sister’s skin enough to make her just a little cruel.

“You know, I’ve actually got the night off.” Steve sobers only a bit when Max growls under her breath. “Oh what, are you guys gonna do girl talk? I can girl talk!”

“We don’t want your girl talk.” El tuts, gravitating toward the pizza. She looks at her nails, then at you with a look that’s shy, unsure whether the paint is dry enough to gorge herself. You can tell she feels a little dull for asking, on the verge of forgetting it.

You don’t torment her, the idea of waiting for her to pluck the courage to ask is far too mean. You reach for her hands, testing the paint delicately enough that if they were still sensitive you wouldn’t mess up your handiwork. You glance up and she’s staring at you in awe, like she’s impressed she didn’t have to say anything.

El has a way of making you feel a little too proud of yourself for basic human decency.

“You’re good, babe, just be a little careful.” She holds you a little longer, a silent thank you on behalf of the stillness that settles in the room. “Steve, why don’t you go and hang out with Dustin? I’m sure he’d be happy to have you.”

“But I wanna hang out with Robin.”

“Take her and go.” Max says mildly, taking half a step forward so her shoulder is shielding you from the towering figure like he’ll pounce any second.

“What?! I don’t wanna hang out with Steve!” So he’s a plague on all of you this evening then. You feel a little bad, the way he’s looking between the four of you, obviously offended that you’re blatantly kicking him to the curb.

It’s nothing personal, but you’re constantly hanging out as a group and you could tell by Max’s rapidly flaring temper and El’s tendency to sidle near the edges lately that they needed some time away.

You hadn’t intended his presence to be a constant side effect. He’s not likened to a diseased thing most times, but it can be irksome the way he comes and goes as he pleases.

“Steve, we just need a night away. It’s really nothing personal, I promise.” He considers you, shifting on his tennis shoes, hand slipping into his jeans. You can see the way his shoulders dip, suddenly too grumpy to put up much of a fight.

A formidable foe he is not, his defeat proving himself harmless.

“Fine. Walk me out?” You think he must be talking to Robin, but in your heroic defeat of the less than harrowing villain set out to ruin your evening, the rest of your fearful foursome has wholly occupied themselves with pizza.

“Come on-” You shepherd him to the door that seems further somehow, Steve easily falling into stride beside you. “You know, a night to yourself might be just what you need.”

It’s hard to imagine him all alone. The time you’ve been allowed to be close to him has mostly been filled with the kids running you in circles. You’ve never bothered to ask if he minds, but maybe you should because the sour twist of his lips is not what you’re expecting when you playfully carve his shoulder.

“Trust me, I have plenty of nights to myself.” There’s nothing to say, so you don’t, giving him space enough to think it over on his own. You can feel it when he looks over at you, weighing his options. “Are you glad Eddie’s back?”

You’ve done it, finally forced Steve to resort to someone he only seems to tolerate. You stumble a little, his hand reaches out to steady you on your feet, saving you from faceplanting right into the peeling wallpaper on your floor’s hallway. You can hear the news buzzing low on the other side of your neighbor’s door and you don’t think it could possibly be anything good.

All of the things you don’t want to hear are on the news, it’s something you only force yourself to stomach because so many bad things seem to be happening in Hawkins. Maybe that’s what’s got Steve so confused.

You feel stupid because you realize it’s been nearly thirty seconds and you haven’t answered his question. He probably thinks you’re ignoring him, a childish thing to do but you’re certainly not above it.

You settle your stomach and the anxious ignorance that’s suddenly bubbling in your gut before you call the elevator, leaning against the wall, legs crossed at the ankle.

“Oh yeah, my fridge has never been emptier.” It’s true, Eddie’s stomach always bigger than he’s willing to budget for so he’s prone to taking advantage of your hospitality. You don’t mind it because he’s good company, but it grosses you out some of the things he can make out of food you actually enjoy eating. “I haven’t seen him much though, already preparing to get on the road again.”

“Can I ask something a little personal?”

“I can’t stop you. The correct question is, will I answer?” You nudge him, throwing your arms toward the open elevator. You hadn’t intended on walking him the entirety of the building, three floors down and to his car in the parking lot, but you’re curious.

“Are you and Eddie a thing? Or were you a thing?” So is he, it seems.

“That’s what you wanna ask me?”

“You don’t have to answer, I just well-” He’s chasing every syllable far too quickly to actually form something coherent. You can see the heat rising to his cheeks, probably regretting the question entirely.

“Look, Eddie and I are friends. That’s really all you need to know.”

“Fair enough…can I try again?”

“I can’t stop you.” He doesn’t ask anything immediately, you’re already stepping onto the night soaked asphalt when he lightly grabs your wrist. He glances at you beneath his lashes, stepping to the side where his car is parked. You think he might kiss you the way his emotions are carved so heavily under his eyelids.

“Well, I guess this is me.” Steve stops near the driver’s side door, hand warming the handle. You think there must be another reason he’s so eager to spend the evening with a bunch of girls, half of them more than willing to pin him down and make him suffer because of it. The way he lingers almost gets you.

Instead you laugh, his choice of words reminiscent of the end of an uncertain first date.

You imagine what it would be like if you’re the one who suddenly yields forward, bracing your hands on the apples of his cheeks. If you push up on your toes just enough to ghost over his lips, see if he wants it as badly as you think you could. The awkward pause when you pull away, waiting for him to take you in or say goodnight leaving you to stand absolutely mortified on his doorstep.

You realize you've been standing here too long, you think Steve is hopeful you’ll let him stay. He hasn’t quite leveled his keys in his palm, still half in his pocket where he stands yanking the locked door.

What he says is more surprising.

“Was I…a dick to you in school?” He tilts his chin, a rapid movement like he’s not sure that’s the right word but he can’t think of one that’s less harsh to say out loud.

He doesn’t hold the same false confidence he had just five minutes ago, shifting every so often on his feet. He tussles with the band of his handsome watch. It looks like his fingers are fighting to break free of the fancy leather, like it’s a bad habit he can’t quite kick.

“Are you soul searching? At this point it hardly matters, right?” Your attempt to lighten his suddenly dreary mood doesn’t work. You almost ask if this is why he doesn’t wanna be alone, but it doesn’t have to be a bad thing, coming to terms with everything.

It seems rather pervasive to be caught in that moment of self reflection, turning your nose at the person you were and trying to decide how much of them is left.

“No, I’m serious. I was just thinking about when we really met a few months ago. I actually didn’t recognize you at first because…well I mean-”

“I was a little nerdier in high school? Trust me, I’m still exactly the same. I think you’re just different now so you don’t notice. That and I’m not always running around in club t-shirts.”

It was an old habit, your horrible sense of style. One you developed when you realized your parents didn’t have the money to keep up with the latest trends, you thought no one could make fun of you as much for advertising extracurriculars.

Not true, if anyone were to ask.

“You’re not saying no…”

“Honestly? I think you were a little mean to everyone you didn’t wanna sleep with and I’m confident enough in myself to say that I wasn’t one of those girls.” You shrug, long since forgetting those days entirely.

The ones where you’d dream of a boy like Steve Harrington skipping stones off your window and climbing up on the nearest tree, clinging to the branches for dear life while he begged you to let him in.

“I guess it doesn’t mean anything if I apologize?” He asks sardonically.

“Steve, what’s really going on here?”

“Nothing…I should let you get back to your girls' night.”

It’s not nothing, it’s clearly not, but you don’t have the tools to coax it out of him just now. Not standing in the parking lot, lowering your voice a half step when you spot one of your nosier neighbors slowly taking the groceries from her car.

“Are you sure? Because I can—”

“Yeah, just…sorry if I was ever a jerk. I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you later, Steve.”

~*~

“Thanks for helping me shop for the bonfire.” Lucas drops an abundance of graham crackers into the cart to match the stockpile of marshmallows and chocolate, you sneak a pack of rods for fear the kids think it’s actually okay to shove the marshmallows over splintered wood.

The whole thing is horribly last minute.

You thought they’d been planning this for at least a couple of weeks since that’s when they thought to invite you. But when you opened your door mid-afternoon to Lucas with a nervous ache in his muscles you couldn’t well say no to helping him set everything up.

It’s obvious you’re the most forgiving of their friends with a license and you obviously have a soft spot for Lucas.

It’s a small punishment, but you warned him you wouldn’t be dolling yourself up for a quick trip to the grocery store. He grimaced when he saw the animated characters on your pajama bottoms and the fuzzy socks stuffed into a pair of house slippers.

He must be just as forgiving as you because he didn’t try very hard to get you to change, though he could be banking on you being the embarrassed one because he’s been walking a decent stretch ahead of you since you walked in.

“No problem! I love bonfires, they’re so cozy and the smell of burning wood in the crisp autumn can’t be beat.” You sigh, ignoring it entirely when Lucas looks at you differently. It’s just the two of you at the moment, Dustin came with but he suspiciously split from you as soon as you walked in. “What else is on your list?”

It was a stupid question really.

Why should you believe that a bunch of know-it-all teenagers thought to write a list when they could be doing anything else? Especially when they couldn’t even be bothered to think of it further than fire and friends until now. As if to prove your point, Lucas glances off to the side, patting his pockets like there should be a slip of paper somewhere that he’s missing.

“Ok, let me try that again.” You clear your throat, tracing the length of your teeth like you’re thinking it over. You don’t want him to feel so bad for coming unprepared. “Do we want to bring more food, hot cocoa, apple cider? Do we need extra chairs or blankets?”

“Oh, food! We definitely need more food and maybe an extra flashlight and some batteries.” He seems suddenly confident in his lack of a list, rubbing his hands together, stoking mischief. You sidle between aisles, paying close attention to the things Lucas picks up, nothing concerning catching your eye just yet. When he sees you scrutinizing he shrugs. “Can’t have a bonfire without scary stories.”

“True…”

“This is pretty unbelievable.”

One of your favorite things about Eddie is his ability to suddenly pick up a conversation like you’d already been having it. If you didn’t know any better you’d think it’s his penchant to dip into his supply, smoke usually drifting hazy just above your parallel heads on his bedroom floor. But you do know better so you know he just has a thought and speaks it immediately no matter what.

“I’m gone for what, three months? And Harrington steals my girl.”

You’d be heated like crazy if he said this a few years ago, both of you tangled beneath your bedsheets and far too giggly to have done something so serious. Now you shove at his cheek, forcing it to one side. He takes it in kind, snapping back with the force of a friend when he finds your fingers with the pointed edges of his canines.

“He hasn’t stolen anything, he’s just a friend. Much like you might I add.”

It was never anything serious with Eddie, but there was something about revelry that drew you to him in high school. Watching him antagonize jocks by day and lounge in the darkened corners of wild parties by night, waiting for the desperation of a momentary high to peak someone’s interest beneath the clouds of smoke.

It was a pleasant surprise when you realized he’s just a big dork, more than willing to have a little fun, easily navigating the strings.

Master of puppets indeed.

You came away with a camaraderie far more preferable than a tryst in the sheets and the moment it was one of your mugs lining the walls of his trailer it was unspoken that you both quit while you’re ahead.

I can’t sleep with you with that mug on the wall, it’s blasphemous.

“You’re a horrible babysitter by the way.” He’s got Dustin by his collar, an obscene amount of sparklers in his arms. Your lip twitches at the corner, but you don’t dare give away your amusement. “Better leave it to Steve-o.”

“Dustin, we don’t need all those.” You wonder how he made it back to you with that many. Surely someone in the store had seen him with a flashing sign over his head begging to be apprehended.

“Yes we do! Ultimate bonfire!” He tosses them into the cart, already halfway to his killer explanation. At least you’re sure that’s what he thinks and the look on Lucas’s face isn’t the most promising because he’s counting the boxes like he doesn’t think there are enough. “Come on, we’ll be in Will’s backyard so it’s totally safe and we could make a sick obstacle course with these!”

“Dude, yes!” The two of them high five, you look at Eddie whose amusement is palpable.

Still, he lets Dustin go, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, the scent of smoke an immediate comfort where your cheek is squished into his t-shirt. “Guys, how about two packs of sparklers, no obstacle course, and I’ll throw in a bonus campaign before I jet off again.”

If it’s wrong to play on their emotions like this you aren’t sure you care too much at the moment.

“A full campaign.”

“Deal.”

Things are much easier with four heads, the three boys coming up with a steadily unattainable list of things and you molding their requests into something remotely possible. You’re relieved when Eddie offers to take the boys and their sizable haul in his van.

“Hey, could you check on Steve?” Dustin asks you suddenly, peeling the flaps on one of the boxes of sparklers open. You’re trying not to make a comment because he’s Eddie’s problem now. “I’ve been calling him all day and he hasn’t answered.”

“Maybe he doesn’t like you anymore.” Eddie suggests, lighting one of the sticks with his lighter to trace something derogatory with the smoke.

“Maybe he’s just busy. Did he have work?”

“Or a date.” Lucas makes a valid point, Steve’s availability rather slim as of late.

It was odd to you because he wasn’t so fast and loose this summer. It was nice to see him so alone, not always looking for the next pair of legs suitable to shove himself between.

He even made excuses to hang out with you at the bakery and pretended he didn’t have better things to do when you got especially active deliveries of soil or fresh ingredients so he could help you stock your inventory because you were always too stubborn to ask for it.

“Yeah, he’s not your actual babysitter. He has a life.”

You don’t tell him that you haven’t heard from Steve in a while either. Not since he interrupted your girls' night and apologized for things that never really mattered to you. Maybe you should’ve checked on him sooner but there’s still a small sliver of you that isn’t sure the two of you are as close as you think.

It’s the part of you that curls in on itself everytime he smiles in your direction or makes a comment in jest.

It’s created a character separate from the two that already seem in a constant battle about your feelings for the boy, so suddenly thrust back into your life. Not to say he was ever a part of it to begin with.

You’re just so far removed from your immediate adolescence that it feels like years since you worried about someone like Steve Harrington when in reality he was only ever a few blocks away and so much different than you remember in every way.

“I’m. telling. You.” Dustin enunciates every word, the way he does when he thinks you’re too stupid to get what he’s saying. “He’s not fine. I think I know him a lot better than you guys do.”

“Then why don’t you check on him.”

“Because he needs a gentler touch.”

~*~

“Steve?” You knock for about the tenth time. You’d think he wasn’t home if his car wasn’t sitting so proudly in the driveway. Still you think it might be better if you just try him later, maybe a call instead of standing beneath the clouds, overcast with darkness and the daunting threat of an autumn storm.

So much for a bonfire.

The sky is already electric, flashes of lightning in the distance putting you in a bit of a tizzy. You aren’t scared of storms, but you’d rather not be caught standing in the middle of one because everyone is so sure there’s something wrong with Steve and somehow you’re the one sent to check on him.

You think he could’ve gotten a taste of the bug, the relaxation of having some time to himself.

He probably didn’t know what to do with it in high school, a decent rager always the first thing on his mind when his parents went out of town. You only attended a few at Eddie’s insistence, but it was obvious peace and quiet was the last thing you’d be finding.

And by the time he graduated he’d already inherited an entire family who made it their business to be under his skin as often as possible.

“Steve, come on!” You’re a little vexed. It feels petulant for him to make you stand out here if he hears you knocking. He could have the courtesy to tell you to go away or even mime a gesture through the window canvasing the door.

You ignore the portion of your brain reminding you that no one’s forced you to come here. Certainly not to be standing here this long.

You wish you’d been a little more thoughtful in your attire. It was cute when you first thought of it, a black dress with tights and worn boots mimicking the famed Wednesday Addams. You think you might have her entire demeanor down by the time Steve opens the door.

The wind is picking up and your toes curl in your boots.

You pound against the wooden barrier with your fist another time, this one much harder than those previous because it’s started sprinkling and for some reason you’re still standing here worried about Steve.

Why are you standing here worried about Steve?

You’re turning on your heel when you hear a commotion inside, the front door swinging swiftly on its hinges.

“What the hell are you doing?” You nearly forget it yourself, Steve looking at you like you’re insane with a towel slung low on his hips, another hanging limply in his hand where he’d been drying his hair.

Instead of actually answering him you think it’s fair to ask an obvious question. You’ve been knocking for so long.

“Why are you naked?”

“I just got out of the shower and you were down here banging on the door like a cop! Sorry I didn’t take the time to make myself decent.” He shifts, glancing cautiously at the steadily worsening downpour you’re standing beneath. You still haven’t quite sobered, eyes hardly avoiding the bare expanse of Steve’s chest, his shoulders looking far broader without the padding of a crisp polo or his denim jacket. “Get in here.”

You glance at your car, a wasted effort if you’re honest, the stubborn part of you, the one that’s been knocking on his door for the past thirty minutes already decided. You sidle past him, careful not to brush too closely for fear of a realization you’re not prepared for.

Steve locks you both in, turning toward you with his free hand resting in the sculpted slope of his hip. It’s gross how handsome he is like that, you think you might be getting a little sick.

“What are you doing here?” He sounds more confused than anything, probably because you’ve never come over unannounced. Actually you haven’t been to Steve’s house since those summer nights long since dead with the wilted trees whose leaves still linger in previously polished yards.

“I came to check on you, Dustin said you haven’t been answering his calls.” His head tilts, he looks like a puppy that doesn’t immediately recognize they’ve been asked to sit or they heard a funny noise. It would be cute if you weren’t realizing a slew of things right this instant. Your jaw slackens. “Dustin never called you.”

“Not unless calling me suddenly means not calling me.”

“God…I’m sorry, I’ll go.” These kids are brutal, and the worst part is you don’t know who was even in on it. They make it impossible to tell the way they’re all so different, near scolding you for thinking about Steve one moment then telling you they don’t care either way the other.

Brutal.

“No.” Steve subtly blocks the door with his frame, water still coating his chest where it drips from the ends of his hair. It’s an exercise of willpower not to place your hand right there on his chest and chase the droplets all the way down. Just friends. “I mean, it’s getting pretty ugly out there. You should stick around until it dies down.”

You wonder how long it’d take him to get sick if you gently ushered him out of the house and onto his front porch. It’s something you’re seriously considering. You were just starting to get used to the idea of being friends, resisting the natural attraction you have to him, and now he’s standing in front of you with no regard at all for the shred of self control you’ve been wielding so expertly.

“Steve, I should go. Make sure the kids are okay.”

“They’re at Joyce’s, they’ll be fine.” He ushers you a little further, but you don’t care how awful it's getting outside or that you’ve been waiting to come inside for so long, you need to leave because you’re positive his voice is lower than usual. A rasp like he’d just woken up or it’s been a while since he used it for anything.

“You haven’t been around much.” You sidle backward, swiping an irritating strand of hair from your forehead to focus on anything that’s not Steve being naked.

“I’ve been around, just not around you.”

“At least you’re honest. Did I do something? Is this about–”

“No! No you didn’t do anything, well you did a lot of things, but you didn’t do anything wrong.” He’s tripping over himself again, you miss his careful steps toward you. Even still your body is taut, unable to move any further away if you wanted to.

His scent is fresh from the shower and you almost think he’s done this on purpose, like he knew you’d be waiting outside when he opened the door. He was always a little sneaky, but in a way that only ever came off as accidental and charming.

Just friends.

“Well…what did I do that wasn’t wrong?”

“You made me want you.”

A stupid thing that broke you so easily in hind sight.

Never bothering to ask what he meant by it.

You barely remember trailing him to his bedroom, your breath trapped and labored in your chest. The only thing you recall is the way your limbs are thrumming with something hot and heavy. It’s easy when he closes the door and teases you with his lips, large hands capturing your cheeks and stroking the uncertainty away, making sure you want him as badly as he wants you.

You do.

The moment he began gently removing your clothes, chasing your skin with the ghost of his lips, felt like an out of body sort of thing. Like you could see and feel everything he was doing but it wasn’t totally in your control. You even helped him when it got a little awkward and your dress stuck at your hips and you both laughed.

How dreadful when you realized you fit together so perfectly. It’s like you weren’t even trying but everything just fell into place. The haunting reminiscence of your name on his lips like litany, the way your hands drug lightly from the width of his shoulders down the length of his back.

You held him in with your hips, like he’d dream of being anywhere else.

It feels like you would let him spend an eternity filling you completely. In that moment you would have, in that moment you would’ve done a lot of things.

It’s the end bit that got you.

The moment he rolled off, a kiss left lingering in the crook of your neck, something silly rolling off his tongue before he buried his face in his pillow. You listened to him doze off, breath evened out, and you suddenly felt lousier than you have in a while.

Because you’re just friends.

You feel lousy knowing the only thing he’ll wake up to in the morning is empty space and he’ll be completely fine with it.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader series #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic

147 notes · View notes

loveshotzz · 1 year

Text

All I Really Want Is You

older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader - a slow burn series of blurbs and one shots | modern au!

🎶All I really want is you, what would you do? Laying in the rain with you, middle of June🎶

summary: In between summer days, when the sun barely touches the sky, when no one else is awake, you start to fall in love.

this series takes place over the course of one summer and is told in the form of blurbs and one shots of your run in’s with your handsome neighbor.

warnings: 18+ for my blog and smut in later parts of the story. age gap: reader is 30 and steve is 42, drinking, smoking (steve smokes cigars), mentions of death (peep the widower), steve is not a dad in this one. sorry to my jenny crew.

SERIES PLAYLIST // Steve & Bandit sketch 🧡

Welcome to the neighborhood

Fancy meeting you here

Mr. fix it

Good morning & good night

Whiskey & cigars

I don’t know you, but I want to

Bad idea

Red, white, & boom

Ask me what I’m thinking about

Baby, I’m yours

Heaven knows you better (Epilogue)

bonus blurbs:

First camping trip with Steve at Starved Rock 18+

How Steve treats you on your birthday 18+

Trying a new position 18+

Fire pit cuddling

Steve and Orange Colored Sky Eddie FT call by @carolmunson

First time in Steve’s office 18+

We’re supposed to be eating breakfast 18+

Thunderstorm cuddling with Steve & Bandit

Steve asking you to move in 18+

Giving Steve a massage for his birthday 18+

#my writing #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington slow burn #steve harrington series #AIRWIY masterlist

2K notes · View notes

andvys · 3 days

Text

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter eighteen ⭐︎ Tell me 'bout the first time you saw me

Warnings: 18+ minors don't interact! smut smut smut, fluff, mentions of bullying, mentions of the upside down, unprotected sex, mentions of unrequited feelings

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Steve takes another step towards you, one that might change everything, hopefully for the better.

Word count: 9.7k+

Author's note: always a pleasure working with @hellfire--cult hehe. we're getting closer to the best scenes roe ♡

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter

♡

A shrill noise, distant ringing sounds through the house. You’re in and out of sleep as you try to register where the sound is coming from, you open your eyes to the bright lights coming from the TV in your living room, a groan falls from your lips and you squint your eyes when you feel the pain in your neck from the uncomfortable position you had fallen asleep in. You rub your tired eyes and turn your head to look at your best friend who is sleeping deeply on the other side of the couch, snoring loudly and completely unfazed by the flashing lights from the horror movie playing on your TV screen or the loud ringing of the telephone.

The obnoxious sound coming from the kitchen continues, forcing you to get up. You nearly trip over Eddie’s sneakers as you rush out of the living room and into the hallway, your mind is still sleeping, your eyes still tired, the ringing hurts your ears and you grab the receiver as soon as it’s in reach.

“Hello?” You grumble, leaning your head against the wall and closing your eyes again as you stand in the dark kitchen.

“Hey Blondie.”

The sweet sound of his voice fills your heart with life and your stomach with butterflies, your eyes shoot open and you instantly straighten your back.

“Steve?” Your voice only above a whisper as you hold the receiver a little tighter than before.

“Did I wake you, honey?” He murmurs, sending shivers down your spine with the raspiness in his voice. “I’m sorry if I did, I-I just wanted to hear your voice… I uh, I just dropped Robin off, we talked for a while.”

Your breath hitches in your throat as your eyes widen.

He wanted to hear your voice.

He called just to hear your voice.

He makes your heart swell in your chest just with a few simple words, words that hold so much meaning to you.

But then you remember what happened only a few hours back.

And just like that the swelling and the warmth in your heart fleets away and anxiousness fills it instead.

What did they talk about?

Robin didn’t seem quite fond of you when you left his car earlier, the tone in her voice and the glare that she directed at you were proof of that.

What if she talked some sense into him and told him to stop seeing you, that you are both going nowhere with this?

“Oh…” You mutter, not knowing what else to say.

You play with the cord, wrapping it around your finger as you start bouncing your knee, waiting for his next words.

“Are you okay?” You add in concern.

“Yeah, I’m okay. She uh, she won’t say anything so… we can still… if you want?” He asks and clears his throat to hide the shakiness in his voice but you caught it. “Because I wanna keep doing it.”

If you want?

You’d keep going with this for the rest of your life if he wanted it, no matter how badly it hurts to be nothing but a little secret, not having him at all, would hurt so much more.

Relief follows quickly, despite the anxiety that still lingers but something tells you that Robin won’t be as accepting of it as Eddie is.

“I want to keep seeing you too, Steve.”

You hear his breathing, the way it stutters, the way it always does before a smile appears on his face. It makes your own lips curl into a smile as your shoulders relax and you slump against the wall.

“Good,” he whispers and you hope that you aren’t mishearing the happiness in his voice.

“Good,” you repeat after him, unable to fight the smile off your face.

You want to ask how the conversation went, what she asked, what she wanted to know but you don’t want to ruin this moment between you.

You can leave it for another time, you can wait, just like you always do.

“Is Eddie still there?”

“Yeah, he passed out on the couch and I’m afraid he’ll wake up with a stiff neck tomorrow.”

Steve’s chuckle makes your stomach flutter again.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

You nod with a smile on your face, “yeah.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come home with you,” he murmurs after a moment of silence.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, trying not to sigh, trying not to show how sad you are that he isn’t here with you. The nights you spent alone in your bed are long over. “You needed to talk to Robin…”

He is silent, for a long moment he says nothing and only breathes as he stands in his kitchen, the only source of light coming from the small lamp on the counter, he stares into nothing as he contemplates asking if he can come over because he doesn’t want to spend the night without you, he doesn’t want to go to sleep without the warmth of your body atop of his, your soft breathing on his skin and your hands holding onto him as you unknowingly cling to him in your sleep, he doesn’t want to miss it, not even for a single night.

“Steve?”

Your voice sounds like a blessing to his ears now, the emotions that rush through him are no longer confusing him.

“Yes?”

He waits for you to speak but you are hesitating, only your soft breathing sounds through the phone. He hopes that you’ll ask him to come, he hopes that he can wrap his arms around you tonight, after all.

“... Eddie ate your pringles.”

He raises his brows and tilts his head to the side, this is not what he wanted to hear but he can’t help but laugh.

“And your butterscotch ice cream too.”

He leans his head against the wall behind him, a smile of amusement appearing on his face.

“I had to hide your kitkat’s so he wouldn’t eat them too.”

He closes his eyes and listens to your voice, waiting for you to continue. You could talk about anything to him, literally anything – gossip, music, make-up, clothes and shoes, the weather or some random movie he has never seen, he’ll happily listen to you.

“But he found them…” You say with a giggle, “I don’t know where all that food is going! Did you see how many burgers he ate at Hopper’s?”

No, no he really didn’t pay attention to your best friend, he was too busy watching you.

“He might have a hole in his stomach.”

You chuckle, “he might, yeah, or he just gets the worst munchies after he gets high.”

“Yeah, speaking of, we haven’t done that in a while.”

The last time you got high together, you didn’t get the munchies, no, you got something entirely else, something much more satisfying. It started with slow kissing, soft touches and desperate moans, you made out and undressed each other, you marked his skin and he did the same to yours and left them in places only he could see, he sank to his knees and unraveled you with his tongue, he tore out the sweetest sighs and the prettiest moans from you and now that he thinks back to that moment, he can’t help but wonder what exactly he was high on, drugs or you?

“What, getting high? We should do that but we’ll have to buy new snacks first, Eddie ate all your favorite ones and I definitely need to stock up on chips and candy but whenever I get high I just want to eat pizza and pasta and uh… I should probably stop talking about food or else I’ll get hungry again,” you murmur the last part and place a hand on your stomach when you feel it grumbling.

He smiles fondly and an idea pops in his head.

"Pasta, huh?" He mumbles as he takes a look around his kitchen, “you’re staying with me tomorrow night, right?”

“...If you still want me to, yes.”

After his realization, he wouldn’t even mind you staying with him permanently and these thoughts swirl inside his head in full honesty.

“I do want you to,” he nods even though you aren’t there to see, “well, I promised that I’d cook for you, remember?”

Your cheeks heat up at his words and the permanent smile on your face grows bigger.

“Mhm.”

“Let me cook for you tomorrow night, Blondie.”

You bite your lip, unsuccessfully holding back the grin as giddiness rushes through your bones, making you unable to stand still.

“I won’t say no to that, Steve.”

Steve’s cheeks almost hurt from the grin on his lips as he heard the excitement in your voice, his own growing bigger and bigger as he already begins to count down the minutes until you’re back in his arms and here with him, hearing your voice isn’t enough, he needs to see you, to feel you, he needs you by his side.

But for now, this will have to do.

You both talk, not minding the late hour in the slightest as you both stand in your kitchen’s and giggle into your phones, feeling like teenagers all over again, each of you wearing lovesick smiles on your faces and happiness in your eyes, fluttering feelings in your hearts and in your stomachs – reactions and feelings now mutual and no longer one sided.

Your teenage self would stare in awe if she saw you now, the happiest smile would play on her lips, she might even be jumping around.

King Steve would be… surprised but maybe not unpleasantly so, there was more to him than he ever wanted to admit.

Steve knows it now.

When he hears your giggle, that sweet sound that lights up everything inside of him now, he knows.

He never wants to miss your laughter again, he never wants to miss your voice, he never wants to miss you. He doesn’t even want to hang up the phone, not even when you make the promise that you will call him again with the phone upstairs in your room, when your makeup is off and you’re comfortable under your warm covers.

And you, you rush out of the kitchen the moment you hang up the phone, with a fluttering heart and huge smile on your face, you make your way back into the living room, despite knowing you’ll be unsuccessful in waking your best friend and trying to get him into the guest room.

A part of you feels relieved to see him asleep though – you don’t need him to see your blushing face.

He is snoring into one of the pillows, his bangs covering his eyes, he is taking over the entire couch now, his knee angled weirdly as his arm hangs down, fingers grazing the carpet. You chuckle to yourself and step towards him, you lean down and wrap a gentle hand around his wrist, bringing his arm back up so he won’t deal with any soreness in the morning. You reach for a blanket and place it over his body before you turn off the TV.

And as you quickly make your way upstairs, rushing into your bathroom to brush your teeth and take your makeup off, Steve is already in bed, staring at the phone on his nightstand, waiting for your call.

With his arms tucked behind his head, the covers over his body, he feels warmth surrounding him as your smell lingers in his room, on the covers and the sheets, the pillow that is now yours – your side of the bed empty to his dismay, it almost feels weird to lay here without you when only months back, this was all he knew, an empty bed that he had never shared with anyone until you stepped into his life and came to steal his heart.

And he never wants to share it with anyone else again, only you.

The ringing of the phone doesn’t even last for two seconds before he picks it up and speaks your name into the receiver, earning a breathy chuckle from you.

“Missed me?”

He hears the rustling of your sheets and how you try to get comfortable in your bed – oh, how he wishes he was there with you.

“Mhmm thought you went to sleep without me,” he murmurs into the phone as he pulls at the cord of the telephone and turns on his side, sinking his face into your pillow and breathing in your scent.

“Without talking your ear off first? Never.” You joke.

Steve chuckles, shaking his head, “you can talk my ear off anytime, honey. Tell me about your day.”

“We spent half of the day together.”

“Exactly, half.” He says as a yawn escapes him and his eyes grow tired, lashes beginning to flutter. “And half of that day was spent listening to the teens bickering.”

“Okay, yeah you’re right,” you say with a smile on your face and sink deeper into the side that you don’t usually sleep on, you breathe in the cologne that lingers on your pillow and close your eyes as you start talking about anything that comes to mind, the movie you watched with Eddie, the shopping trip you went on with El and Max a few days back, the pretty necklace you saw in the small jewelry shop downtown, the flowers that started growing in your garden, your niece and how much you miss her.

A smile tugs at his lips and he feels calmness in his chest, your voice makes him feel safe, so safe that it lulls him into sleep only minutes later as he lies in bed surrounded by the smell of you and the sweetest sound in his ear.

And you don’t notice at first, continuing to ramble about something completely unimportant before you register the utter silence on the other line.

“Stevie?”

A light snore echoes, making you giggle when you realize that he had fallen asleep.

You hold the receiver tighter in your hand and hold the covers against your chest, closing your eyes and staying on the line, listening to his breathing. You wish you could be with him, lay your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat instead.

“Good night,” you whisper softly, though wishing you could say something else, something more.

Music plays in the background, some Tears for Fears song. The mouthwatering smell of food lingers in the air, making your stomach grumble in anticipation, you sip on your cold white wine as you watch him with a smile on your face and blushing cheeks.

He looks good, he always does but there is something more about him tonight, perhaps it’s the way he looks so sexy in his tight fitted black tank top and his Levi’s, arms sunkissed and his freckles and moles on full display for you, his hair messy yet styled perfectly or maybe it’s that slight rosy color in his cheeks along with the glowing in his eyes, the look of happiness deeply etched into his soft features or maybe it’s the fact that he is cooking for you.

All day you had been so nervous, you paced around the house and busied yourself with cleaning and organizing drawers and your closet, feeling as though you were waiting on a date when you don’t even know what it feels like to go on one. This isn’t a date, no matter how much it felt like it when you started preparing for the night, when you took your sweet time washing your hair and scrubbing your skin soft, shaving and moisturizing every part of your body, putting makeup on your face and curlers into your hair, you painted your nails his favorite color and put on a dress that you wished would make him swoon.

And it did, it does make him swoon, everything about you now does.

You nearly knocked him off his feet when you appeared on his doorstep in this pretty new outfit that shows off your beautiful body and your soft skin that he craves to feel on his constantly. For the first time, Steve didn’t want to rip it off of you and take you, he found himself wishing to take it off slowly, kiss every inch of you softly and feel you in a whole new way, and he told himself he would, that he would take his time with you tonight, though it felt hard to keep his hands to himself when you walked through the door, he wanted nothing more than to pull you against him and kiss you breathless but not yet, he told himself, not yet.

“It smells so good already,” you smile, watching how he stirs the sauce as you breathe in the smell of garlic and cheese.

“Just wait until you taste it,” he winks at you.

“So cocky,” you tease him with a chuckle, taking a sip of your wine before you step closer to him.

“Well, you always love my breakfasts, honey,” he murmurs, putting the spatula down and checking on the pasta before he turns his body to you, looking you up and down with a lick of his lips. He steps closer to you and reaches his hand out to touch your waist, tearing a shaky breath out of you.

You gulp. The smell of his cologne, the touch of his hand nearly cause your knees to buckle – it’s almost funny how your body still reacts like this, after everything you have done together, you still blush, you still swoon, your heart still flutters.

Steve bites his lip as his eyes look at your own, his hand reaches for the glass in your hand and he takes it from you, putting it down on the counter before he grabs your waist with both hands, taking you by surprise when he picks you up with ease, his lips curl into a smirk when a small gasp escapes you and you clasp your hands around his biceps, holding on tightly, even when he places you on the counter, you still hold onto him. He pushes your legs apart a little, letting his hands move from your waist to your thighs as he steps between them.

You suck in a sharp breath, your cheeks are burning under his gaze, your skin heating up beneath his palms as his fingers disappear underneath your dress.

His lashes kiss his skin as he keeps blinking, his hazel eyes gazing into yours so differently than usual and it drives your heart crazy.

But despite how bad you want to let yourself fall into delusions that there might be something other than lust in his eyes at this very moment, you have to remind yourself of what this is and what this isn’t supposed to be.

“Mhm, your breakfasts are very good,” you nod, “but who would’ve thought that Steve Harrington would ever cook dinner for me, a fancy one too.”

Steve chuckles, leaning much much closer and deciding to make your insides tingle even worse than before when he brings his hand up towards your face and tucking the fallen strand of hair behind your ear.

“Who would’ve thought that you would ever sit on my kitchen counter?” He teases, tilting his head to the side as his hand slips down your body and grabs at your hip. “I think your teenage self would gasp and glare at the you now.”

A giggle falls from your lips, you shake your head – he couldn’t be more wrong.

“Yeah, and King Steve would pour the wine over your head if he saw you cooking dinner for his number one enemy.”

Steve chuckles.

“Enemy,” he repeats after you as his eyes crinkle in amusement, “that’s cute.”

Does he know what his words do to you?

Does he know what his touch causes?

Does he know that your heart feels as though it will beat out of your chest after every small act of his?

Because something inside of you, tells you that he is starting to know. His touch is softer, his eyes are too.

“Cute?” You smirk and speak out confidently even though your palms grow sweaty and you suddenly feel shy beneath his gaze. “You think us being mean to each other was cute?”

Steve shakes his head at you and to your disappointment, he steps away and returns back to the stove that he turns off after checking on the pasta. He reaches for a towel and wraps it around the handles of the pot, taking it off the stove, he steps further away from you and towards the sink.

“No, you thinking that we were enemies is cute.”

You press your palms against the counter and tilt your head to the side, your hair that he just tucked behind your ear, falling back in front of your face. You squint your eyes at him as a curious smile appears on your lips. “Were we not?” You ask, wondering what he saw you as during one of your worst times in your life.

“I don’t think you’d be sitting here in this cute little dress if you were,” he smirks, winking at you before he turns away from you to drain the water from the pot, tilting his head back to avoid the steam.

And you are grateful that he isn’t looking at you right now, the heat in your cheeks worsens and you suddenly don’t know what to do with your hands.

You’re no stranger to Steve’s flirting, but it’s usually a little less intimate and under circumstances different from these, usually his flirty comments are there just to get in your pants – at least that’s what you think.

“So… what was I then?” You ask, trying to keep yourself together, trying not to show how nervous his behavior is making you today.

Steve places the pot back on the stove and he throws the towel over his shoulder and glances at you, a striking feeling cursing through him and catching him off guard. The evening sun is still high in the sky, shining through the windows and casting a golden glow over the kitchen and over you, kissing your beautiful skin and your shiny hair, the pretty color in your eyes glowing just like the rosy blush you put on your cheeks, the color matching your lipstick and the little dainty flowers on your dress, your lashes flutter every time you blink, your lips parting as you watch him with a cute look of curiosity in your features, your chest rises up and down softly, he can see the way your breathing stutters the longer you look at him though, it makes his lip twitch into a soft smile.

He feels the beat of his heart, the fluttering and the sensation that has him in a chokehold, you steal his breath away, all the goddamn time, even when you’re not near, just the thought of you, the reminder of your touch and the image of you beneath his body is enough to nearly sink him to his knees.

He stares at you, finding himself unable to look away and snap back.

You look angelic under this golden light and he can’t stop from drinking you in, his eyes taking in every spot on your face, every feature, every edge, every curve – features he once thought were so sharp and shadowed by meanness are actually nothing close to that.

You are soft, you are so gentle and vulnerable, nothing close to the girl he once thought you were.

You showed him a side of you only the closest ones get to see. He should’ve known it was there, even before knowing you.

He should’ve known when you jumped in to help fight against Vecna, when you were so protective over Max and Lucas, when you jumped in after him and saved him from the bats despite being a stranger of the horrors that waited for you on the other side, when you put a comforting hand on Eddie’s when he seemed anxious days and weeks after you were both released from the hospital, when he saw the sadness in your eyes after your fight during that one game night, when he saw how you treated your niece and the fourth of july – the night that changed everything.

You were always right there, right before his eyes, always in reach yet never close enough to actually see.

But now he sees you, the real you that you still try to bury underneath that rough exterior that is slowly crumbling, more and more, little by little.

“Steve?” Your unsure voice calls out to him, pulling him out of his thoughts and back into the kitchen. You are staring at him, a flustered expression deep in your features as you look into his eyes.

He doesn’t shy away from you, from the fact that he’s been caught staring as he lost himself in his thoughts.

“Sorry… What? Got– I got a little lost there a bit.”

You clear your throat, surprised by his words, you straighten your back and blink.

“W-What were we… if we weren’t enemies?”

Steve watches the way your lips move, the way you shift on the counter and pull your hands on your lap where your dress rides up the slightest bit, the way your perfume makes him want to bury his face in your neck and inhale more of it, the way you seem to become prettier and prettier, each passing second.

He has to force himself to look away from you so he can come up with the right words. He cranes his neck and looks up at the ceiling, squinting his eyes and pursing his lips.

“Well…”

What were you to each other?

What were you to him?

Steve truly never saw you as an enemy, he didn’t like you, he couldn’t stand you for reasons he only now begins to see and understand, but you were never once his enemy.

“I wanted to rip your hair out sometimes,” he jokes, making you chuckle, “but… I never wanted to make your life miserable. We weren’t in the same… groups or mindsets… but that never made us enemies.”

A surprised but soft chuckle escapes you as you look up at him, your eyes trailing from his face to his neck where the hickeys that you have left are so visible to you.

You believe him.

As mean as he could be, there was never an evil side to him that wanted people to suffer or feel bad. Though you did feel miserable because of him but it was never Steve’s fault, it was your own, only your heart was to blame. If it didn’t get so attached to him, if it wasn’t his from the moment you laid your cynical eyes on him, his actions and words wouldn’t have hurt in the slightest, you would’ve brushed them off, you would’ve brushed him off, but you couldn’t, you were done for.

But even if you could change it, if you could take your heart back and change your own feelings, you wouldn’t have done it, not even back then when you suffered nothing but sadness and heartache. Maybe you’re a masochist, or maybe just a hopeless romantic with too much hidden hope – hope that you yourself didn’t even want to admit to having, not until recently.

“Hmm,” you hum and hook your finger around his belt, pulling him closer and between your legs, “and what am I to you now?”

Your question catches him off guard once more, the look in your eyes so hopeful, though his own cannot see because the panic in him rises so quickly that it steals his breath away.

What are you to him?

What are you both to each other?

He wishes you were his, he wants you to be his, and after last night’s realization, after seeing what he’s been craving all along, he wants you to be his girl, his only, tonight and for always.

He doesn’t want this to be a short summer, he doesn’t want this to be a temporary relationship – he wants more, he wants a future, a future with you.

But what do you want?

What can he say to you when he only wants one thing?

Steve knows exactly what to say, but he can’t give you the truth now, can he?

He doesn’t want to ruin this, this night or this thing between you – he needs to find out more, he needs to be more sure before he risks something.

“You’re my… friend.”

You try not to flinch at that word, you try to hide the pain in your eyes and the physical reaction from the stab in your heart.

Of course this is what you are to him.

A friend.

“We’re friends,” he whispers.

And you don’t even notice just how forced his own words come out of his mouth, how his eyes shift and the excitement leaves his features for a moment, how he doesn’t seem fond of his own answer.

The bitterness on your tongue spreads and you have to reach for your glass of wine to take a sip and swallow it down.

Tension rises between you but only for a moment because you both refuse to let a few words ruin this night for you.

“Friends,” you nod and you too miss the way he flinches now, the way he scrunches his eyes as though pangs of pain hit him out of nowhere, the way he still places his hands on your thighs, the way a friend definitely shouldn’t.

But you aren’t really friends are you?

Because friends aren’t supposed to be this close and look at each other so longingly, they shouldn’t reach for one another the moment they’re close enough to touch, they shouldn’t meet up in secret to spend nights together and sit at dinner tables with each other, stare at one another with shiny eyes and giddy smiles as their hearts beat in sync through every emotion, they shouldn’t stare at each others lips and wait for the right moment to kiss, their fingers shouldn’t touch while they’re eating their dinner.

And they certainly shouldn’t do this.

Your lips are locked with his, you are kissing each other feverishly, your fingers are lost in his hair, his are digging into your sides as he pushes you towards his bed, not once did he break the kiss on the way up to the second floor, despite the giggles that threatened to escape when you both tripped a few times.

Your heart is beating strongly against your ribcage, your skin feels hotter than ever as moans echo through his room.

Steve’s lips mold against yours so perfectly, his hands hold you so tightly yet so gently and something feels so different today, feelings that are much more intense than usual are on overdrive tonight, something in the way he holds you feels so raw, so real.

When your head hits the pillows and his chest presses against yours as he hovers over you, you remove your hands from his hair and slip them down his chest, reaching for the hem of his shirt, though to your surprise, he grabs your hands, gently, he pins them down but not harshly, the tips of his fingers brushing against your palms and when he breaks the kiss, you look up in confusion, not understanding why he stopped you, why he slowed you down.

“What…?” You mumble.

Steve can’t help but smile at the cute frown on your face, your lips are puffy, your hair is a mess already.

He feels nervousness rushing through his body but more so, he feels anticipation.

“I want to try something new tonight,” he whispers before he presses another kiss to your lips, surprising you with the softness of it. “Is that okay?”

You nod and whisper a small ‘yes’ despite not knowing what he means by that.

“Do you trust me?” He asks as though he doesn’t hold your heart in the palm of his hand, as though you wouldn’t follow him blindly into anything.

You don’t know what this means, how far he will take things tonight, how rough he will get or what the new thing is that he seemingly feels desperate to try but you would say yes to anything when it comes to him.

“I do,” you say only above a whisper.

His lip twitches at that, his eyes lighten up and he wastes no time to connect his lips to yours again, closing his eyes and getting lost in it, in you.

He realizes just how intimate all of this is, this night, these touches, yours and his words, and it’s all he wished for, all that he ever wanted, all that he craved and longed for.

Before you, he saw a faceless woman by his side as he yearned for a deep connection, a kind of love he never experienced before, one that would not only bring him back to life but also consume him in every shape and form. He waited and waited, met new girls and took one after the other out, date after date and no future was still in sight until he had gotten so desperate that he had made peace with the fact that there was only one he had something real with – but even that was false, her love was never real, it was nothing but a delusion to him and he realized that his feelings weren’t real either, at least during his second try, they were only the result of desperation and loneliness.

And he knows, he knows that this might not be real either, that you might not feel the same, that you might never feel the same but he doesn’t really care, especially not in this moment, when your fingers dig into his hair again and your lips move with his so naturally, so softly, like it’s the only thing meant to be.

Your moans, your smell, your taste and your body beneath him makes him feel things he had never felt before. To feel you clinging to him and kissing him with so much passion makes his heart scream in joy, the heart that only beats for you now.

Your tongues meet as his fingers pull the straps of your dress down your arms, grazing your skin with his touch, pulling out whimpers from you that shoot straight through him, making everything feel so much hotter. His palm slips down your chest and your waist before it falls to your hip where your dress had already ridden up to, his hand disappears under it but instead of reaching for your panties to yank them down your legs the way he usually would do, he just lets it rest there for a moment, needing to feel your warm, bare skin underneath his hand.

Your chest rises up and down heavily, it’s pressed against his and he can feel how strongly your heart is beating, matching the pace of his own.

He feels how desperate you are getting as you grab at his hair harder than before, bucking your hips up to meet his and he grants you your wish, grinding his erection against your core, he makes you both moan in pleasure.

And when your lips break apart and you call out his name, Steve nearly crumbles.

He leans down to kiss your neck and you tilt your head to the side, almost immediately, welcoming him to mark your skin up with love bites, and he does, his lips meet your skin, over and over again, kissing softly and sucking gently, he then moves down to your collarbone, leaving no spot unkissed.

You pull your brows together so strongly, overwhelmed by his gentle touches and the feeling of his lips kissing you this way but you can only close your eyes and moan for him, savoring this very moment.

“Steve…” You whimper as you feel the hot sensation flushing through you and burning in your core.

He takes your dress off slowly, not quickly or desperately, he takes his time slipping it down your body. His large hand grabs at your hip, his fingers playing with the thin material of your panties as his lips are still latched onto your collarbone, that he pulls away from to take a look at you.

There you lie beneath him in nothing but your matching underwear, your eyes hooded and filled with emotions you usually hide, your puffy lips are parted, your cheeks are flushed, you furrow your brows in need as you look up at him with pleading eyes.

He sucks in a shaky breath as his heart skips several beats, your beauty, your soft skin, your smell, the look in your eyes all being too much for his poor heart.

He is so genuinely done for – there is nothing he wouldn’t do for you, all you have to do is look at him with these eyes and he’d do anything you’d ask him to.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, unable to hold himself back with words a friend shouldn’t say with such emotions.

He misses the way your eyes widen and fill with surprise as he pushes his hands under your back so he can unclasp your lilac colored bra, he throws the lace down on the floor where your dress is lying.

He kisses your chest and wraps his plush lips around your nipple, his hands slip down your stomach and he hooks his finger around your panties, removing them slowly.

You look down at him, your heart unable to find calmness as everything he does, drives you crazy tonight. A gasp tears from your parted lips when he slips his fingers through your wet folds, teasing your entrance before he brings his digits up to your clit.

“S-Steve,” you moan as you bring your hand down to his hair, digging your fingers through it and gripping it tightly.

He meets your eyes and you watch how he kisses down your body, softly, gently, slowly and not tearing his eyes away from your face, he keeps looking, staring at you as his lips trail kisses down your chest, your stomach, your hip bones.

Is that what friends do?

Steve spreads your thighs and he lies down before you, he moves his palm from your knee to your hip, throwing one leg over his shoulder before he leans in closer to kiss your inner thighs, truly leaving no spot unkissed.

You swallow harshly, unable to figure out what to do with yourself when he handles you so carefully, so… lovingly, almost as though he could feel something other than lust for you.

You blink and stare in anticipation, breathy whines keep falling from your lips, the fluttering in your stomach growing stronger and stronger.

You lean on your elbows, not wanting to look away from him just yet. His hair is messy from your tugging, his cheeks are pink, his eyes dark and filled with something you cannot read.

He looks so pretty between your thighs.

Steve leans into you, licking his lips before he presses the tip of his tongue to your entrance, slipping it through your folds and bringing it up to your clit where he wraps his lips around it and starts sucking teasingly.

Your breath hitches in your throat, your brows furrowing even more than before as you grip his hair tightly.

He gives no time to react before he holds on tighter and begins to eat you out, hungrily yet softly. His movements are slow and sensual, his moans vibrate against you.

His name falls from your lips over and over again as your head sinks deeper into his pillows, everything about this brings you a pleasure you haven’t felt before, it’s so much more intense than usual.

“You always taste so good, baby,” he murmurs against you, nudging his nose against your clit as he slips his tongue into you, catching you off guard with his words and the sudden action.

His free hand slipping back up to your chest, he pinches your nipple and rolls it with his thumb before he grabs your breast.

“Don’t stop,” you breathe as you throw your hand over his, feeling out of control with your emotions when you slip your fingers through his and keep his hand there – right over your beating heart.

Steve moans approvingly, squeezing your hand as he deepens all his movements, adding his fingers as he continues on pleasuring you with his mouth – a kind of pleasure you both get lost in. Moans and whimpers echo through the room, you pant and breathe heavily as waves crash over your body and you get closer and closer to the edge he never fails to bring you to.

Watery eyes meet his soft ones, your fingers now molding together, your hips rising up to grind against his face as he unravels you. You see the way he is moving, the way his own hips grind against the mattress to find some sort of relief, his moans are just as desperate as yours.

His chin glistens with your slickness and he keeps moaning as though you’re the sweetest thing he ever tasted – and you are, you are the sweetest thing he ever tasted on his tongue, touching and feeling you this way burns everything in him and he can’t help but want more of it.

“You’re so close, I can feel it,” he murmurs against you, pressing kisses to your sensitive nub as his fingers curl deeply inside of you, the tips grazing that very spot that makes you whine his name so cutely.

You dig your nails into his skin as you still hold onto his hand, your other is still lost in his hair, gripping and tugging at it as the fire burns in your core, everything flutters inside of you. You blink through your tears and keep your eyes on him, watching the way he licks and sucks on your clit, the way he looks so content doing this.

You try to speak though your words get lost when he speeds up his movements, making you shut your eyes in pleasure as your jaw falls slack.

His long fingers slamming in and out of you, joined by his tongue again, he shakes his head from side to side, his nose nudging against your clit over and over again.

“Open your eyes,” he murmurs against you, his voice adding vibrations, “look at me, I want to see your eyes.”

You oblige, despite the tears that pool in your eyes, you do your best to grant him his wish.

“Just like that, good girl,” he hums and hits that spot inside of you, causing your whole body to tense up and your cries to fill the room. He doesn’t stop there, not even when your body falls limp and your heavy breathing along with the sensitive whimpers sounds through the room now.

Steve licks you through your high, moaning in delight and kissing your clit just to tease you, making you jerk and whimper.

“Please,” you whisper, looking at him with your teary, pleading eyes.

He pulls away but only to take his clothes off, finally, you were so lost in the pleasure you didn’t even notice just how much clothing was still on his body.

He tears his tank top off and throws it down on the floor, unbuckling his belt next and practically tearing down his jeans and boxers, letting his aching dick slap against his stomach, his tip red and leaking, his length twitching as it did the whole time he was eating you out, he nearly busted before, the sensation of it all tonight, being too overwhelming and it’s hard to keep himself together when he looks down at your pretty face and your bare body, your pussy glistening and so ready for him.

He could stare at you for hours but he feels so desperate to feel you, to be inside of you, he presses his palms against your knees and spreads them further apart, he settles in between them and leans down before you, looking deeply into your eyes after pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

He isn’t blind or unaware of the way your breathing stutters in your throat, the way you gulp and stare in confusion as you stare into his eyes.

And then, you raise yourself up a little, propping yourself up on your elbow as you slip your hand down his stomach, making him breathe in harshly as his heart skips a beat. In lust, he watches the way you slip your own fingers through your slick folds, gathering your wetness before you bring your hand up to his cock, wrapping your hand around it, you start stroking him slowly, making him whimper at the feeling. He grips the sheets beneath you and watches the way your much smaller hand moves around him, the way you tease his slit with your thumb, making him shudder over you.

“F-Fuck,” he whispers, trying not to close his eyes but this drives him crazy, the intimacy of it all making it all feel so much better, “just like that, baby.”

A tiny noise, something close to a whimper falls from your lips thanks to the nickname he started giving you on occasions.

“That feels so good,” he moans as he continues to watch, finding it hard to control himself, “are you ready for me?” He asks as his eyes move up your body before they meet yours again.

You nod quickly and buck your hips up, teasing both him and yourself when you slide the crown of his dick through your sensitive folds before you guide him into your entrance. He instantly reaches for your hip, digging his fingers into your skin as he feels your warmth sucking him in, your wet walls gripping at him despite not being fully inside yet. He watches your face, the way it scrunches up in pleasure, the way your jaw falls slack and your eyes stay glued on him as you watch the way his cock disappears inside of you. He listens to your moans and feels the way you hold onto his shoulders tightly the moment he takes control.

“Steve!”

His heart could beat through his bones and rip through his skin at this moment and he wouldn’t care.

He needs more, he needs you closer, he pushes in deeper and deeper, splitting you open and making you both whimper. He stills once he’s fully inside, letting out a shaky breath when he feels you pulsating around him.

You breathe heavily, he can feel it, your chest is flush against his, he’s got you close, just like he wanted you.

“S-Steve,” you repeat his name in a whisper, feeling overwhelmed by your emotions, by all those feelings, by this and yet you want more, you crave more, you crave him. You muster up all your strength and wrap your legs around his waist.

“I know, baby,” he whispers, surprising you for yet another time this night when he moves both his hands up your body, one slipping from your shoulder to your wrist and then to your hand, lying his palm flat against yours, he cups your cheek with his other hand, sliding it across your jawline as he tilts your head up so he can see your eyes, so he can gaze into them.

You feel as though your frown might stay permanent on your face after tonight, but everything he does confuses you, even more so when slips his fingers through the gaps in yours and intertwines them together, holding your hand tighter than ever before as he leans his forehead against yours.

His breath mingles with yours, his nose nudges against yours and your lips touch but he doesn’t kiss you yet, he squeezes your hand as he pulls out and pushes back in, stealing your breath away.

Everything about this feels so deep, so intimate, you feel vulnerable tonight with the way he handles you so differently.

Tears of pleasure and love prickle in your eyes and you suddenly find it hard to keep your emotions down, especially when he closes his eyes and he kisses you as though it’s the only thing he is meant to do. His palm rests against your jawline as his fingers get lost in your hair. Your moans match his own as he starts rolling his hips, slowly and deeply.

Your hands cling to each other, your chests are pressed together, he slides in and out of you, his tip hitting and rubbing against the spot that tears out sounds from you that you never made with anyone else before.

As deep and hungry as the kiss is, you want to feel him closer, so after swallowing down the confusion and leaving the questions for another time, you bring him closer by sliding your free hand down his back, stroking his skin and grazing it with your nails, you grab his ass and dig your fingers into his skin, causing him to moan even louder as he thrusts deeper.

You feel the shudders that grip at your body, the hot waves and the fire that burns within you, your heart that threatens to burst at the way it fills with even more love for the man panting above you, moaning just for you, because of you.

Even when he breaks the kiss, he doesn’t move away from your lips, keeping his against yours as he opens his eyes again to look at you while his hips move faster and he fucks into you deeper.

Steve strokes the top of your hand with his thumb, his other hand still resting on your jaw, his dark eyes gazing into your own, he looks at you so differently and it makes you want to cry, you are too overwhelmed, too sensitive, too vulnerable to feel such hopeful feelings when you know damn well that you could lose this and him any moment but how can you not hope when he looks at you as though you’re something worth loving, when he whispers your name as though it comes from his heart, when he pecks your lips and nuzzles his nose to yours.

No words are spoken, your touches and the eye contact are enough tonight, everything he could speak with his words are written in his eyes.

But everything that lies on the tip of your tongue, threatens to spill the closer you get and the longer he looks at you this way.

I love you. I love you. I love you, you scream in your mind, not knowing that these words match the ones in his mind.

Tears slip down your cheeks, tears that Steve kisses away with his lips as he holds you tighter and pulls you closer as his hips meet yours and he thrusts in deeper, his hand only letting go of your jaw so he can slip it down your stomach and touch you between your thighs, he catches your moan in a feverish kiss as his fingers rub at your sensitive nub.

Your tongues clash together and your lips move sensually and roughly as he moves faster, making himself whimper in need.

This isn’t the first time that Steve discovers something with you, but this makes him live through something entirely new, he had never felt anything like this before, he had never felt his heart race so fastly in his chest, he had never felt this kind of heat, this kind of fire burning in his whole body, nearly overwhelming him and making him cry too.

His newfound feelings make this experience even more pleasurable, to hear your moans and to feel you clinging to his shaking body, to know that he is the one who is getting to touch you and feel you like this makes him feel… special.

He wants you, he wants you in every way possible.

He can feel his heart yearning for you, yearning for more with you, he can hear it screaming your name.

Steve loves you, god, he loves you so much that his feelings nearly crush him.

He wants you to know, he needs you to know but his fears hold him back and he swallows them down, begrudgingly so.

If only he knew that you would cry tears of joy if he told you those three little words.

If only you knew that this isn’t just sex, that this is something else, that he is making love to you.

When you both reach your peak and you come undone, gasping and crying out in pleasure, you keep kissing, you don’t stop, despite the lack of air in your lungs, you keep kissing, you keep moving, you want more and more, you don’t want this moment to end.

You can feel the shift of emotions, his touches feel so different than they did before, his hands and lips linger a little longer, his eyes look at you in a way that has your own skipping and fluttering.

He keeps his fingers entwined with yours, even when he is no longer inside of you and chasing after his high, even when the moment is long over, he keeps holding your hand, he pulls you on top of him now, covering your lower half with the thin covers.

And now it’s you who cups his cheek to kiss him, sliding your fingers down his jawline and moving your lips against his, nuzzling your nose against his just the way he did before.

Steve runs his finger up and down your spine, playing with your hair and stroking your soft skin, smiling into the kiss as he gets lost in the feeling of love, a kind of love he never felt before.

Sweat shines on Steve’s forehead, his hair clinging to his skin, his cheeks more flushed than before, he is humming into the kiss, feeling every happy emotion flushing through him as you make noises that leave his stomach with butterflies.

You break the kiss with a soft giggle as you watch him chasing after your lips.

He puckers his lips, begging for another kiss and how could you say no to him?

You lean in again, not bothering to tuck your hair away when it falls in front of your face. You kiss his lips, only shortly, but enough to satisfy him.

“Hmm, I might have to do this more often,” he murmurs and cups the back of your head when you lay your head on his chest.

“Do what?” You ask as you loosen your grip on his hand and lay your palm flat against his, taking in the sight of how much larger his is.

“Cook for you, you got all soft on me, Blondie,” he whispers and plays with your fingers, lacing them together with yours, making your heart flutter yet again.

Your lips part and you raise your brows as you look at him, “oh, I got soft on you?”

He is teasing you, you can see it, the way his lips tug into a smirk and his eyes flash with amusement.

“Mhmm,” he nods, “got all sweet and adorable on me tonight, I can’t even remember what it’s like to deal with your mean side – not that I don’t like your mean side, I clearly do, turns me on, if I’m being honest.”

A surprised giggle falls from your lips.

It makes his heart flutter now, his eyes crinkle as a bigger smile appears on his face.

“You’re kind of a dork, you know?” You whisper and rest your chin on his chest, gazing up at him, starry eyed. “I almost don’t remember your sassy side.”

“Sassy?” He raises his eyebrows at you.

“Mhmm, you’re sassy, Lego head.”

He chuckles softly, “Lego head, you haven’t used that in a while.”

You giggle again and reach your left hand up to touch his hair, brushing away the curls that are stuck to his forehead.

“I bet you miss the nickname.”

You don’t see the way he looks at you, you never really do but the awestruck look in his eyes is so hard to miss.

“No, I kinda came to enjoy you calling me Stevie.”

You tilt your head to the side, looking back into his loving eyes, “oh?”

“Hmm,” you hum, smiling as you move closer to him, “Stevie… cute.”

You look at each other with smiles on your lips.

“Can I ask you something?” He whispers as he rests his palm along your jaw, tucking your hair behind your ear as his hazel eyes trace your features.

“Of course,” you whisper back.

He blinks, taking a moment to speak up again, his cheeks still glowing pink underneath the golden light from the small lamp on his desk.

“What’d you think of me when we first met?” He murmurs, blushing. “When we were teens… I mean…”

His thumb grazes your bottom lip, he touches you so softly, so gently as he looks at you with patience.

Your heart jumps in your chest, panic spreading around it as you repeat the question in your mind.

Oh Steve, if only you knew, you think to yourself as you stare at him, taking him in and how he looks at you.

No one’s ever looked at you this way.

No one’s ever touched you this way.

No one’s ever made you feel emotions that probably kept you alive during your darkest days.

He deserves honesty, doesn’t he?

But he is scared of it, you can see it in his eyes, you know how ashamed he is of how he acted as a teenager, and you know how bad he feels when others remind him of his past, teasing and laughing in his face about King Steve.

If only he knew how much you have worshiped the ground he walked on from the moment you laid your eyes on him, how you never once thought badly of him, not even when he hurt you with cruel words.

‘I have loved you from the moment your hand touched mine when you brushed past me in the hallway for the very first time.’ Is what you should say but you can’t, despite the aching feeling in your chest, you cannot utter these words, no matter the shift between you both tonight and the hope he filled you with.

But he waits, he waits for you to answer his question and who are you to leave him waiting?

“Insufferable. And a douche.” At those words, Steve’s eyebrows fall in sadness, prompting you to smile sweetly at him. “But I knew you never meant it. I knew it wasn’t truly you…”

“Oh? And how would you know that?” He asks, his thumb going in circles in the small of your back as your eyes twinkle with love, with admiration, with devotion.

“Because I saw you.”

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @maroon-cardigan @thecreelhouse @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @sherrylyn0628 @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars @moon-flowerrs

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington series #stranger things angst

478 notes · View notes

munsonson · 1 year

Text

𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐『••✎••』

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.1 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞

The cookie smell wafted welcomingly into her nose as she pulls open the oven door, The chocolate chips were plentiful, and she could see it was hot enough that it would practically melt over your tastebuds. She smiles, slipping on an oven mitt before taking the pan out.

What was supposed to be a day of tears and emotional eating turned into a productive day of baking and dressing herself nicer than she even had for school, and that was because she had tried to dress to impress Eddie. The thought saddened her a little, but she remembered Steve and the night he had planned for them and it didn’t hurt so much anymore.

While the cookies cooled, she removed her apron and went to grab some tupperware to fit it in before she pulled the phone off the receiver and dialed. It rang for just a minute before someone picked up.

It was the typical pizza joint greeting until, “this is Gareth, what can I get started for you today?”

Her mouth ran dry and she suddenly lost the ability to speak. Gareth was there when Eddie had started talking about her and much like the other Hellfire club members aside from Dustin and Mike, he didn’t jump to her defense. Would he recognize her voice? How embarrassing would that be? Should she just play stupid?

“Hel-” She quickly slams the receiver back down and picks it up, dialing a different number.

“Harrington residence!” Steve sings.

“I need to know if this is progress or not,” she starts, twirling the cord between her fingers. “Say Eddie’s friend works at the only pizza place Hawkins has, is hanging up before saying anything a good or bad thing?”

“Well, it’s not great,” Steve said. “But A for effort, love, no worries! You’ll get better. Comes with time, everything is still a little fresh, I mean it happened just today at lunch.”

She nods in agreement, glad she once again turned to Steve with this.

“Man, does this mean I’m not getting my Sausage Lovers’ Pizza?” he complains jokingly.

“In short of you making the call and requesting only non-Hellfire Club members deliver it, probably not,” she says, stretching the phone as far as it could go so she could start carefully placing the cookies into the tupperware, still hot and soft in her hands.

“I can make it happen, just get over here already,” Steve groans.

“Okay, okay, I’ll only be a minute. See you there,” she huffs, hanging up the phone and placing the plastic top onto the container. With her cookies safe and secure, she turns off the oven and gives her kitchen a once over before retrieving her car keys and leaving.

The night was still very young, the sun hadn’t even disappeared yet, painting Hawkins in a heavenly orange glow. Her car was in its typical place parked at the far end of her lawn. She opens the door and places the cookies down before hoisting herself up into the driver’s seat.

Pulling out of her drive, she takes the familiar route to Steve’s home, one hand on the wheel and the other keeping the tupperware steady.

Things tonight were going pretty good thus far. She’d been trying to keep her mind off of Eddie and all the awful things he’d said at lunch, knowing if she’d dwell on it it’d just make her feel worse. She didn’t wanna focus on that, she wanted to think about the night ahead of her that she’d get to spend with one of her best friends. Eating junk food and watching all the silly movies he liked. That sounded a great deal better.

Her old car sputtered and coughed as she ascended the lean hill that led up to Steve’s house, still perched at the top with the same intimidating hedges, walls, and the glow of his swimming pool he still neglected to properly take care of. Even still, it’s a welcoming sight.

She parks off the driveway, not wanting to block him or his parents from coming in and out, switching off the car and taking the container of cookies up towards the front doors.

She doesn’t get the chance to knock before Steve opens it, grinning down at her.

“My, my, my, what brings you here?” he asks.

“You gonna invite me in or let me freeze on your doorstep?” she sniggers. He clears his throat and holds his hand out expectantly. Rolling her eyes, she shoves the container into his chest and pushes past him.

“I was actually offering you a hand inside, jerk!” he calls over his shoulder. He shuts the door and follows her into the living room where the fire was already going and he had the movie paused on the TV. Blankets were piled haphazardly on the cushions along with two pillows from his bed from upstairs and the coffee table was pulled suspiciously closer. She can’t help but smile. He knew her legs couldn’t stretch as far as his to reach it, so he’d adjusted it without telling her.

“Wow, you really go all out for a casual movie night with your friend,” she says, turning back to him. He blushes in embarrassment, but he still smiles. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble, Steve, honestly.”

“Give me a break, I needed the reason to strip my bed. Bed bugs,” he says dramatically, lifting the comforter and holding it threateningly towards her. She yelps and jumps out of the way. He starts laughing. “No, but...look, I wanted you to forget everything that happened earlier today. Show you how you should be treated, even if it’s just by little ‘ol me.”

Her heart swelled. “Thank you.”

He shakes his head as if to tell her not to worry about it. He takes the cookie container and places it on the coffee table, walking around and flicking the light switches so the only thing keeping their faces illuminated was his abnormally big television screen his father swung for two Christmases ago.

“The pizza should be here any minute,” he says conversationally as he goes to finally sit on the couch. He pats the spot beside him invitingly. “I don’t wanna have to pause the movie again, so pop a squat and entertain me for a little, would ya?”

She nods and goes to sit down, instantly raveling herself up in his comforter. It smelled like him, and she was sure if she accidentally nodded off she’d get a mouthful of Steve Harrington’s glorious hairs plucked off his head from tossing and turning throughout the night.

“What movies you gonna burden me with tonight?”

“Bold talk for someone who didn’t have a hand in sneaking them out under Keith’s careful watch with those nifty security cameras he’s got installed.” Steve said. “Nothin’ special, though. Figured I’d appeal to your frilly girly senses, managed to snag Sixteen Candles and Footloose. But, just to clear my eyes at the end, I also nabbed Gremlins.”

“Seriously?”

“Hey, I gave you Molly Ringwald and Kevin Bacon, gimme a little leeway.”

“Fair enough.”

Steve pats her head, turning so she’d face him. “How you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yes,” she says defensively. He shakes his head, throwing an arm over the back of the couch and sneakily sliding his hand over her shoulders to tug her into his side. She doesn’t reject the contact. The closeness actually felt a little nice. He smelled like the video store. That was a strange thing to say, but Family Video did have a pretty distinctive aroma.

“He’s a dick,” Steve said again. “He doesn’t know great you are. And once he realizes it’s gonna be too late. You’re not boring, otherwise I wouldn’t have you here with me. Understand?” She nods and he kisses the crown of her head. “Stop getting mad over people who don’t have any kind of control over your life, alright? Especially not Eddie Munson.”

“Hard not to. God, it just sounds so pathetic. I want someone to be crazy for me, to want to constantly talk to me or think about me or wondering what I’m doing. And...I really wanted it to be Eddie for some reason. And there’s always wishful thinking, you know? Like you just hope and that’s enough because there’s just certain things you don’t wanna find out. And then...I did. I looked behind the curtain,” she rambled.

Steve doesn’t seem to know what to say to that. Really, she didn’t even know if she wanted him to add his two cents. That was just her flaunting her wounds like she was best at. Unfortunately for Steve, he was really easy to unload on because she knew he’d still be there after. It’s what made him so great.

“Is it narcissism? Or just loneliness?”

“Being human,” Steve gives the hidden third answer. “I feel shitty that he made you feel shitty.”

“Why?”

“Because you shouldn’t be feeling shitty at all. Of all people, you know?” Steve said with a shrug. “It just surprises me someone like him could do this to someone like you.”

“Someone like him?”

“Come on, don’t make me say it,” Steve scoffs.

“Well no...you brought it up, Steve, just tell me.”

“Well, Munson’s pretty...out there. I remember when I was in school, he’d just always be makin’ a complete fool of himself or he’d be mixing it up with the wrong crowds because he’s into that drug shit. He sold to me once, you know? But it was just weed.” Steve said. “When you told me you were seeing him I didn’t really believe it at first. That someone like him...could win over someone like you. It just didn’t make any sense. So the fact you’re taking this so hard, it’s...a little daunting.”

She didn’t know how to take that. Steve was clearly telling her she was way out of Eddie’s league and his words shouldn’t be bringing her as far down as they were. But that thought kind of angered her. She didn’t believe in leagues. She supposed the idea of it was just the remnants of King Steve still clinging to his subconscious, that some people were capable of attracting some people and not others. Or however they worked.

At the same time it was strangely comforting that he saw her this way, that...she was this unattainable being that someone like Eddie goddamn Munson could possibly think she was less than.

Before she could try to find the words to explain that to Steve, the doorbell rang. The pizza was here.

“I’ll get it,” Steve says softly.

For the rest of the night, they didn’t talk about Eddie again. She never got to tell him how she felt about his view on Eddie Munson and how he thought his words should(or, in her case, shouldn’t) affect her. Maybe that was a good thing. It seemed like whatever negative feeling about herself that she had, he had a way to counter it.

Nevertheless, she did have a really good time. Steve had kept things relatively normal, he made her laugh, he dropped a piece of pizza on the couch and she had to watch while trying not to laugh as he furiously dabbed it with one of his mom’s good towels.

He really did make her forget. Steve was a friend, a real friend to her tonight.

By now they were lounging, back to cable TV as she was slowly being lulled to sleep by the repetitive commercials and their incessant ramblings as they tried to get bored housewives to buy their products. Then Steve’s phone rang, startling them both into sudden consciousness.

“What the hell?” he grunts, stumbling to his feet. He was a little unsteady, having just been asleep. She reaches forward and stands him upright.

He makes it to the phone and practically rips it off the receiver.

“Harrington resi...” he trails off into a yawn. “Harrington residence....yeah....yeah, she’s here. Why? ...So? ....Relax, Henderson, I’ll just...Jesus.” He turns to her. “It’s for you!”

Confused, she gets up. She grabs the phone from him.

“Hello?” she says cautiously.

“Jesus, there you are! You realize how hard you are to track down?” Dustin’s voice said, irritated.

“Dustin? What’s the matter? Is everything okay?” she asks, worried.

“Yes! Yeah, it’s just....I didn’t see you at lunch, you know? I got worried. I tried to call you as soon as I got out of Hellfire about an hour ago and you didn’t answer, so...kind of called around until I could get ahold of you,” Dustin said.

Her heart swelled. This kid was a good one.

“What’re you doing at Steve’s?” he asks.

“Oh, um...Steve invited me to watch some movies and I fell asleep.” she said. That was technically the truth. She decided not to mention that the purpose of movie night was to help her forget Eddie’s cruel words.

“Oh, really?” Dustin asked, suddenly sounding like he was grinning. “I didn’t know you and Steve liked to host movie nights without us.”

“I don’t follow,” she said.

“Don’t let me interrupt you guys. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Lunch was pretty weird without you,” Dustin said.

“I doubt that,” she said, turning to give Steve an apologetic look. He shakes his head as if to tell her not to worry about it before trailing back towards the couch probably to fall back asleep.

“No, really. I think I prefer the dynamic with you around. Things get weird...um...Eddie today was weird.” Dustin said. She was tempted to to press on, get Dustin to come out and repeat what Eddie had said but decided against it. “You’ll still sit with us again Monday, won’t you?”

No. She definitely did not want to sit at that table again knowing the truth. What was worse, she couldn’t bare lying to Dustin. She really wanted to avoid talking about this, but it seemed like she didn’t have a choice.

“Actually, Dustin...I was there...today. You guys just didn’t see me,” she said. Before Dustin could question her now intentional absence, she continued, “I overheard what you guys were talking about.”

There was a long pause on his end.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what his problem is. B-But you heard Mike and I, right? How we...”

“You have nothing to prove, Dustin, this isn’t on you. And honestly I can’t even be mad at Eddie. He’s more than welcome to his opinion. I just don’t think I can sit there knowing he doesn’t think much of me. I’ll still be able to see you guys, I’m not gonna completely avoid...that would be childish. I think I’ll just sit with Robin o-or Nancy.”

“Maybe I can talk to him! Get him to apologize!”

“He has nothing to apologize for, Dustin, don’t do that,” she said sternly. “It’s fine, Dustin! This doesn’t change anything! I just think some space would be good.”

“Okay,” Dustin said, noticeably disappointed. “I gotta go. I have to meet Lucas and Mike tomorrow at the arcade. Maybe you can meet us there?”

“Yeah, maybe,” she said. “Night, Dustin.” He wished her a goodnight and, at last, she hung up the phone. She glances at the clock hung up on the wall, wincing at how late it was. She walks back towards the living area where Steve had made himself very comfortable in the little blanket and pillow fort they’d unintentionally made.

“Everything good?” he asks sleepily.

“Perfectly fine. Um...it’s getting late, Steve, I should go.”

“What? Why?”

“You probably wanna get some shut eye and I don’t need to burden you with my problems any longer. Thanks so much for tonight, though, Steve. It really helped.”

Steve scoffs, rolling his eyes. He lifts up the comforter he had covering the lower half of his body.

“Come on,” he said, leaving little room for argument. “It’s too late anyway. Robin crashes here all the time.” She hesitates for a moment, then moves around the couch to curl up beside him, surprised at how warm he was. He covers them both up and shuts his eyes again, as if this was completely normal. And why shouldn’t it be? They were friends. Close friends. Close friends had sleepovers.

She turned over to politely give him some space and not be all up in his business. She pulls the comforter up to her chin and shuts her eyes, trying to calm all of her swimming thoughts. Tonight was about forgetting Eddie Munson. Tonight was about fun.

With that, she slowly drifted off to sleep again.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜

Dustin hangs up the phone a little harder than he should have, clearly upset. Eddie, Mike, Lucas, and Jeff remained unburdened by his sudden hostility, all lazily lounging in Dustin’s living room as they watched his Friday the 13th copy he convinced Steve to let him rent despite his age.

“Who the hell was that that kept you so occupied?” Mike asked as he rejoins them, taking back his spot. Dustin doesn’t answer at first, accepting the bowl of popcorn offered to him by Jeff. After swallowing two handfuls, he gives it back and glares pointedly at Eddie. The metalhead doesn’t notice at first, too into the film to notice Dustin had even left in the first place.

“Steve was hosting a movie night, too,” he says instead, out of nowhere sporting a not-so-nice plot. He loved Eddie, respected him. He considered Eddie to be one of his best friends, but he knew he screwed up big time with her. And Dustin wanted him to get a little taste of his own medicine. “Wasn’t alone though.”

“Buckley keeping him company?” Eddie asked, eyes still not moving from the screen. So he was listening. Good.

Dustin smirks and looks at Mike. “No, you won’t believe who he’s got spending the night there with him.”

“Not my sister,” Mike said, looking green.

“What? No, man, she wouldn’t do that to Jonathan! No, it was...” Even Jeff had to look away from the movie.

“Steve and her? Really?” he asks.

Eddie, at last, seemed to finally look away from the TV screen. He didn’t look distraught, but he wasn’t exactly too keen on the news either. Good enough, in Dustin’s opinion.

“I didn’t know she and Steve were going steady,” he said.

“Eh, they’re not. Figure it’s a first date kinda thing. I actually think I interrupted something when I called,” Dustin said. Eddie’s eye twitches. “Decided to leave them to it. I’ll bug Steve tomorrow on the details when he goes to work.”

“Good for Steve,” Lucas chuckles from the beanbag, his smile quickly disappearing when Eddie’s head shot towards him. “I mean...wow...pretty surprising stuff. Uh, Jeff! Can I get some popcorn over here?”

“I guess that’s why she wasn’t there for lunch,” Dustin continued. “Think she wanted to go visit him at the video place.”

Eddie sits back in Dustin’s mother’s armchair, slowly moving his gaze back to the TV screen. He definitely didn’t look as comfortable as he was beforehand. Dustin knew she told him to not punish Eddie for this. But Dustin was notorious for not doing as he was told.

#`#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader angst #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader x steve harrington #eddie #stranger things #stranger things angst #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #hurt feelings #series

3K notes · View notes