#i have been writing a lot of steve harrington dealing with what it means to be 'an adult'

[formosusiniquis]

okay but what if I did a vandal rewatch and wrote about them having to deal with the approach of their 30s??

[withacapitalp]

All this was inspired by listening to She’s So Overrated by Madilyn Bailey so fair warning LMAO. Also this got SO MUCH LONGER THAN I MEANT IT TO IM SORRY IT WAS JUST ME WRITING DOWN AN IDEA......

Okay so I’m having thoughts about modern AU lead singer Eddie Munson who’s been in the industry for years with the boys. Corroded Coffin is a staple of the metal industry, but for a few years he’s been feeling really stalled in his career and just stuck in place. He’s still making music, still performing, but he feels like he’s getting farther and farther from that kid who used to scream and sing in his closet bedroom in the shoebox apartment he used to share with Wayne. 

So when he and the boys are in an interview and the interviewee brings up how “King” Steve Harrington from The Four is trying to reinvent himself with the help of former bandmate Robin Buckley, Eddie goes off. He works himself up into a little tizzy, ranting Munson Doctrine style about how a former teen pop star trying to become some second rate folk singer isn’t anything special, and that he wouldn’t be caught dead cashing in like that. 

That Steve’s music is bad (even though he’s honestly never listened to it) and “King” Steve is overrated. How even Beiber is better than him. He’s just bullshit. 

Of course the interview goes viral, and finds its way to Steve and Robin. Robin listens to it first and she doesn’t want Steve to watch it. She knows how close things like this cut him (especially that word), and how he’s been dealing with a lot of hate from everyone even from former fans who are confused by the sharp contrast of his new music- aka the music he’s finally being allowed to write now that he’s broken away from his momager- but Steve makes her show him. 

She’s sure that she’s going to have to spend the next week rebuilding his confidence. 

And instead, Steve’s lip curls into a smile, and he grabs his songbook, telling her to find her guitar. 

Eddie wakes up five days after the interview to a huge flood of social media notifications, a dozen missed calls from the boys and his manager and his uncle. He ignores them all and goes to see what he fucked up this time. 

Eddie opens Youtube and it’s at the top of his recommendations. The thumbnail is Steve and Robin sitting together with a guitar in her lap. The title of the video is just one word. 

Bullshit. 

This can’t be good. 

Eddie listens to it even though he doesn’t want to. He’s a lot of things, but he’s not a coward. Not anymore. He listens to it because he has to know how much he’s fucked up. 

And then he listens to it again. And again. And again. 

It gets stuck in his head. All of it. Not just the song (which admittedly is pretty killer) but also hearing the flippantly mean words he had casually thrown at Steve being shoved back in his face. He had seen Steve as an abstract thing, just a symbol of everything wrong with the industry, not a real person. And now this actual human being that he’s hearing has turned all of that garbage into a song that feels more genuine then most of the music on the last two albums he wrote himself. A song that has heart, joy, and a strong current of pain underneath, especially in the bridge where Steve just sings the word bullshit over and over. 

There’s even more than that. He also sees the way Robin and Steve interact while they’re working the smiles, the jabs, the silly little way Steve bobs his head along as he listens to her play, the way they both collapse into giggles at the end as Steve directly quotes the part of the interview where Eddie said that Steve “is just another laundry basket devil trying to act like a big shot now that he’s too old for teen girls to moon over.” 

He can’t remember the last time he and the boys had that much fun making a song. 

Hell, Eddie even sees their apartment. It’s a pretty nondescript room, but he can see the wear and tear on the furniture, the cobwebs in the corners of the room, the slightly drooping houseplant with the name “Dart” lovingly painted on its pot. It feels like a home, and as Eddie looks around at the bedroom in his far too big mansion, he feels even more like a fraud. 

Eddie listens to the song on repeat for most of the morning. In the afternoon he finally answers everyone, and starts to put his plan into motion. 

By that evening he’s on the phone with Steve asking him and Robin to help Corroded Coffin write their next song. 

[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man Part 8

Fic Summary: Steve 'the Hair' Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you'll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

(1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9)

Chapter Summary: Eddie explains himself, and you two make plans to hang out on purpose.

5.7k Words

a/n: Sorry I haven't been updating! I swear, I'm almost always thinking about this fic but I've been trying to figure out where to go with it. I'm started to see how I want to shape the story (over 40k words in, go figure). Thank you all so much for your patience!

Also, I've had a lot of people ask me about Paige and have shown interest in what happened between her and Eddie. She is actually from Eddie's prequel novel, Flight of Icarus! I'll still explain bits and pieces during the story, but I highly recommend reading the novel for the full context. I am trying to write this in a way you don't need to read FoI, but it does give extra context to the story.

Anyway, we continue.

Aside from the mixtape playing in the van, it was surprisingly quiet between you and Eddie. Despite his eagerness to show up and take you out, now that you were sitting in his passenger side seat again, he had no idea what to do next. The sound of Iron Maiden was rumbling through the van, crackling through the old speakers. 

It wasn’t often that Eddie was at a loss for words or couldn’t come up with something to say. After embracing his role in the Hawkins High ecosystem as the resident loudmouth freak he could always come up with something to say to break the ice or cause a ruckus. 

But, being loud wasn’t exactly a substitution for actual charisma. He could hold the attention of his Hellfire Club during the game, and keep them safe enough from most bullies even. But intimidation was different than... whatever the hell he was supposed to be doing here. Flirting? That seemed right. He knew he should be trying to flatter you or compliment you or do something to show that he had an interest in you. 

“So,” you were the one to break the silence between the two of you. “What have you been up to for the past two weeks?”

Eddie know what you actually meant was “What the fuck, man?” which was a really fair question. 

“I should have called you sooner.” It was best to go ahead and rip the bandaid off now and get this conversation out of the way. “I’m sorry, I wanted to but I couldn’t.”

“Why not?” you asked, leaning against the passenger side door as you looked at him. Despite your eagerness to get out of Family Video with him, he could see that you weren’t going to just let him not explain why he hadn’t talked to you. Not that he was going to leave you hanging like that anyway. 

“My phone blew up.” Eddie said bluntly. 

“Your phone blew up? Like... actually exploded?” you asked, trying to see if he was fucking with you. 

“Remember that huge storm a few weeks ago? Turns out that old trailers don’t exactly have the best wiring sometimes so when lightning strikes it knocks out power for a few days and fries some important wires.” he explained. “So... yeah, we just got a new phone today and when I tried to call...”

“So, I didn’t answer my phone so you decided to track me down?” There was amusement in your voice which he took as a good sign. “Seems like you could have done that part earlier. I’m not hard to find.” 

“I’m not exactly interested in stalking.” Eddie snorted. “I’m already on enough people's shitlist in town.”

“Oh, you’re no fun.” you laughed. “You know where I live, you could have shown up at my doorstep in the rain or used random phones around town to leave weird messages about how you can’t stop thinking about me or sent me letters with cryptic meanings.”

“Where do you come up with these things?” Eddie laughed, feeling the tension between the two of you start to dissipate. 

“I read a lot of bodice-ripper books.” you shrugged. “Trashy romance novels are a guilty pleasure sometimes.” 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a weirdo?” 

“Steve did about an hour ago when I suggested that Bozo the clown could be the shit out of Pennywise from It.” 

Eddie wasn’t sure what he expected you to say, but it wasn’t that. Every time you had shown up in his life, you had completely thrown him off. He was starting to suspect that no amount of “Munson Magic” was going to work on you. Not that he wanted to work his dad’s charm on you to begin with. 

What he really wanted to do at that moment was ask you about your little bet with Steve. No, wait, not a bet. A deal? Maybe he should have asked Dustin more questions, or at least waited until after Hellfire to talk to the kid- 

”So what’s the plan?” You broke through his thoughts once again. “You show up out of nowhere and have me get into your unmarked van to take me to a second location... is there a second location in mind?”

There wasn’t, Eddie really hadn’t thought that far ahead.He’d panicked after his talk with Wayne and had shown up to Family Video on the chance that you’d been there. He’d run straight out the door with every intention of finding you and let you know that he was stupid for not trying harder to call you before. 

”I figured we could just... drive.” He wished he could ignore the sudden parallel between you and Paige. He wished that he could just forget about what happened in ‘84. Fuck, him and Paige never even had an official date, only hooking up in his van for a few weeks before everything blew up. 

Wait, was this a date? Crap, that had been the plan right? Show up, ask you on a date and then... then he’d be on a date. What the FUCK was he actually doing? He was acting so fucking awkward now- everything had been easier before. Why did Dustin have to open his big mouth about this?

“Just driving sounds great.” you said, and Eddie once again tried to relax. Every girl he had been with had wanted something from him. Nicole Summers and Cass Finnigan just wanted bragging rights that they got with the freak, and Paige had wanted him to be a rock hero. What did you want from him?

“Have you eaten?” It wasn’t exactly late, but it wasn’t really early in the evening either. His uncle always asked him that whenever one of them got home, and it had taken Eddie an embarrassingly long time to realize that it was Wayne’s way of showing that he cared. 

“I could eat.” you replied, which at least gave this... whatever this was, some structure for the night. Eddie didn’t have a lot of cash on him, but he could probably scrape together enough to get you each a burger or something. 

When the Iron Maiden tape clicked off and spat itself out, you took it upon yourself to pull it out and look it over. “Got any other tapes in here? I need to judge your music taste.” 

That made Eddie laugh “You and every other person in this town. I have a few more tapes in here.” He tapped on the center console which you eagerly dug into, flipping through the different cassettes with eagerness. 

“Metal. Metal. Metal. Metal.” You said, going through each cassette one by one. “I’m starting to see a pattern here, Eddie.” 

“What gave it away?” He said deadpan. “Was it that I play guitar or the fact that we’ve only bonded over music so far?”

“And Chris Morrison.”

“And Chris Morrison.”

“It was your hair, actually. You look so much like Eddie Van Halen it’s actually uncanny.” You looked up from the tapes and he could feel your eyes studying his face. He was glad that it was dark out now, as he could feel warmth rising in his cheeks at the comparison. Was that a compliment? Were you into him looking like Van Halen? 

“Van Halen?” Eddie asked. “I figured I was more of a Kirk Hammett type.”

“The hair yes,” you agreed, still staring at his face as he continued to drive. “But your smile is definitely more Van Halen.”

When was the last time someone had ever looked at him with that much consideration before? Something in Eddie’s gut twisted as he glanced over at you for a split second to meet your eyes. Huh, that was weird. Had anyone made him nervous like this before? Yeah he’d been attracted to Paige but this was starting to feel different. 

He really needed a cigarette right about now. 

“I hope that’s a compliment.” Eddie managed to say as he fumbled for the packet of Camels in the cupholder by him. 

“Oh, it is. I promise.” you replied, digging out a lighter and helping him light the smoke in his mouth. The world's tiniest supernova...

Eddie hated that the closest thing he had to compare notes on when it came to a healthy romance was two months with Paige and a handful of movies that he barely watched. 

You went back to his tapes, and seemed to pick one out. You removed the tape that had been spat out, put it back in the appropriate case (which Eddie found himself appreciating), and he was surprised to hear the old riffs of Muddy Waters playing. 

“A palate cleanser.” you said, leaning back into the passenger side seat. 

Eddie felt his mind reeling from your choice of music. Muddy Waters had been how his mom introduced him to rock at a young age. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the well loved tape as he pulled into the drive in of the next fast food joint he’d seen. 

When he pulled up to the window to pay, a fresh ten was shoved in his face before he could even reach for his own wallet. It took a moment for him to realize that you were wanting to pay. 

“You got me out of work early, it’s the least I can do.” you said, not giving him the option to say no as cash was exchanged for a bag of questionable but cheap food. You held the bag in your lap as Eddie started making his way out of town. 

“So is this an ‘eating van’ or a ‘non-eating van’?” you asked, messing with the top of the bag. 

“I think I’d starve if I didn’t eat in here.” Eddie snorted. “Knock yourself out.”

You wasted no time digging into the fries and taking a few for yourself as Eddie went to the only place that he could afford to take you right now that might be date worthy. 

Luckily, Lover’s Lake was quiet and private on weeknights. If Eddie had taken two minutes to plan this better, he would have thought to maybe clear out the back of his van and set out a blanket and have a picnic. When it came to music and D&D he was great at planning out details, with dates? Not so much. 

This isn’t a date. He reminded himself for the hundredth time tonight. She’s just a girl that you ran over to spend time with the second it occurred to you that she might have an interest in you and she really willingly hopped in your van and your friends actually like her-

Shit. This had to be a date right? Neither of you had said the word but that’s what it was... right? 

Eddie was snapped out of his thoughts with the sweet smell of hot potatoes and grease was wafting under his nose. You had shoved a few fries in front of his face and Eddie wasted no time in taking them. You continued to absently feed him fries as he found a spot to park.

The two of you divided up the food on his dashboard, and Eddie rolled down the windows to let the cool autumn air in. 

“So... what are you gonna be for Halloween?” Eddie asked, wincing internally. When was the last time anyone he knew had dressed up for Hallowen? Okay, so Hellfire Club did tend to dress up on Halloween for a special one shot but that was different- no one came to school in costumes anymore.

“It depends on my plans.” you answered. “Halloween is on a Thursday so I’m usually working. If I have a morning shift I’ll probably do zombie makeup for work, if Steve and Robin are working with me that day I think we’re gonna attempt to be Luke, Leia, and Hans.” 

“And are you gonna be Leia?” Eddie asked. 

“Ideally, I wanted to be Chewie but I don’t have the time for that.” you laughed. “Robin and I voted on Steve to Be Leia. Robin will be Luke, and I’ll be Hans Solo with a teddy bear.”

“Please tell me that Harrington isn’t going to be in the bikini.” Eddie laughed. 

“Keith said costumes had to be work appropriate so, sadly, Steve will not be gracing the store with his sweater-vest chest hair under a bra.” You sighed dramatically. “It’s like he hates the idea of us having fun!” 

“What if you have to close?” Eddie prompted, adjusting in his seat to lean against the door to face you as best he could. Next time he was absolutely clearing out the back to give you both more room. 

“Oh, I am not closing.” you said firmly. “And if Keith thinks he can schedule me that day he can suck it because I have plans.” 

You already have Halloween plans. Of course you would. It’s not like you had to worry about school on a weekday like he did. Eddie tried not to deflate in front of you and remained calm. 

“And what plans would that be?” he asked. 

“Have you ever seen The Rocky Horror Picture Show?” you asked, a smile tugging at your lips. 

He had, once, with Reefer Rick a few months ago when picking up his usual supply. A quick pick up had turned into a game of pool, which had turned into the two of them high on Rick’s couch watching an old VHS tape while Rick laughed his ass off and yelled at the tv before passing out in the middle of Tim Curry seducing Brad and Janet. 

“Once.” Eddie said, not giving the exact details of circumstance. “With a friend, I didn’t really get it.” 

“Did you see it in theaters or did you just watch it at home?” you asked, finishing off your food. 

“Friend’s house.” 

“Oh, no wonder you didn’t get it. Rocky Horror is an experience, you can’t just pop the tape in and watch it. You have to come see it in a theater.” As you spoke you were absently folding a napkin in your lap turning it into what looked like a heart. When you were done with that one, you started with another shape with a different napkin. 

“Is that an invitation?” Eddie asked, tearing his eyes away from the way your fingers moved for now. He found his heart pounding in his chest, unsure if you were actually wanting him to come to this, and from the knot forming in his stomach as the shapes you were folding reminded him of the times he met you before. 

“It is.” you confirmed, the ninja star you had shaped with the napkin was placed on the center console as you grabbed another napkin. “...It could also be a date.” 

Despite the period at the end of the sentence, Eddie heard the slight waiver in your voice on the word date. It was that same nervous stammer that had been in Paige’s voice when she offered to let him move in with her in California, it was the same hesitant inflection that one of his Hellfire players used when they weren’t sure if Eddie would approve of what crazy plan they had for their character. 

Aside from that first awkward meeting at the Palace Arcade, you had been pretty confident and upfront with him. Now here you are, laying out your intentions and seeing what he would do. 

What would he do? Eddie had shown up at Family Video with no real plan. He only knew he wanted to see you again, and he knew that Dustin and Steve were trying to set you two up. And it’s not like Eddie was completely against the idea of going on a date with you. You were sharp, and you kept him on his toes, and when you smiled at him it felt like his brain might short out. 

But he had also panicked when he had thought that you were going to kiss him before. After Eddie’s disastrous break up with Paige two years ago, it’s not like he’d been completely against any physical relationships. There had been a grand total of two other hook ups that he’d sabotaged. People weren’t interested in getting to know the freak, they just wanted to say that they had been with him. So both times, Eddie had made sure that he’d been a lousy date and a decent enough lay before deciding that he’d rather had a date with his right hand and a Heavy Metal magazine.

Eddie would rather the rumor mill call him a boring date rather than set a standard that he’d go out with anyone who asked. He wondered if he had, would Steve have put his name on the town marquis for the world to see? Would Eddie ‘the Slut’ Munson be treated any differently than Eddie ‘the Freak’?

Shit, you were still waiting for a response. 

“A date.” Eddie finally managed to echo your last words back at you. The napkin you had been messing with in your hands was now taking the shape of a ninja star. 

“I mean, if you’re interested.” you said quickly. “It could just be a friend thing. Or you probably already have plans for Halloween-”

“I don’t.” Eddie interjected. “It could be a date.”

He watched your shoulders relax and you smiled up at him. “It’s a date then.” You grabbed a napkin and your green marker out of your bag and scribbled something down, handing it over to him. 

“In case your phone blows up again, here is the date and time and location for the Halloween showing of the movie.” your eyes narrowed slightly at him. “And my work schedule has been hectic but I consistently work on Sunday’s and clock out at four.”

Eddie got the message loud and clear, he would know where to find you now. There wouldn’t be any excuses for not reaching out, but two could play at this game. He took the marker from your hand and grabbed his own napkin, scribbling his own phone number down and handing it over to you. 

“I’m at school all week, but I still play at the Hideout on Tuesdays.” He answered back. “Friday is Hellfire.”

With that, the playing field felt a little more level. Both of you now had the power to track the other one down or call when needed.   

“So what are you going to be for Halloween?” you asked, tucking the napkin with his number into your bog. 

“Oh, haven’t you heard? When you’re the town freak every day is Halloween.” Eddie chuckled. 

“So what, you’re gonna put on a polo and khakis instead?” He liked the way you scrunch your nose when you laughed. “Ditch the jewelry and cover your tattoos?” 

“That would probably scare some of the teachers at school.” Eddie had considered doing exactly that, but he really didn’t think he’d want that kind of attention. “No one dresses up at school anymore.”

“Boring.” You sighed. “I tried dressing up for Halloween my senior year but when I got to school my friends convinced me to change clothes.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “You don’t seem like the type to let other people tell you what to do.” 

“Now I’m not.” you shrugged. “I’m not in high school anymore, and all those people that I saw everyday? Turns out I was only friends with them because I saw them every day. Once you get away from that forced routine you realize that it’s all bullshit.”

Eddie could relate, probably better than anyone else. He was so sick of the day to day hierarchy of highschool that he’d scream it from on top of a table. Literally. 

“What were you trying to be before your friends killed your fun?” Eddie asked. 

“A pirate. It was last minute but I had a bandana, an eyepatch, a sock puppet with feathers glued to it for my parrot, and a wire hanger I was carrying around as a hook.” you laughed at the memory. “I ended up dropping the eyepatch before my friends made me change because I kept running into people. My wire hanger was confiscated, some asshat stole my parrot, and one of my friends gave me a sweater to change into. I didn’t even make it to first period in that outfit.”

Eddie had made it a point to not pay attention to anyone outside of his small group at school, only ever keeping an eye out for lost sheep that didn’t have anywhere else to go. He wondered, if he had seen you that morning in the brief window before you were pushed back into conformity would he have noticed you? Talked to you? You had already been nice to him before. 

“Wait,” Eddie over at you, taking in the picture you had painted for him. “You made a sock puppet parrot?”

“I needed a parrot, or else no one would get it!” you explained. “But then when I took it off and left it to go use the bathroom it was gone. I finally found the thief in fourth period because they kept playing with it and squawking my own parrot at me. But by that point I had just cut my losses and had given up on Halloween.”

“Are you usually this crafty?” Eddie asked, once again looking at the final napkin you were folding into what looked like an old cootie catcher. 

“I get bored easily.” you said. “If I don’t have something to do with my hands I can’t focus.”

“How’d you start with the whole-” Eddie grabbed one of his slightly used napkins and gave it a wave. “Folding thing?”

“Fourth grade show and tell.” you said. “I did not prepare anything and so I spent a full ten minutes in the school library to find something to show. I found a book on origami, found the easiest thing to make and realized that I actually enjoyed it.”

If that was a mystery, it sure did get solved right there. Eddie wanted to ask about Steve and Dustin. He wanted to ask you why him? He could keep his mouth shut, let this whole thing play out and see what happened. Eddie could sit here, and enjoy the fact that a girl was giving him the time of day and leave everything up in the air just like he had with Paige. 

“So I heard you and Steve had a deal going on.” Eddie said. “Something about getting dates?”

You froze for a second, the completed cootie catcher in your hands. Things were dead silent for a grand total of ten seconds. Ten agonizingly long seconds. Even the cassette player had clicked off and was now whirring as it rewind the Iron Maiden tape. 

Then you started laughing. A lot. 

“Jesus, Eddie!” you said, wiping your eyes with the ninja star as a tear threatened to spill down your cheek. “I tell you I have origami as a hobby, and you follow up with ‘So I heard you and Steve are trying to get dates.’ Seriously?”

Eddie remained silent at your reaction, trying to process your laughter. You didn’t seem scared or nervous that he had called you out, and he had to admit that he hadn’t completely thought through the consequences of asking you that question. 

“Who blabbed?” You asked, after your laughter had calmed down. 

“Henderson.” Eddie admitted and, in an attempt to ease any lingering tension he leaned forward to rest his elbow on the center console and held his chin in his hand as he looked at you. “That shrimp informed me that you found me so irresistible that you begged Steve to set you up with me.”

“Is that right?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Oh yeah,” Eddie agreed. “Told me all about how ever since Chris Morrison shot you down, you’ve been desperate to get my attention to get back at him.”

“So which is it, am I attracted to you or am I using you to get back at a guy I talked to once in high school years ago?” you asked. Eddie saw a glint in your eyes, the same one he’d seen that first night at the arcade when at the air hockey table. 

“Both are true.” Eddie continued to explain, a shit eating grin on his face. “You see, you were originally going to use me to get back at Chris, but then you saw me play guitar and instantly fell in love.”

“Damn, this sounds like the plot of a terrible movie.” you laughed. “So is this the part where I tell you that ‘It started out like that, but I swear it’s not like that anymore!’? Do I beg on my knees that my feelings for you are genuine, even though we’ve hung out a grand total of two-and-a-half times?”

Five times, but who’s counting? 

“What’s the half-time?” Eddie asked. 

“You ditched me at the arcade after I said I’d be right back.” you stated matter-of-factly. “I’m hoping it’s not a pattern where you start dropping off the face of the earth just when things start getting good.”

“Between you and me,” Eddie leaned in closer. “I thought Dustin was trying to set me up with Steve. Not you.” 

Cue more laughter from you as you threw your head back. “Are you kidding me?! Dustin makes me and Steve show up to an arcade and tries to force a meeting with you- and you thought you were supposed to be dating Steve?!” 

“Not dating!” Eddie clarified quickly. “You see, Steve and I only have one thing in common and that’s Dustin Henderson. Kid practically worships Steve. I thought he was trying to get us to be friends or something.”

“Oh my god, you thought Dustin was trying to hook his two dads up!” Your cootie catcher was now crumpled up in your hands, stained with tears from your laughing. “I’m a homewrecker!” 

Yeah, this really wasn’t going the way Eddie had expected it. 

“Shit, Eddie, I’m sorry.” you said, your laughter calming down into giggles instead. “Have I been reading this whole thing wrong? I mean, if you have more of an interest in Steve I could probably set that up. He’s only ever shown interest in girls but you have long hair and are pretty enough-”

“No.” Eddie said. “I don’t have an interest in Steve- you think I’m pretty?” How were you able to throw him off so easily? He could tell that if you had been able to join Hellfire you would have been a menace at his table.

“Extremely.” you said, your voice more sincere now. 

The two of you just stared at each other for a while and Eddie felt that same twisty feeling in his gut again. You thought he was pretty. That was good, right? Did you like pretty boys? You were pretty- he liked that a lot. 

“I...” Eddie started and then dug deep inside himself to find the words he wanted to use. “Prettier than Steve?” Those were not the words he wanted to say, but he said them anyway. 

“Steve is conventionally attractive but, as I said before, not my type.” you said. “I like guys with long hair anyway.”

Eddie really couldn’t tell if he was nailing this or blowing it. “So, what is your type?” 

“I’ll tell you mind if you tell me yours.” you countered. 

Had Eddie ever really thought about what his type was? Yeah, he’d had ill-advised crushes and had been attracted to various women in comics and tv but did he have a type? He tried to connect all the girls in his mind that he’d been with, trying to find a pattern. 

Someone who actually pays attention to me. That’s pretty sad, Eddie. He came to the conclusion. Yeah, aside from his disastrous kiss with Ronnie five years ago, every girl he’d been with had been the one to show interest first, and you were no exception. But had he actually had feelings for the others? Not really. Attraction? Yeah. Feelings? Well, with Paige he had been far too busy dealing with Corroded Coffin, his dad, and school to really decide what he felt for Paige. Any other small flings had been dead on arrival.

So why did he keep wanting to spend time with you?

“Don’t go spreading this around,” Eddie started. “But if I had to pick a type, it’d be She-Hulk.” 

“She-Hulk?” you mulled that over in your mind. “So tall, green, and angry?” 

“Strong-willed, and funny as shit.” Eddie corrected. 

“And green.”

“And green.” 

“If I had known that earlier I would have picked Kermit the Frog as my Halloween costume this year.” you teased. “I don’t have a character off the top of my head, but I like people who feel.. Real.”

Real. The word that Paige and him had used over and over in those two months. 

“What’s real to you?” 

“Not high school.” you said. “Someone who’s not afraid to exist and be themselves. I’m most attracted to anyone who can let go of their desperate ego and just have fun. High school was boring because everyone was so wrapped up in their own bs of looking cool that they didn’t do anything that they actually wanted to do. Shit, even I fell into that.”

Eddie didn’t want to ask if he was real to you. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for an answer. There were lots of times he wished that he wasn’t still in school, but this time really hit harder. He was starting to really like you, and yeah part of him was terrified of that. 

The two of you finished off the last of your food and Eddie shoved all the leftover trash into the brown bag and tossed it in the back so you wouldn’t be stepping on it. 

“I don’t know much about real anymore, but I think you’re pretty badass.” Eddie finally said. “I mean, you brought a wire hanger and a fake parrot to school for a costume. That’s pretty brave, even if your friends did talk you out of it.”

“I’m more mad that the parrot was stolen and used to annoy me than the lack of costume.” you said with a small laugh. “They weren’t even funny. They just kept repeating what I said. It was easier to just shut up at that point.” 

“Didn’t think to make them say anything embarrassing?” 

“Oh, I tried. But, jocks don’t know the art of a good ‘Duck Season, Rabbit Season’ gag. Anything embarrassing I said they’d just turn it around. I’d say ‘I pissed myself in gym.’ they’d reply with ‘you pissed yourself in gym’. No love for comedy.” You took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. “If you’re going to be a bully, at least give me a good story to tell later, you know?”

“I once got slammed against a locker by a jock who called me ‘a myriad freak.” Eddie said. “To this day, I still don’t know what he was trying to mean by that.”

“See? At least that’s funny.” you said, and then. “Holy shit, we’ve gotten off topic.” 

“There was a topic?” Eddie leaned back on the seat again. 

“Yes, an important one that I was very interested in before we started talking about bullies and high school and She-Hulk.” you nodded. 

Talking to you was so easy that he hadn’t realized how many topics the two of you had blown through in a short amount of time. He looked at his watch real quick and realized it was creeping towards 11 pm now. Had the two of you really been talking that long?

“What topic was it?” 

“You flirting with me.” you said, your lips pulling back in a cheshire grin. “I’m pretty sure you were at least, before I became a homewrecker between you and Steve. Normally I’d hate to break up a happy family, but I might have to make an exception this one time.”

“Was I flirting?” Eddie tilted his head with his own grin. “I’m pretty sure I was just telling you that I thought Dustin was trying to make me be friends with Steve. If I had known that the shrimp was trying to introduce me to a cute girl-” He would have shot it down and canceled Side Quest Day- “I wouldn’t have left the way I did.”

“You think I’m cute?” 

“Extremely.” 

You nodded. “Alright, then it’s a good thing that we’re going on a date. I’m glad to know that I’m not coming between you and Steve.”

It was just past midnight when Eddie dropped you off at your apartment that night. This time when you leaned over the center console towards him, he didn’t freeze up or panic. Eddie let you hug him and he hugged you back, his cheeks growing hot momentarily when he felt your lips press against his cheek and he was able to breathe in your scent. 

“See you later, Eddie. Oh, and for the movie- I highly recommend dressing up.” you looked him up and down. “Actually, just wear what you’d normally wear. I think you’ll fit right in.” 

Eddie made a mental note to ask Rick later on what he was supposed to wear for this. 

“I’ll call you.” he said. “I promise. I mean it this time.”

“Not if I call you first, I have your number now. And worst case scenario, I know where you play.” you responded. “See you Tuesday, Eddie.” 

And with that you were gone again, leaving Eddie alone in the van feeling much better than the last time he had given you a ride. There were still questions he had. He still wanted to know why exactly everyone was wanting the two of them to meet again, and why you always so readily agreed to meet up with him. But those were questions for another day. 

“You had a missed call.” Wayne said as Eddie made his way into the trailer. “Didn’t leave a name or number. Said she’d call you back.”  

Eddie laughed and shook his head, guess you meant it when you said you’d call first. 

“Don’t stay up too late watching tv.” Eddie said before heading towards his bedroom. He once again found himself falling asleep with his copy of The Hobbit, the origami flower tucked safely in the back. 

Next Chapter

Ending note: This fic takes place during October 1985. Stephen King’s It did not come out until September 1986. I would like to ask you all politely to suspend your disbelief for the historical inaccuracy of a piece of dialogue that probably didn’t add much to the plot. If this horrible inaccuracy bothers you, please repeat to yourself “it’s just a fic, I should really just relax” which is what most of us should be doing anyway.

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

Tag List: @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n @mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea @vintagehellfire @royale1803 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirl320 @perpetualmess @thebook-hobbit @mistonk @cultish-corner @grishaversecaptivated @sortagaysortahigh @halialex1119 @bakugouswhOr3 @siriuslysmoking @pookiesnatcher @sky-full-0f-fl0wers @takemetoneverlandbabe @killjoynotes @maelibo

[tinytalkingtina]

Wiggly 🧠🪱 Wednesday

@devondespresso Tagged me in this forever ago and I finally had one wiggle its way into my brain!

This week been fiddling with the idea of a true role reversal Steddie, with Eddie as the popular jock and Steve as the metalhead (as opposed to a punk). This got a little away from me, haha. No idea for a story or how other characters might fit in, but if anyone wants to take the concept and run with it feel free!

Eddie

Eddie is still poor, and still lives with his uncle (let's pretend he had to repeat a grade due to the chaos of moving in with Wayne). But he's Hawkin's star track runner/lightweight wrestler, channeling his energy into sports and competition. His grades are probably still not great, but since he's winning awards at meets, teachers let a lot more slide, and he skates by most of his classes with low C's. If he's loud and excited, then well, that's just what jocks do, right?

Wayne works nights, so Eddie is usually left to his own devices. Sure, the trailer can't hold that many people (and maybe Eddie has a bit of a chip on his shoulder that he lives in the trailer park), but this is the Midwest, and Eddie is creative. He hosts big bonfire ragers out in the woods, deep enough that the cops can't easily break them up.

Eddie's "Munson Doctrine" is from the perspective of being a jock. Mixed with his insecurities, it becomes about staying on top, no matter what. That means dating around, taking girls out most Fridays. He likes girls and has plenty of fun. And if he occasionally slips in a fantasy or two about drug dealer Steve Harrington pinning him against a wall with that knife of his, no one needs to know.

Steve

Then we have Steve. Steve's had piano lessons since he was 5. A framed picture of him in his bow tie and tiny suit at his first recital sits on his mom's desk. He's good at sports and does Little League as a kid, but they don't hold his interest, not the way music does. When he hits middle school, him and his dad have a huge fight over him refusing to try out for any sports. The cracks were already there, because his parents are louder than they think when they argue. To drown them out, he turns on the radio, spinning the dials. By chance, he finds a Black Sabbath song. Something in it speaks to him, gives an outlet to the frustration and anger he's feeling.

Steve picks up drums to play in band at school, but he also borrows books from the library and teaches himself guitar after begging his mom for one for his 13th birthday. He makes a few friends, they start a band. As he enters high school his parents fight more. His grades, never great to begin with, slip further, so no more allowance for Steve. The first time he tries to steals a tape, he's caught almost immediately. But he gets better at it over time. Can't steal tattoos though, and Steve's not a great artist. So maybe he starts dealing. His parents work late most nights, so they don't need to know about his...extracurricular hobbies.

Even if he's not at the top of the high school food chain, Steve's still good at reading people and social situations. I don't think he would have the desire to DM AD&D, but I think Steve makes a good player, always solid at strategizing. In the hallways, he sees and overhears things, enough that he's able to keep the heat off him and his friends with some clever insinuation, and the threat to cut off anyone who tries something.

He sees the way that loudmouth jock Eddie Munson's eyes flick down to his lips when he buys weed off him at parties too, the guy isn't nearly as subtle as he thinks he is. Steve would love to take him down a couple pegs, if Eddie'd let him.

Thanks to @little-annie for some ideas on fleshing metalhead!Steve out more :D

Edit: check out the role reversal steddie tag for snippets of what Annie and I are writing now :)

No pressure tags to some folks (and if anyone wants to be tagged in the future let me know!): @augustjustice @hbyrde36 @puppy-steve @soaringornithopter

@hairstevington @eyesofshinigami

[louloulemons-posts]

Hello! I saw that you are accepting requests for strangeк things and I decided to try ... I really like reading your work and I would like you to write my idea if it's not difficult for you. In general, I sincerely believe that there is very little jealous!Eddie in the world and it kills me. What if Eddie and reader aren't together YET, but Munson is so damn jealous of her for Steve, and Steve and reader don't understand why Eddie is so...mean

+ extra points if Dustin solved all the problems again 😐😐

Sorry if this is too long and stupid! Love you!!!

Words Of Jealousy

Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader

Summary : Eddie can’t stand reader and she has no clue why.

Word count : 2.1k

Warnings : Not proofread, some parts were written at 3am and some at a normal time (i can only apologise i love napping) swears, eddies stupid, minor angst, eddies mean to reader, reader shouts at eddie, reader panics about death (it’s kinda funny), brief talks about the upside down, happy ending, fluffy, idiots in love.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You don’t really know why’s it like this, but it always had been. Eddie didn’t like you that much was clear. Snide comments, eye rolls, chuckling when you embarrass yourself.

All in all he was an asshole. He came into your friend group a few months back, you’d seen him around before that, but hadn’t interacted much.

Steve Harrington had been your best friend since Pre-K, being inseparable (minus the King Steve - which you’ll forever tease him for) A lot of people assumed you’d end up together, however, the idea of that was gross to both of you.

You had dealt with the whole Upside Down situation also, becoming close with a lot of other people - including Robin Buckley, your other bestfriend and third of your trio.

“So I was thinking, we could have a movie night?” Steve said, his parents had been back for a week and had now gone on another business trip. He needed a fun night after dealing with those two trolls.

“Sounds good, but you’re not picking,” you spoke. “Why not?”

“Because your movie taste is awful,” Robin spoke, shoving a handful of M&Ms into her mouth. “What the hell? It’s not, I literally work in a movie store!”

“Which makes it so much worse,” you sighed, leaning your head on robins. “I’ll pick them out,” Robin spoke.

“Now you I trust.” She leaned her head back and kissed your chin.

“Fine fine, I’ll invite people.”

“Who are people?” you asked.

“Well you know, Nance, Jonathan, the kids, and you know …” he mumbled something.

“What was that?” He mumbled again.

“Couldn’t quite hear you Stevie.”

“Eddie.” You rolled your eyes, groaning. “He’s not that bad!” Steve tried to say.

“To you. He’s horrible to me and I don’t even know why!”

The bell to the store jingled, a sign that someone had walked in. “Speak of the devil,” you said, kissing Robin on the top of the head before jumping off the counter. “I’ll see you guys later,” you said to Robin and Steve, kissing the boys cheek as you passed.

“Aw going so soon Sweetheart?” Eddie asked, exaggerated pout on his face. “Oh bite me,” you said, shoulder bumping him as you went past.

What an asshole.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Steve had called you later on and apologised about the fact that Eddie was coming. He had begged you to come also, of course you said yes. You didn’t like Eddie, but that wouldn’t ruin your relationship with your best friend.

Climbing out of the car with your bag - you planned on staying the night, like most nights. You walked into Steve’s house, calling out a greeting.

“Hey,” he shouted back, head popping round a corner. “I’m taking my stuff upstairs, I’ll be back in a minute.” Jogging upstairs and into your allocated room you placed your bag on the bed. Pulling out your hoodie you slid it on heading back downstairs.

Coming out of the door, you bumped into someone, “Oh shit sorry Stevi- oh,” you spoke, meeting the eyes of a metal head.

“Watch yourself Sweetheart.” Walking away from him you began your decent on the stairs.

“Not talking to me today?” he asked.

“Ha, you’re funny,” you spoke, sarcasm lacing your tone. “Oh yeah, why’s that?” Stopping on a step and turning to him, “Why the hell would I waste my time?”

“Come on Sweetheart don’t be like that!”

“Jesus christ Eddie can you just shut up for one fucking second. I get you don’t like me, but I’m not here for you I’m here for our friends, so get your head out your house.”

His face went still, the playful glimmer leaving his eyes and jaw clenching. “I was teasing, maybe you should stop being such a bitch for once in your life,” he snarled, stomping past you.

As you said - asshole.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Woah, you okay Eddie?” Dustin asked him.

“Princess’ got an issue today,” he rolled his eyes, sighing. “Let’s be honest, you’re not the nicest to her,” Steve spoke up, pulling a can of cola from the fridge for the boy.

“Doesn’t mean she gets to-”

“Eddie I’m telling you this as your friend, you insult that girl in front of my and I’ll break your nose,” Steve spoke, popping the tab and sliding the can to him.

The boy sighed again, taking a gulp of the drink. “Not everyone ends up liking each other and being friends Eddie, don’t take it personally,” Dustin tried to comfort him.

“I wouldn’t want to be her friend.”

“Well lucky me, cause that’s the last thing I want,” you spoke, appearing in the kitchen, making all three of them jump. Eddie almost seemed to wince when he saw you.

“ I get you don’t like me, but do not come in here and speak badly of me to MY friends. You have an issue I get that, you are rude and mean to me all the time and I don’t have a clue why, honestly I don’t care,” you took a breath.

“But do not, speak badly of me to my friends. I would have happily been buds with you, but you don’t want that clearly, every time I’ve been nice you’ve been cruel. Maybe grow up Eddie, fucking asshole,” you spoke.

After he left you on the stairs, you’d turned around and grabbed the bag. You couldn’t do this, even for Steve, you didn’t want to ruin the night with that horrible tension and simmering bitterness.

Turning on your heal you left the house heading to your car, heading your name called behind you. “I’m sorry Steve, just have a good night. I call you tomorrow and me, you and Robs can do something okay.” Kissing his cheek, you climbed in and headed off.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You didn’t drive home, you felt many things. Angry. Upset. Tired. You never had a solid reason why he didn’t like you and you know, like Dustin said, not everyone gets along. But he got along with everyone else - why not you?

You car clunked. Shit. Could this day be any more shit? It was getting dark too. You had no signal. And you were down a creepy side road. You were dead, that was simple.

Heading to the front of your car, you opened your car up. Smoke flooding your lungs. Well shit, you weren’t bad with cars, but you weren’t a magician. This definitely needed a mechanic.

Looking around you knew where you were, but the walk was far and it wasn’t that safe. You climbed back into the car, placing your head on the steering wheel. All you could do was wait here for now and hope that someone drove passed (preferably not a murderer) or sleep there until morning (and didn’t get killed).

Thank god for your hoodie, Autumn was rolling in quickly this year. Only a few days into September and it was sending a chills all over you - that could also be fear. If a light flickered, you’d vomit on the spot.

You sighed, well you’d better get comfy for now. The sunset was a beautiful sight, but also scary and you wished it would stop.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You’d been there for a while now, not wanting to waste your gas. It was cold and dark, and you could cry.

The car filled with light, looking behind you, a vehicle drove down the road. Squinting, you tried to make out what it was - a van. Oh shit, yes definitely dead.

Panicking, you tried to start the car again. No use. The lights of the van remained on, but the door of it slammed. Throwing yourself out of the car, you saw the large figure coming towards you.

Attempting to walk as quickly as you could without sprinting, you heading down the road and away from whoever it was. “Hey!” you heard a voice, but continued on your way.

Gravel crushed under two sets of feet, one moving alarmingly quick now. Hands gripped your shoulders and you screamed, squirming to get away. “Hey hey! Sweetheart calm down!” The voice said loudly now.

Shoving away from the person you almost cried out, “Eddie? What the hell?”

“Are you okay?” he asked, hands visible to you, as if you were a scarred animal. “Oh yeah, minus the minor heart attack I’m great.”

“What are you doing out here?”

“My car broke down,” you sighed.

“Have you been here since you left Steve’s.”

“Pretty much.”

“Sweetheart you left 5 hours ago, people are worried.”

“What?” you asked, “Why would anyone be worried?”

“Well …,” he began.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Steve walked back into the kitchen, hand running through his hair. “What is your issue with her?” he snapped at Eddie, unable to ignore the behaviour anymore.

“I don’t have an issue! She’s just not my type of person!”

“Not your type of person, she’s everyone’s type of person. She’s sweet and kind and just lovely.”

“She’s you best friend, you’d think that!”

“So what you just hate her for no reason?”

“I don’t hate her!”

“Then why do you behave the way you do?”

“He likes her,” Dustin spoke up, munching on a potato chip. The older boys turned and looked at her. “W-what?” Eddie asked.

“You can deny it all you want, but you’re acting like most young boys do when they like people. Tease them, which in all honesty is so stupid.”

“Is it true? Do you like her?” Steve asked.

“N-no! I wouldn’t! I wouldn’t do that to you!”

“Do what to me?” Steve asked cocking his head, purely confused. “S-she’s your girl.”

“Yeah my best friend. But she’s not my girl in a romantic sense. That’s gross, we’ve know each other forever, she’s basically my sister.”

“What?” Eddie asked, not really a question.

“God you’re stupid. Go after her,” Dustin sighed. “Henderson’s right, go,” Steve spoke. Eddie nodded, running out of the house and to his van.

Driving to your home he was confused not to see you car there, but knocked the door none the less. Pulled open, he came face to face with your mother. “Oh hello, can I help you?” No judgement at all - that wasn’t common.

“Hi, I’m Eddie. I’m a uh … friend of your daughters. I was just wondering if she was home?”

“Sorry Honey, she’s staying at a friends tonight. I can get her to call you when she’s home,” she smiled at him softly.

“Thank you,” he nodded, raising a hand in goodbye, heading back to his car. “Where are you Sweetheart?” He mumbled to himself.

Deciding that heading back to Steve’s was the best option, to see if she’d cooled off and gone back. He panicked when he saw the absence of your car, Steve would know where you’d go.

Running in the house, he didn’t even bother to knock, calling out for your bestfriend. “You’re back?” he questioned.

“If she wasn’t home where would she be?”

“She’s not home?”

“No,” the metal head sighed.

“Shit.”

“Yeah shit.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“We’ve been looking for you for hours Sweetheart.”

“I didn’t mean to worry anyone, I just didn’t want to walk in the dark.”

“You’re lucky it was me who found you.”

“I know.”

“Seriously you could have been hurt, why didn’t you go home?”

“Because I needed to clear my head!”

“So you come to somewhere unsafe.”

“I was passing through! Why are you so bothered?” you almost shouted at him.

“Because I’d never forgive myself if you got hurt because of me!”

“Why?”

“How can you not know?”

“Know what?”

“I like you! For fuck sake! This is what all of this has been about. I thought you were with Steve and I’d rather you be happy with him and hate me then be nice and let me fall in love with you,” he said in one breath.

“Wha-“

“I know it’s stupid and childish, but I don’t really know how to talk to girls I like! And I panicked and I didn’t want Steve to hate me for liking his girlfriend.”

“‘M not his girlfriend.”

“I know that now.”

“You like me.”

“I do.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I am.”

“I’ve liked you since Middle School.”

“I kno- Wait what?”

“You heard me. Now can you help me with my car because I am freezing.”

“Oh uhh yeah sure. I can get my Uncle to call his buddy to tow it to the shop.”

“Thank you Eddie.”

You headed back to your cars, side by side. “You really like me?” he asked.

“I do. You’d know that if you got to know me.”

“Yeah I guess so.”

“You can make it up to me.”

“How so?” You smiled slightly, then linked your fingers through his ring covered ones. “Take me on a date Munson.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

A/N : I hope you enjoyed this request it was really fun to do more jealous Eddie, but I had to make it happy in the end.

I am having major writes block so if you have any ideas of requests or stuff let me know. I’m currently back in my criminal mind phase so if you’d be interested in fics about the guys from that (-mainly spencer lmao) let me know 🤍

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍

[scoops-aboy86]

I Want To (Secret Admirer pt 8)

Finally got to the "drunken confessions" part of day 6's prompt!

wc: 4103 / rated: T / set after season 3 / also on ao3

Eddie’s van has always been a piece of shit, but she’s his piece of shit. Even when she breaks down halfway between the Hideout and Gareth’s house, necessitating a rescue from Gareth’s mom in her station wagon so they can get all of their equipment out before the tow truck arrives. Even when it means he has to really lean hard into dealing so he can come up with the money to pay for repairs. 

Even when it cuts into his writing-to-and-recording-things-for-Steve time. But he had managed to get the tape of Steve’s favorite songs recorded and sent off, finally—no easy feat, since he’d had to learn most of the songs from scratch for this tape. Could’ve done without the Tears for Fears and Wham!, and he’d listened to way too much pop radio in order to get decent recordings to study… but he’d been pleasantly surprised by the request for Queen. He already owned some of their albums. 

Didn’t peg you for a Queen fan, sweetheart, but if anything it makes me even more smitten with you. Quick question though… Stayin’ Alive by the Bee Gees? Is that a nostalgia thing or is there a story there?

Anyway, while poor ol’ Shelob is sitting in the lot behind Thatcher Tires, the guys have helped by keeping their ears to the ground about parties for him to hit up. Jeff is even coming with him to this one, not to help directly but enough of a known associate that he’ll act as a passive form of advertisement, letting interested partygoers know that Eddie has set up shop in the walk-in pantry just off the kitchen. 

And it’s working. He’s basically sold out when someone comes over while he’s got his head down, counting his take so far, and asks, “Hey man, do you still have any weed left?”

Eddie freezes—just for a second. He hasn’t had much direct contact with Steve over the years because it was always Tommy who did the buying, back when the Harrington house was party central. But he’d recognize that voice anywhere. 

He looks up, determined not to fall into those warm hazel eyes, biting the insides of his cheeks hard in an effort to will away the flush that wants to rise in his face. 

“Yeah, sure,” Eddie lies. He has some he’d squirreled away for himself, but whatever. Steve can have it. Can have everything. 

Don’t think about the letter he’d written back to Steve, answering in detail what all two guys can do together. That way madness lies. The kind of madness where he offers Steve something else by way of just dropping to his knees right here in Melissa Sarby’s kitchen pantry. 

Steve grins—he grins at him! And pulls his wallet from his back pocket. Eddie has never been more jealous of a folded rectangle of leather in his life. “Great, how much?”

Eddie tells him the amount and names his price, steeply discounted compared to how much he’s charged everyone else tonight. He can’t get over how good Steve looks, for all that he’s moving a little stiffly, subtly babying his healing ribs beneath a short-sleeved button-up shirt. He’s also wearing, Eddie realizes, fucking makeup to disguise the fading black eye. It’s good work, probably Robin’s. (Jealous again, even though he believes Steve about the platonic thing. It’s just, why stop at envying a wallet, right?) And the shorts he’s wearing… Those cannot be the grandpa shorts he’d written about, hugging his ass in all the right places. Meanwhile, Eddie’s jeans are more hole than denim and his Iron Maiden shirt is the one with the bleach stain and the sides cut down to practically his waistband because it was hot as shit today. It’s still warm, even after dark. 

But wait. Wait. 

Did Steve, still recuperating from his injuries, get dressed and made up just to try and track down an opportunity to switch from painkillers to sweet Mary Jane? Or because, like he’d mentioned that one time, he associates the smell with his secret admirer and is seeking it out as a self-soothing thing? Or did he… Does he know? Did he come to this for Eddie, somehow?

Whatever Steve’s reason for being here, it makes Eddie sweat, but he’s also grateful just to, like, bask. He’s seized by a sudden urge to come clean, to look Steve in the eye and reveal himself as the author of those letters, call him sweetheart or baby or big boy to his face—

“Maybe I’ll see you around the party,” Steve says casually. And maybe Eddie is crazy, or hopeful, or way too in love with the unattainable, but he could swear he hears the last word lifting a little, almost like a question.

Eddie nods his head, says, “Sure.”

And well. Damn. Does Steve know? Is that why he’s kinda sorta asking if Eddie is going to stick around? Or is this just Steve being friendly, because he’s a good dude now?

Either way, even though Eddie’s stock is basically cleared out, now he wants to stay. Which is not to say that he isn’t vibrating out of his shoes with nerves. After Steve exits the pantry, Eddie slips out and helps himself to a couple shots of whatever’s closest on his way through the kitchen—because it’s not like he can smoke his anxiety away anymore, Jesus H. Christ. 

But Steve called him brave, and goddammit if this isn’t an opportunity to seize the day, stare down the barrel of a gun, pee into the wind. He can be brave, right? If he can’t, he might never find out if anything is ever going to happen for real, if they could ever be something, and then the regret will eat away at him for the rest of his cowardly life. 

“Hey man,” Jeff calls when he sees Eddie, threading through the sticky crowd to meet him. “Ready to go?” 

Which is code for: it’s hot and sticky in here and the music sucks, let’s leave. And while all of that is definitely true…

“I think I’m going to stick around a bit,” Eddie says, and holds up his metal lunchbox, waggling it a little. He just hopes his voice isn’t doing anything noticeably weird, either from nerves or the recently downed mystery booze. (He hadn’t taken the time to look at the bottle properly. Definitely hadn’t bothered to taste it.) “If you’re heading out, though, you mind looking after the Shelob Get Well fund for me?”

Jeff shrugs and takes it. “Okay man. Better you than me.”

He’s a good friend. Eddie appreciates him for not asking questions, though that might just be tabled for later. And sure, Jeff was also his ride home, but whatever. He can get home on his own power even without wheels. That’s what legs are for. 

~

Eddie spends the next hour or two cycling between getting his nerve up to approach Steve then abruptly losing it and revisiting the kitchen for more liquid fortification. Every time he spots Steve in the crowd again, he isn’t doing anything in particular—hanging back against the wall and people watching, or drifting by the party snacks, or occasionally chatting with some of the incoming seniors that he must know from the sports teams he’d been on last year. It doesn’t seem like Steve is in any rush to leave, though, so there’s still time for Eddie to prove to himself that yes, he can be brave. 

But after seeing one of the cheerleaders latch onto Steve’s arm, Eddie does another u-turn. The millionth fucking one, probably. This time after getting a refill, he decides to investigate the music situation, see if there are any non-shit options, not even going to fuck with it, probably… It’s very unlikely that he’d intentionally dump his current cup of punch on the tape player just to protect his unhappy ears, cross his heart and swear to Van Halen. 

But no, instead: betrayal. Because his stupid legs have carried him too far from the edges of the room, too close to the dancing, fucked up masses in the middle of the living-room-slash-dance-floor, and he gets sucked in. Holding his cup up high over people’s heads—because he’d rather dump punch that somehow tastes stronger than straight liquor on their heads than splash it on their chests, apparently. Eddie tries to muscle through, resigning himself to a wobbly straight-shot across the room instead, but it’s only a matter of time until someone hip-checks him into some poor bastard.

When it does happen, whoever it is at least has the coordination to catch his drink before it spills. Eddie swallows hard at the sensation of a big hand wrapped around his hand on the cup, and brings his gaze around to meet warm hazel eyes. 

“Woah there,” says Steve fucking Harrington, looking a little worse for wear from sweating through his foundation. Or maybe Eddie is just way too close for his own safety and knows what to look for. 

“Talkin’ to me like I’m a horse?” Eddie blusters, trying to sway back before he gets caught in Steve’s gravity like he wants to. “Bold.”

Maybe it’s the whole room that’s swaying. Maybe he overdid it a bit. Shit, why had he stayed at this terrible party again? Steve, and free booze, but, like… now Steve is here. 

Looking at him. Evaluating. And, after a second, gently guiding him back out of the throng. “Maybe,” Steve replies near his ear while they move. “I’m going to lead you to water and try to make you drink, so I guess we’ll see.”

They make it to the bathroom just as Eddie’s churning stomach decides to make a run for it in earnest. He ends up bent over the sink, sparing maybe a tiny fraction of a thought towards the fact that at least what’s coming up is mostly liquid, shouldn’t clog anything—the rest of his half-offline brain power is going towards not reacting to Steve holding his hair back for him. He can feel fingertips on his scalp, and they might as well be the only things keeping him upright. 

Goddamn traitor legs. 

The next thing Eddie knows, he’s sitting on the closed toilet lid and Steve is pressing the cup back into his hand, rinsed out and full of water now. He raises it to gulp, some of the liquid sloshing out the sides to run down his neck, feels good…

“Hey, slow down man,” Steve says, taking the cup back and leaving Eddie to gasp at the reintroduction of air. “You’re gonna hurl again if you drink too fast.” 

“S’nothin’ left,” he mumbles. Steve is so close… He told Steve that he’s a guy, didn’t he? So it’d be okay if… Oh, but he hadn’t told Steve that he’s him, Eddie. So maybe it wouldn’t be okay. Maybe if he kissed Steve, Steve would think he cheated on his secret admirer, like Lois Lane cheating on Superman with Clark Kent. The idea makes Eddie start to giggle. 

Steve smiles back at him. “What? You figured out you’re not a horse ‘cause I could make you drink?” 

That makes him snort after a moment, because it’s such a dumb joke but also it took him so long to get it. Eddie might have to kiss him anyway. 

He should rinse his mouth first. 

“Nooo,” he drawls, rising up and putting a hand on one of Steve’s several shoulders to steady himself. “I just gotta.” That’s it, right? Yeah, that’s a complete enough sentence. Onward. 

“Where are you going?” Steve asks. He trails after Eddie’s beeline for the sink, grabbing for Eddie’s curls again when he dips to stick his mouth under the faucet. “Hey, don’t drown yourself, man!”

“I’m rinsing,” Eddie retorts, but it gets lost in the stream of water. He swirls and spits a few times, then straightens up and emphasizes again, “Rinsing.” And then he leans into the other man’s touch, because he can’t help himself. Steve is so close and, holy shit. Actually touching him, which has never happened before tonight, and he’s only ever caught whiffs of Steve’s cologne from a distance but it is intoxicating. 

Or… maybe he’s just way drunker than he meant to get. Oops. 

Oh well. 

“How’s my breath now, baby?” he asks shamelessly, dipping closer. Lets his voice drop low and rumbling, and could swear he sees some heat rise to Steve’s less-makeuped cheek. 

“Could definitely be worse,” Steve replies diplomatically. He puts a hand on Eddie’s hip though, like he’s afraid he might fall over without it, and that makes Eddie feel less inclined to pout—because god, those hands. They’re so big, he wants to roll around in them. “Did you drive here?”

“Hm?” Eddie flutters his eyes back open, not totally sure when he’d closed them. He’d been thinking about Steve’s hands. Absently starting to compose a letter about what he’d like to feel them do in his head, out of habit. “No… Had a ride here, was gonna walk home.”

Steve hesitates, then offers, “I could give you a ride, if you can give me directions.”

“A trade,” Eddie murmurs. “You’ve caught my interest, Sir Steve.” As if he didn’t have it already, permanently. With a vague after you gesture, Eddie nudges Steve with his hip in the direction of the door. “To your noble steed, then! For the last child of Ungoliant to trouble the unhappy world has retreated to her lair in Cirith Munson till such time as she can be healed.”

“I have no idea what that means, dude,” Steve says. But he’s got a little grin on his face like he’s not put off by the blatant nerdery, and the hand still on Eddie’s hip guides him along with him with minimal fuss. 

“Sssssecretsss,” Eddie hisses back with a lopsided smirk, because he’s a little freak and Steve might as well see that up close. 

Tomorrow he’ll be mortified, but that’s Tomorrow Eddie’s problem. Right now is Drunk Eddie’s time.

He sinks gratefully into a comfy passenger seat in Steve’s beemer, no weird lumps or stray pokey springs like in his van or any of his friends’ (parents’) cars. Blinks slowly up at Steve while the man buckles him in place, head lolling a little to catch sight of the two moles on his neck, just beneath his jaw, that look like a vampire bite. Licks his lips and rests his eyes for a moment while the world spins lazily around him, then opens them again when the car starts and the radio comes on. 

“Boooo,” he heckles once processed that it’s one of those pop stations he’d been listening way too much lately. Which he’d done for Steve, and this is Steve’s car, but he’d also been suffering through this crap at full volume for days to learn to play it, so it’s not like he’s being unreasonable. “Change stations, Stevie, I’m not—I can’t take it anymore. I’ll puke the blood that’s leaking down from my ears, you don’t want that in your fancy car.”

“Don’t joke about that, man,” Steve replies, but reaches over willingly enough to turn the volume down to almost nothing. “So, where to?”

Eddie mutters directions and promises to flap his hand in the right direction whenever they get to intersections, since he’s sure Steve has never been to the Forest Hills trailer park before. But when he points out turns, it always seems like Steve is already taking them. He turns in the passenger seat to squint at him, the turn signal clicking maddeningly against his eardrums every single time Steve puts it on. 

“How come you know where I live?” 

“I don’t?” Steve glances at him, then back at the road. “I’ve lived in Hawkins my whole life. It’s not exactly big, I know where the trailer park is.”

Eddie stares at him for another minute. He watches the street lights shine on Steve’s face, casting shadows, making him look ethereal at times and unknowable in others, sometimes both. And fuck, he wants. 

But it’s Steve Harrington. They’re in Steve Harrington’s fancy car, barreling towards the moment when Eddie clambers out and says goodnight—maybe not in that order, he doesn’t know yet, but it’s going to happen either way. How many girls has Steve dropped off in this car at the end of a date? 

It doesn’t matter, because they weren’t on a date. Steve had held his hair back while he threw up and is giving him a ride home because he’s a nice guy. Steve… doesn’t know they’ve been exchanging love letters all summer. 

“I need something to listen to,” Eddie blurts out, leaning forward to turn the volume back up and switching over to whatever tape is in. “Let’s see what local white knight Steve Harrington listens to in his spare time, shall we?”

“Oh, uh, I don’t—”

There’s a click and a whir, and the tape starts up in the middle of an acoustic cover of Queen’s ‘I Want To Break Free.’ 

Of Eddie’s acoustic cover, and the sound of his own humming that makes him drunkenly wonder, Is that really what I sound like?

Steve has been listening to the most recent tape he sent him in the car. Eddie can feel his eyes going the size of dinner plates—there hasn’t even been time to get a letter back about it, he sent it that recently. His chest fills up with fizz and nerves because maybe Steve was listening to it on the way to the party, and if so what does that mean? 

He doesn’t move a muscle, barely even breathes, and Steve seems similarly quiet in the driver’s seat next to him. And suddenly (because Steve’s right, Hawkins isn’t a big place, it never takes all that long to get from point A to point B) they’re pulling into the trailer park and Eddie is gesturing stiffly to which trailer is his. 

The car pulls to a stop and Eddie… doesn’t move. His tape is still playing, that one about being head over heels now. 

I’d let you fight my battles too, at least until my ribs get back to normal and then we can both fight both of our battles. You know I’d do that for you, right? If you ever need me. I really like these letters. I really like you.

Love, Steve

… Fuck it. That love is still caught in his heart, pumping the sweetness of it through his arteries and veins with every beat, and he’s dizzy with booze and wanting. 

Eddie turns towards Steve, fumbling to unbuckle his seat belt as an afterthought, half climbing over the middle divider to get even a fraction of how close he wants to be. Hears Steve’s soft intake of breath while he leans in, reaching to cradle the back of his head instead of his left cheek in case that might hurt (because he may be drunk off his ass but he remembers, okay, doesn’t want to hurt his sweetheart) and kisses him. 

Soft at first, the barest hint of trying to be chaste, but one taste could never be enough. The rest of the world is white fucking noise as Eddie licks his way inside Steve’s easily parting lips, seals them together, steals the breath right out of his lungs with the perfect way they slot together. He’s shaking with it, drunk and stupid and floating and Steve’s hands are in his hair again for a much, much better reason this time, kissing and being kissed back. 

~

“Let’s see what local white knight Steve Harrington listens to in his spare time, shall we?”

Steve’s heart jumps into his throat, realizing what Eddie is about to do. “Oh, uh, I don’t—”

For as drunk as he is, Eddie is fast. Too fast for Steve to come up with some excuse for stopping him, and then the evidence of the tape he’d used to psyche himself up for the party floods the car, because… Well, the latest letter was still filling his head, all the ways Eddie had promised he could be good with his hands, and the soothing sounds of guitar and Eddie’s voice kept him at pleasantly equal levels of calm and stirred up. 

He expects Eddie, loose tongued as he is, to say something. Take the opportunity to reveal himself finally and offer some lighthearted quip about their different tastes in music again. Steve, heart still in his throat, wants that, because he’s never been one for hesitating to rip off the band-aid.

This thing between them, the softness and hope of it, is the only thing that’s kept Steve afloat since he’d had to admit to his parents that he’d lost his car keys. He’d written to Secret Admirer—to Eddie—about it, of course, but he might have… minimized a bit. Mentioned them calling him irresponsible, and some of the emotional hoops they’d made him jump through before agreeing to arrange for replacements, but he’d left some things unsaid. 

Like, how he knows how to get a copy of a key made but that requires, you know, something to copy! His parents had kept all the spares when they gave him the car, even though it’s his name on the title—a detail which makes him seem like a spoiled brat if he complains, but he’s always felt like that was calculated. And how he had no idea how to get a new car key made from scratch, and still doesn’t because they hadn’t explained it, just done it.

Or the way he’d been so apathetic for days after that series of phone calls that Robin had offered part of her savings to help him get his own place. “A loan,” she’d explained. “Anything to get you out from under those people’s thumbs, Steve, they’re horrible human beings. They didn’t call back about you having a concussion but they called immediately after getting your message about some stupid keys? That’s the most fucked up thing I’ve ever heard about, way worse than a giant spider monster made of melted people!”

Steve just. He needs a win right now. He needs some sort of reassurance that Robin isn’t a one-off good thing in his life. If he and Eddie could just get on the same page and stop pretending that they didn’t both want to kiss each other…

Because he’s been pretending all night, ever since the moment he’d seen Eddie in person for the first time since only half-noticing him in school. Watched him for a while while there were still people crowded around, knowing that it might mean there’d be nothing left to buy by the time he approached and then maybe they’d end up talking. Hadn’t happened, sadly, so he’d stuck around—and damn, he’s glad he did. It seemed like every time he’d caught a glimpse of the man after that he had a new drink in hand, and by the time he herded Eddie into the bathroom his eyes were so unfocused that Steve wasn’t sure he even recognized him until “You���ve caught my interest, Sir Steve.”

He’d wanted to say that the feeling was mutual, but hadn’t quite had the nerve. 

But now Steve is driving in a cold sweat because they’re listening to Eddie’s tape and Eddie himself is stock-still to his right. 

And look, all he’s hoping for at this point is to get Eddie home safely, maybe strike up a conversation as he’s helping the guy inside or whatever Eddie needs, whatever he can get away with. Being able to touch him at the party had given him goosebumps despite the summer heat in general and the thick, humid air inside the house. Selfishly, he wants more, but knows he needs to content himself with breadcrumbs until they make it to the real stuff, not wanting to give away how clingy he can be (if he hasn’t already in his letters). So when he pulls to a stop in front of Eddie’s trailer, he’s glad when Eddie doesn’t leap up and bolt immediately. 

The kiss catches Steve off guard. It’s so gentle and tentative at first, for all that Eddie just about threw himself across the car to initiate it. Just as quickly, it turns hungry, and it’s that hunger that has Steve readily opening, accepting, wanting right back. Eddie kisses him like he’s trying to leave a mark, and he does. A fierce and possessive blaze that’s totally separate from the burn of lingering alcohol, one that doesn’t start to hurt until it ends.

Tag list (ask to be added): @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve @steviewashere

@cryingglightningg @theresebelivett @sleepy-steve @rozzieroos @lunaraindrop

@just-my-latest-hyperfixation @wheneverfeasible @swimmingbirdrunningrock @yesdangerpls @matchingbatbites

@ihavekidneys @p0lybl4nkk @grtwdsmwhr @cheesedoctor @whalesharksart

@thetinymm @envyadams-vs-me @practicallybegging @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @dauntlessdiva

@nerdyglassescheeseychick @fuzzyduxk @chaosgremlinmunson @greatwerewolfbeliever @goosesister

@dolphincliffs @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @beckkthewreck @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao @kurofuckingshi16

@bookworm0690 @millseyes-world @live-laugh-love-dietrich @the-tenth-mus-e

[writer-in-theory]

inspired by a conversation i had with @serenity-lattes over a fic i'm writing

--

"Hey, Steve, why didn't you tell us you had a brother?"

There were a lot of things that Steve still didn't know about his family. He didn't know his great-grandparents moved to the United States from Italy until he had to do an ancestry project his senior year, and he'd just learned last week that there were others on his mother's side with hearing loss like him. Still, Steve knew that despite all the secrecy, there was no way he had a secret brother.

"I don't have a brother," Steve told Robin as much, coming back into the living room to see Robin and Eddie huddled over something. "What makes you think that?"

"Harrington, I think dear ol' dad's lying to you," Eddie teased, handing over the paper they were staring at.

Birth Certificate

This is to certify that Robert Steven Harrington Jr weighing 8 lbs. 13 oz. was born on the 13th day of December to Robert and Theresa Harrington in the year of 1967.

"How the hell did you find my birth certificate?" Steve balked, watching his best friend and boyfriend stare at him like he had two heads.

"Your birth certificate?" Robin repeated, eyes drifting back down to stare at the paper in his hands.

"Who else's would it be? Am I missing something?" It wasn't too uncommon for Steve to miss the joke, especially with people as quick-witted as Robin and Eddie. Still, this one seemed particularly confusing to even the others, with all three of them staring at each other in complete cluelessness.

"No, no, no," Eddie spoke up then, snatching the certificate out of Steve's hands and holding it up to the light like that might make reading it easier. "There is no way I'm dating a Robert."

Wait...

"You thought my legal name was Steve?"

Was that all this was? Steve didn't fully understand the big deal, especially since he'd never once gone by his legal first name. Even as a kid his parents were calling him Steven, eventually caving and calling him Steve as he wished by the time he entered middle school. He thought everyone had known by now, what with Tommy choosing to call him 'Robert' whenever he was upset with Steve.

"Why would I think anything else? Steven Harrington, how could you not tell me!" Robin shouted, playfully hitting his shoulder when all he did was laugh.

"Robert Harrington," Eddie corrected, immediately pulling a groan from his boyfriend.

"Uh uh, you're not calling me that," Steve decided, taking the certificate back and tucking it away in the drawer where they'd found it. Tomorrow he'd have to dig through the house and hide anything else he didn't want them to see, including any pictures his mother might have left lying around.

"How about Junior?" Robin tried, bursting into laughter at Eddie's responsive cackle. "I mean, who knew someone would go by a nickname of their middle name?

"Are you two done yet?" Steve groaned, tipping his head back to look at the ceiling.

"Aw, c'mon, Robbie, you love us." That was Eddie judging by the arm quickly slung over Steve's shoulders and the kiss planted firmly on his cheek. "I just can't believe you didn't tell us that Stevie isn't your name."

"Stevie has never been my name," Steve laughed, stepping away from Eddie's hug and laughing when the man's arms reached out to hold onto him tighter. "I'll take it over Robert."

"I knew you loved it, baby," Eddie teased, laughing at Steve's expression.

Then Steve grinned, turning to face Eddie so he could lean in close. Right as Eddie licked his lips in anticipation of a kiss, Steve patted his cheek and said, "Baby, you didn't even know my name."

He and Robin laughed until they could hardly breathe, but Eddie was the one laughing when he had the entire Party calling Steve "Rob" the next morning.

[justmeinadaze]

Aftercare: Roleplay (Steddie X You)

A/N: I am not ok 🫠 God this was fun to write lol Enjoy <3

Warnings: Dom Steddie and Sub reader, Stalker style role-play so rough language and smut, degradation, slapping, some knife play (they rip off her clothes, the don't cut her), dirty talk, choking, spanking, restraint, and of course wonderful aftercare with fluff near the end.

If this isn't your kind of thing dont continue to read! It is consensual and the reader does allow them permission to do this but the role-play is played out like it isn't. NOTE I would NEVER write a version of these boys who wouldn't stop if Y/N said the safe word.

Word Count:3304

“I will never understand why you guys like that crap.”, Steve whines as you three walk out of the theater.

“Oh, come on, Stevie. Scary movies just make you feel more alive you know?” You jump around them enthusiastically making them swoon. 

Since you three had started your relationship, they noticed a big difference in you; mostly you were a lot happier. Your smile rarely left your face especially when they came home from work. 

“This coming from the guy who put stalking her in his roleplay notes.”, Eddie chuckled. 

“Seriously, I was surprised when I read how turned on it made you.”

“Why?”

“I mean, you? Being all scary stalker intimidating? Eddie, oh yeah. But you, baby? You don’t even like the genre.”

“I feel challenged…”, Steve playfully glares at you as you guys make it to his car. 

“Maybe it is.”, you reply coyly. 

“Are we really doing this?”, Eddie claps. “Yay!”

“But you can see him scaring and intimidating you?” The boy chuckles as he points towards his friend. 

“What’s wrong, Daddy? Don’t think you can do it?” His whole posture changes as he stands to his full height. “I’ll make you both a deal. You have free reign to play out your little horror movie stalker fantasy anyway you see fit. No matter what you do or when you do it, I’ll play along.”

You were toying with him, trying to rile him up. You knew they could both be intimidating because you felt it when you dropped into your headspace. Hell, even when they weren’t being rough with you, the gentle aftercare had a power dynamic that made you feel small in a good way. If anyone even tried to hurt you, they would make them pay. 

That being said, imagining them turning that intimidation on you in this way, had your pussy clenching. You were desperate to feel the full force of what they could wield so you continued to poke the bear. 

“Honestly, though, I see myself laughing more than anything.”

Steve blinked down at you as his gorgeous smile began to fade, his jaw tightening in a way you had never seen before. His eyes locked with yours as he slowly stepped forward, knocking into you with his chest. You tried to plant your feet to keep him from moving you but he was too strong. You stumbled slightly till your back hit his car; both his arms gradually coming up to place his palms on either side of you blocking you from going anywhere. You swallowed nervously as his face leaned down to meet your own, biting your lip to hide the moan as his nose grazed your cheek. 

“I guess we’ll have to see won’t we, honey?”, he murmured in a gruff tone. Suddenly, he kissed your forehead, releasing you from his blockade as he opened the door for you with that signature Harrington smile. “Get in, babe. Let’s go home.”

#################

Two weeks had passed and nothing had happened. You thought maybe they had forgotten about it or after planning it decided they no longer wanted to play that game. You were slightly disappointed but didn’t want to push them into anything that may make them uncomfortable so you three continued your relationship like normal. 

Today had been a particularly rough day at work and you couldn’t wait to get home to relax with the boys. When you entered the apartment however, everything was silent. After looking at the stove clock, you gnawed your bottom lip in worry. It was after 9pm and even if Steve worked a late shift, they were both home by now. 

As soon as you picked up the cordless to dial Family Video and the record store to check on them, the phone came to life in your hand. 

“Hello?”

“Hey! Oh, shit. I think I dialed the wrong number.”

“Steve? What are you doing? Where are you guys?”

“Fuck. I already fucked this up. Eddie and I were going to do the stalker thing tonight. Jesus! Ed, I’m so sorry, man.”

You giggle when you hear Eddie grumble something at his friend. “It’s ok, Daddy. You guys can always try again.” The handle of the front door began to jiggle. “Did you forget your key?”

“What do you mean, babe?”

“You’re trying to come in, right?”

“No? Eddie and I in the car outside.” You freeze just as your hand reaches for the knob as it jiggles again. “Baby? Is someone trying to get in?!”

Loud pounding startles you as you shriek in surprise. 

“D-D-Daddy? Sir?”

Steve snickers as the banging gets louder, your heart pounding with fear. You’ve completely dropped in and they know it to. 

“IS someone trying to get in, little girl? I promise if you open the door now my friend and I will go easier on you.”

“I-I’m not afraid of you.”

“Hm but you will be. Now be a good girl and open the door.”

“No.”

“Your call.”

The phone abruptly disconnects as you drop it and run to your bedroom. The front door flies open as soon as you find a hiding space under your bed. Covering your mouth to stifle the fear in your throat, your eyes widen as you see two sets of boots wonder into the living room. 

“Where the fuck is she?”, Eddie growls. “Come on, pretty girl! Don’t make this harder than it has to be!”

“No, Ed. This is fun. Little girl wants to play hide and seek.” 

You watch as they split up to search for you starting with their own rooms before stalking towards yours. You hold your palm over your mouth tighter as you listen to them talk. 

“You really think she’s stupid enough to hide in here?”

“Of course, she is.” The bed dips down as Steve takes a seat. “God, I can’t wait to find her though. I’m going to fuck her so hard she won’t be able to walk straight for a week.”

“I love your ambition, Harrington. As long as I can cum down her throat, I’m happy.”

“Do you think we should let her cum to?”

“Oh of course. Sluts like her fucking grip your dick hard when they cum. It feels so fucking good.”, Eddie sighs in pleasure at the thought. “We won’t be able to do any of that until we find her though. Which actually reminds me…”

The boy abruptly drops on his heels, tilting his head to the side as he finds your frightened frame. “Hey, little one. I guess you’re right, Steve. She IS that stupid.”

You yelp as you feel hands roughly grab your ankles and pull you out from under the bed. Fingers yank back on your hair and lift you to your knees. “I don’t know why you even bother hiding, baby. You know one way or another we are going to take what’s ours. You just make it harder with all this foreplay.”

Eddie leans down, wrapping his hand around your throat as he smirks. “What’s the matter, little girl? I thought you said you were going to be laughing.”

He tugs you to your feet and you immediately push against him with your hands, trying to pull yourself free from his grasp. Your hand collides with his cheek and he responds by slapping you harder before throwing you onto the mattress. 

“Oh! Baby girl likes to play rough! We can do rough, honey.”

Steve unbuckles his belt and while Eddie holds your arms above your head, the other boy ties it around your wrists. You freeze when you feel cold steel touch you face. 

“Don’t. Move.”, the metalhead growls. 

He grabs your shirt aggressively in his fist as he cuts it and your pants off your body with the knife before passing it to Steve. Gripping your throat again, he slides his fingers between your folds into your dripping core. 

“I should have known you’d fucking enjoy this. No panties and you’re soaked…such a fucking whore.” Eddie releases your throat to lightly smack your face again. “Keep your legs open!”

Your eyes roll back as his fingers thrust into you at a fast pace as the sound of your slick fills the room. He abruptly pulls his digits out of your pussy, hitting you between your legs before rolling you on to your stomach. 

He pumps into you again, pushing three fingers in making you groan at the stretch. Steve kneels by your face and roughly yanks your hair. “Look at yourself.”, he commands as he points to your full-length mirror in the corner of your room. “Look at how much you’re enjoying this.”

Your eyes squeeze shut as you feel the coil about to snap but his hand aggressively pinches your cheeks as he shouts next to your face. “Open your fucking eyes and look! Watch yourself cum on his fucking fingers, you dirty slut! Allowing two strangers to take you so easily. You enjoy this don’t you? Tell me!”

“I-I like this…fuck… I’m…”

“That’s right, pretty girl. There you go.”, Eddie coos as he slaps your ass. Steve continues to grip your cheeks, holding your head towards the mirror as came.

Your head fell against the sheets, trying to catch your breath as Eddie climbed off the bed to remove his clothes. His friend rose to his feet, lifting your hips so your ass was in the air. The metalhead jumped back onto the mattress, spanking you again as he leaned down to spit into your cunt.

As he started to push himself inside you, you began to crawl away feeling overwhelmed by the intense pleasurable feeling of just his tip alone. 

“Where the fuck are you going?” Eddie’s hands roughly gripped your hips as he held you in place. “Stevie, you want to help me here?”

Steve grabbed your hair, sliding his jeans and boxers down his legs. 

“Open.”, he commands, tugging on your hair when you don’t comply. “Open your fucking mouth!” 

Eddie uses the distraction to sheath himself inside of you and as you gasp at the intrusion Steve shoves his cock in your mouth. 

“Why do you fight it, honey? You know you’re loving this, right, Ed?” The man smacks your behind and you moan around the other boy’s length. “Fuck that feels so fucking good.”

“Jesus, Y/N.”, Eddie grunts. His chest falls against your back as his hand grips your throat. “You like being used by us, don’t you? You tell us no but your pussy doesn’t fucking lie. You’re making a mess all over my cock right now.”

Steve holds your head against him as you gag; Eddie grinding his hips harder against yours. The man steps back as the metalhead tugs you to your knees against him, gripping your throat tighter. 

“Tell me, baby. Tell me you love way my cock feels.”

“I-I-I… fuck…I love the way…your cock feels.”

“Cum for me. Show me how much you love my dick tearing you open.” Your eyes shut as you throw your head back against his shoulder, tremble against him as you cum. “Good-Good girl. Now—mmm—get that pretty mouth ready because I’m going to…to cum down your throat and your… going to fucking swallow it like a good slut.”

He pushes your lower half back down against the bed, pumping into you roughly. Abruptly, he pulls out of you, flipping you on to your back, and straddles your face with his knees placed on either side. After shoving his cock into your mouth, he thrusts his hips till you feel his seed hit your tongue. “Swallow!” You flash him your tongue showing him you had done what he asked. 

As soon as he climbed off you, Steve tugged on your ankles bringing you closer to him. Your body twitches as he glides the head of his cock through your dripping folds, chuckling when you moan as he circles it around your clit. 

“Do you want my dick, baby?”

“Y-yes, please.”

He leans over your fucked out frame and smacks your face before gripping it between his fingers. “I can’t fucking hear you, little girl. Louder.”

“Yes, Steve, please!”

A cocky smile spread along his lips as he breaches your entrance. True to his word, he thrust into you at an almost animalist pace, hitting every sensitive spot inside you and then some having you see stars. 

His chest fell to yours as sloppily kissed your lips, continuing to roll his hips into yours. 

“This pussy belongs to us. No one else can fucking have you.”

You whimpered when you felt the belt on your wrists tighten and the cold steel of the knife brush against your cheek. 

“Because if anyone else even tries to take you away from us, we’ll make them regret it.”, Eddie grins as he hovers over your face before kissing your lips as well. 

Steve pushes up on his hands as he pounds into you harder, feeling your pussy clench around him. Your back arches and the metalhead quickly covers your mouth with his palm as you cum harder than you ever had before.

A sarcastic smirk flickered across his face as his forehead fell against yours. “Beg me to cum inside you, honey.”

“Pl-please, cum inside of me.”

His fingers come to wrap around your throat again as his eyes penetrate yours angrily. “Make me believe it, little girl.”

“Please, Steve. I-I-I want you to fill me up. I need it, PLEASE!”

Steve’s eyes closed as he released you, his head falling to the side as his thrusts became sloppier and you felt him warm your insides. 

Your eyes shut as you nestled your nose against into his hair. Hands gently held your arms as they removed the belt from around your wrist. Lips tenderly kissed their way up your limbs to your shoulder before Eddie’s much softer voice filled your ear. 

“You did so well, sweetheart. Our beautiful girl. There’s no rush here. Take your time and whenever you’re ready we’re going to take a bath, ok?”

“Can I…have some water?”, you ask in hoarse voice. 

“Yeah, baby. Of course. I’ll be right back.”

You wince as you feel Steve pull out of you, rolling to your side as he props himself on his elbow and delicately brushes some stray hairs out of your damp, sweaty face.

“Did I convince you that I could be ‘scary stalker intimidating’?”

You giggle as your eyes open to meet his. “Yeah, you did. You BOTH surprised me actually.”

“Alright, sweetheart. Sit up and drink this.”

They held on to you as you shakily raised yourself to a seated position. “Can, um, would you mind…”

Eddie smiles as he brings the bottle to your lips and slowly tips it back. As soon as you finish, he passes the rest to his friend who chugs it back before placing it on your bedside table.

“I’m ready for that bath now.”

“Good cause you smell.”, he teases as you laugh at him. 

Steve grins as he runs ahead of you both to get it ready. Eddie lifts you into his arms and you keen into his neck as you both wait. The man lowers you in carefully before they join you and you happily sigh as they clean your aching body. 

You notice someone is lingering at your wrists a while and turn to find the metalhead massaging the imprints the belt had left in your skin. 

“Did you like it, Y/N? We were a little nervous when planning this because we didn’t want to trigger something for you by hitting you too hard or anything.”

“We figured though you would use the safe word if you were uncomfortable.”, Steve follows as he leans back against the porcelain. 

“Yeah, no, I liked it a lot. I think what helped push me there was thinking Harrington actually fucked up.” You laugh as they chuckle along with you. “Um, I, thank you for…hearing me about…not being too violent. If you had tried to cut me, I probably would have used the safe word.”

“Honey, you don’t have to thank us for something like that.”

“And we would never hurt you like that. We aren’t really into that kind of thing either. We thought about using a fake knife but we thought it added to the scene if we could tear off your clothes which, by the way, I will buy you a new outfit tomorrow.”

“Oh, Eddie, baby. You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t HAVE to. I want to.” You beam up at him as you kiss his cheek. 

“Did you two like it? Stevie?”

“I did. I…like watching you…submit to me. To us.” 

A shaky moan leaves your chest at his words. “Yeah? What else did you like?”

“I loved feeling your pussy drip all over me.”, Eddie whispers in your ear.

Your finger glide between your legs as you rub them against your clit.

“I still love the way those big, beautiful eyes look up at me when I fuck you.” Steve leans forward till his nose grazes yours. 

“Oh and that little voice you like so much, man. Hearing you tell me you love the way my cock splits you open…”

“That’s right, Ed. The precious, tiny, submissive voice reminding us that she knows what’s ours.”

Steve replaces your fingers with his thumb as he plays with your nub while Eddie sucks on your neck. 

“Who does your pussy belong to, baby?”

“Fuck…you two. M-my pussy and body are yours.” Your breath hit his lips as you pant out moans. “I love you both so much.”

He leans forward, connecting his mouth with your own as you came. One of your arms reached up to wrap around the other boy’s neck as you pulled his lips to your own. 

Steve rose to his feet bringing you with him as Eddie followed. He ran the towel obnoxiously through your hair making you laugh as he smiled down at your gorgeous face. “I love you to, honey. Did you want to watch a movie tonight? Maybe something light.”

“That’s no fun.”, Eddie grinned as he pushed his old high school Hellfire shirt over your head and you held onto his shoulders as you stepped into your panties. “We also bought some quick made meals for tonight so you don’t have to wait too long for dinner.”

“Good because I’m starving.” 

The boy kisses your forehead starting to head for the kitchen before he pauses and turns back to kiss your lips. “I love you to.”, he chuckles as he runs off to complete his task. 

Steve picks you up and places you on the couch. 

“How about Back to the Future?”, you ask and he smiles at your suggestion. 

Eddie jumps over the back of the couch and hands you a bowl of microwavable food they know you like. Thanking him, you sling your legs over his lap as Steve comes to sit beside you so you can lean against him. Halfway through the movie, the metalhead lays down and hugs your legs to his chest as you play with his hair. Laughing when you hear soft snores, you turn to Steve so you both could tease him only to find he had fallen asleep to. His arm was draped over your chest as his head hung back over the sofa. 

You felt like you wanted to cry as ran your hands delicately over them both. You had spent most of your dating life in and out of awful relationships. How had you been so blinded to the two men right in front of you? 

Smiling to yourself, you closed your eyes and fell asleep in their embrace wishing you could pause this moment so the three of you could stay like this forever.

[elvenisms]

friday —; s.h.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader [3.5k]

summary: Robin orchestrates the best (and worst) Valentine's Day of your life.

cw: angst, fluff, cursing, no use of y/n, steve is an idiot (per usual), reader cries a lot (relatable), happy ending.

author's note: i got carried away with this, ngl. proof that i cannot write anything fluffy without angst. enjoy!

masterlist

It was Thursday.

Thursdays were good days. You didn’t work, giving you some well-needed rest from wearing that stupid vest, rewinding tapes, and dealing with late returns. You could throw on a movie you’d been meaning to watch for weeks, invite some friends over, and veg out. You could go see a show at The Hideout, if someone interesting was playing. Sometimes, Thursday was laundry day. But today wasn’t any Thursday.

Today was Thursday, February 13th, 1986. The day before Valentine’s Day.

“Vickie and I are going to do something, we just don’t know what.” Robin pushed her lips together, toying with a loose piece of thread on your couch. “I mean, obviously we’ll have a little date during the day, but we thought a group thing would be fun, ya’ know?”

Eddie had come over to watch Day of the Dead with you that day, and when Robin got off work, she called to see what you were up to. “Hanging out with Eds, pretending Valentine’s Day doesn’t exist.” You’d quipped, which is precisely how she ended up in your house, talking about Valentine’s Day.

“As much as I’d love to third-wheel,” Eddie stretched. “I’m going to see a show. Some new guys, but I heard they’re good.”

“Yeah, I’m…” You wracked your brain for something you had to do, trying to get out of it, just as Eddie had. “I’m, uh, working. And then… Oh, I told Max I’d help her study? Some test she has. Science, I think.”

Eddie and Robin both eyed you judgmentally. It was entirely unconvincing, and also a lie. The Max part, anyway.

“Oh, give me a break,” You grunted, their faces saying enough. “I already told you, Rob, tomorrow is just Friday as far as I’m concerned.”

“But you don’t want it to just be Friday,” She remarked. “You want it to be Valentine’s Day, but you’re lonely.”

A huff of air came through Eddie’s nose, trying not to laugh at her well-meaning bluntness. You gave him a sour look, and he quickly dropped it.

“Thank you for reminding me,” You muttered, leaning forward to pick up some empty beer bottles from the table, carrying them to the trash can in the kitchen.

You weren’t actually mad, not at Robin. You were frustrated with the fact that you cared about some stupid holiday, that you couldn’t just be like Eddie, who genuinely didn’t give a shit. Unwilling to admit it to yourself, you were also mad that every guy in Hawkins you’d gone out with was a total disaster; Matthew Campbell probably couldn’t tie a shoelace if you asked him to, and you told him that, so you didn’t suspect he’d be knocking on your door tomorrow.

You waltzed back into the living room to your unsuspecting victims, now on a tirade you’d created in your own head. “It’s not my fault that there is no one in this town for me, okay? I’ve officially given up. I’m tired of putting on makeup, going to Enzo’s, and making awful small talk, for which the reward is a lackluster trip to second base in the back of a ca—”

Robin gasped as if she’d seen a ghost. Your rant halted, staring at her, and she looked back with wide eyes, jaw agape. “How have I never put this together?”

She looked like she’d just had a stroke of genius, discovered a new element, or something. You looked at Eddie, then back to her. “Put what together? That I’m hopeless?”

“No, no no,” She leapt up off of the couch, starting to pace. “You sound just like—oh my God, this is incredible. I mean, this is actually perfect—”

“Robin!” You threw your arms out, exasperated, letting them smack against your sides.

“Steve!” She exclaimed, gripping your shoulders. “Steve, who is also lonely and has no plans for tomorrow!”

Your insides twisted. Steve.

You would’ve been lying to yourself if you said you’d never thought about him that way before. I mean, you had eyes, but your close friendship had never allowed it to last more than a minute. More than anything, the two of you poked fun at each other, constantly trying to see who could get the last word. But you were still close, close enough that you knew he’d come running if you ever really needed him, and that was… nice.

Everything about him was nice, really.

You blinked at Robin, your gears shifting at impossible speeds. She was still holding your shoulders, expectant.

“I think she’s on board.” Eddie piped up with a smirk, and you instantly held a finger out to him, still looking at the girl in front of you. “I didn’t say that.”

“You’re saying it with your eyes.” Robin was containing a giddy squeal. You could almost feel her vibrating. 

“No, no, I’m not.” You finally broke free from her grasp. Now you were pacing. “If Steve was interested in me, he would’ve said something a long time ago.”

Eddie’s brow furrowed. “Are we talking about the same guy?”

“Yeah, dingus, with a capital ‘D’,” Robin gestured with her hands. “I saw a bird land on his head once and he asked me what I was looking at. You think he’d notice he had a shot with you?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Okay, that’s… yeah, you’re right. But I’m not just gonna call him up and ask him to be my Valentine. I’d rather puke.”

“So don’t!” Robin spun around, another lightbulb behind her eyes. “I have an idea.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

This was a terrible idea.

You were staring into your mirror, smoothing out the wrinkles on your clothes. You’d gone for not-trying-too-hard cute; a black turtleneck with a calf-length, patterned skirt, and a thick belt around your waist. You’d done your hair and your makeup, satisfied with them, but this time felt… different. You weren’t going to Enzo’s with some tip-stiffing lowlife. You were seeing Steve.

Robin had suggested a gathering at your place. She, Vickie, Nancy, and Jonathan were sitting in your living room, sipping drinks, chatting mindlessly. When she’d invited Steve, she’d said that the four of them were going to your house—assuming he’d pick up the hint, and jump at the chance to be your date. 

And he did.

The real reason you’d never allowed Steve to infiltrate your mind was because, well, that’s exactly what he’d do. You could handle losing Matthew Campbell, or Ben Taylor, or any of these meaningless Hawkins guys you never realistically saw yourself with in the first place; but Steve was close. Close to your friends, close to your heart, inching ever nearer by the minute. 

It was terrifying. But then again, he agreed to come—–and that made your stomach flutter.

Deciding you’d spent enough time making sure every last hair was in order, you took a deep breath, venturing back out to the living room. You were greeted with warm, knowing smiles. 

“You look gorgeous.” Nancy rose from her seat, coming over to give your arms a comforting rub. “Really, he’s not gonna know what hit him.”

You nodded, trying not to look as nervous as you felt. “Thanks, Nance.”

“It makes so much sense, doesn’t it? I mean, I really should play matchmaker more often. I’m changing lives here!” Robin shook Vickie’s thigh where her hand rested, excitedly. It made everyone chuckle.

Jonathan took another sip of his drink. “Now you’ve just gotta find someone for Ed—”

A knock at the door. Fuck. In an instant, every ounce of confidence you had flew straight out of the window. And your face must’ve shown it, because Nancy began soothing you again. 

“Hey, look at me.” She whispered, and you did. “You’ve never been this nervous to see him before, right? Pretend this is just another day. Just… Friday.”

You swallowed. It definitely wasn’t just Friday anymore.

Nonetheless, you shot a weak, thankful smile at her, making your way up to the door. Usually, you’d be embarrassed to let your friends see you this way—taking deep breaths, shaking your hands to relieve some anxious energy. Right now, though, you couldn’t care less, much too preoccupied with the thought of Steve’s face. Just open it. Open the door.

So, you did.

And there he was, grinning adorably, smelling of his cologne, wearing a well-fitted sweater... Holding hands with a girl.

“Hey,” He spoke happily, though his eyes searched your face for just a moment, as if you’d let the shock slip through. “This is Brenda.”

Your whole body stiffened, knowing that the rest of the group heard him, and were now searing holes through the back of your head. Your stomach flipped over on itself, even your organs mortified.

“Hi, Brenda.” You forced a smile at the girl, as if every nerve in your body wasn’t on fire. “Come on in.”

As you turned around, you studied the expressions in the room, seeking some kind of escape. Nancy and Vickie at least tried to look normal, staring at the ground or taking a sip of their drink; Jonathan’s brow was furrowed in disbelief, and Robin’s mouth was hanging open, eyes locked on you.

You quickly walked to the couch where Nancy and Jonathan sat, just standing beside it, your fight-or-flight instinct physically unwilling to let you sit. At least Steve and Brenda would have a spot now, right?

The embarrassment was already making your eyes water.

As the two of them entered the uncomfortably silent living room, you saw his eyes scan the room, similarly to how you had—like he was searching for something. And when he didn’t find it, his eyes landed back on you, any trace of his previous smile gone.

“It’s so nice to meet you guys!” Brenda chirped to the group, the tension completely unnoticed by her.

You felt suffocated. Suffocated by your turtleneck, by the silence, by Brenda’s curly, blonde hair and perfectly pink lips—but mostly by Steve, who was still staring at you. You refused to look back. 

“Music!” You squawked, mind numb. “We should put on some music, it’s so quiet—” You strided toward your box of cassettes, sat beside the television, and began scrambling with them. “—I’ve got Tears for Fears, or, um, oh! ABBA, everyone likes ABBA, right? Uh…”

Without you even noticing, Nancy appeared at your side, gently grabbing the tapes from your hands. “Hey, hey. I’ll pick out some music, okay?” Her voice was quiet, forehead creased in concern.

Your movements slowed. You nodded, eyes half-welled with tears. The dam was definitely about to break.

“Okay, well,” You stood up again, arms swaying slightly, feeling everyone’s eyes on you. “You guys sit. I’m, um… I’ll be right back.”

You spun on your heel, making your way to your bedroom, closing the door behind you by leaning on it. The tears began to fall immediately, streaking your face with mascara.

You felt stupid. Stupid for ever letting Robin set this up, stupid for spending so much time making yourself presentable, when Brenda looked so effortlessly beautiful. You’d convinced yourself it would be some sort of magical night, which seemed ridiculous now. Why would Steve want you? More importantly, why would you ever let him affect you this way?

Your chest heaved, trying desperately to keep quiet. The last thing you wanted was more pity.

Soon enough, you heard a soft click from the living room, the faint sounds of Kate Bush coming through the speakers. You considered your options: hide in your room until the party was over, risk someone coming to check on you, go back out there and endure stares of sympathy, or… Leave. 

A rush of adrenaline surged through you, bringing you to your feet. You went to your mirror, attempting to smear away the black marks under your eyes—it was useless, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore. Eddie would call it metal. So, for where you were headed, it was actually perfect.

You snatched your purse off of the dresser, the hurt morphing from sadness to anger, and marched out into the living room, making a bee-line for the front door. Everyone’s heads perked up. Your hand met the doorknob, gripping it tightly, before Steve appeared next to you.

“Hey, can you just wait a sec—where are you going?” He spoke softly, avoiding the rest of the rooms prying ears. His voice was hoarse.

You didn’t look at him. “I’m going to see a show with Eddie.”

“Can you let me explain? Please, just—”

Your head turned sharply, reddened eyes daggering through his solemn, brown ones. “I’m embarrassed, Steve. I’m…” You swallowed, fighting back any more tears. “I can’t be here right now. Can’t I just go?”

He brought a hand up, running it anxiously through his own hair. He looked dejected, and despite how much you wanted to hate him at this moment, your heart panged. It wasn’t enough to make you stay; not when Brenda was still on your couch. Not when the rest of the group felt sorry for you.

“Okay,” He finally breathed, barely audible. You started to open the door, and he softly took hold of your wrist. “Just be safe. Please.”

You looked at him, heart thrumming in your chest, eyelashes stuck together from the mixture of tears and makeup. “Have a good night. I’m… I’m sorry I ruined it.”

And with that, you were out the door, despite his attempt to say something else.

 · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The show was an adequate distraction.

When you’d shown up at The Hideout, scouting Eddie out in the crowd, he was shocked to see you. He was even more shocked to see the state you were in—makeup destroyed, eyes puffy, a hand clinging shakily to your purse. He immediately threw an arm around you, eyes expectant for an explanation.

“He brought a girl,” you’d shouted over the music. Eddie couldn’t have rolled his eyes any harder, squeezing your arm in frustration. “He’s even dumber than I thought then,” He yelled back. 

Steve was dumb. Purposefully dumb? You didn’t think so, and that made it all the more difficult to stay angry.

You were thankful for Eddie more than ever. He was always great at taking your mind off of things, getting you to let loose, have fun; it may have been the worst Valentine’s Day of your life, but at least he had given it some kind of silver lining. It was almost impossible not to smile around him, especially when he was acting extra goofy, insistent on lifting your spirits.

When he drove you home, the events of the night began to set in again. You dreaded your next conversation with Steve, whenever that would happen—I’m so sorry, but I just don’t feel that way about you, you could hear him saying, shoving the embarrassment deeper down your throat.

You considered never speaking to him again, just to spare yourself that feeling.

“Do you want me to come in?” Eddie laid a gentle hand on your knee, his beaten-up car parked a few feet from your door. 

“No, I’m okay.” You assured him, unconvincingly, and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “Think I just need to wallow tonight, y’know?”

He nodded, looking down at his lap. “I’m sorry, seriously. Kind of want to kill the kid.”

That brought a small smile to your face. “Don’t tempt me, I might just give you the go-ahead.” 

The two of you looked at each other, sharing a small chuckle. Eventually, you reached over, hugging him tight.

“Thank you for tonight. Really, I needed it.” You whispered, and he gave your back a comforting rub. “Anytime, you know that.”

You exited the car, already starting to wish you’d said yes to Eddie’s offer, and made your way to the door. Through the windows, you could see that most of the lights were off—everyone had gone home, thank God, though you were sure Robin and Nancy would be calling off the hook to talk about everything.

You jiggled the handle open, greeted by your dark living room, apart from the one lamp emanating warm light. And underneath it, Steve.

Sitting upright on the couch, head leaned back, arms crossed. Fast asleep.

You froze, a tightness in your chest. It was exactly what you didn’t want right now, to see him, have to talk to him. And for whatever reason, something in you was glad to find him there. 

You softly shut the door behind you, sat your bag on the coffee table, and took a seat beside him. The cushion dipping under your weight caused him to stir awake: his head lulled to the side, eyes fluttering open. They widened at the sight of you. 

“Hey.” His voice was gravelly from sleep, and he was quick to adjust himself to a more awake position. He cleared his throat, though it did little for his voice. “You’re home.”

“Yeah.” You mumbled, toying with your skirt. “Did… did you stay?”

“I was worried about you.” He looked into your eyes, and you wanted to look away, but you didn’t. “And I needed to talk to you.”

“What about Brenda?”

“I took her home. Came back.”

“Look,” You started, finding the strength to avert your gaze. “I don’t… I don’t want anyone else feeling bad for me. It was Robin’s idea, and of course you don’t feel that way about me, it was really stupid of me to assume—”

“Stop.” He blurted, somewhat forcefully. You blinked at him. “Please, just stop. I fucked up tonight, really bad. When I got the invite, I thought you’d have someone with you. It just… I’m an idiot. If I wasn’t an idiot, I would’ve never brought Brenda.”

Your stomach flipped familiarly, like it did when you heard a knock at the door earlier. “She was  beautiful, though.”

“She isn’t you.” His hand landed on your thigh, and his eyes darted to it for a moment, as if he hadn’t meant to. You both lingered there.

When he realized you weren’t going to push it away, he continued. “If—if when you went out with Eddie… I mean, if I blew my chance, I understand.”

Blew his chance. You wondered if he could ever truly do that.

“Steve, Eddie was just cheering me up.” You couldn’t help but smile a little, putting your hand over his. “He’s not my Valentine, if that’s what you’re asking. He does kind of want you dead, though.”

“They all want me dead, trust me.” He blew air out of his lips, eyebrows raising.

“What do you mean?”

“After you left, Brenda went to the bathroom, and I got a thorough bitching out.” 

You bit your lip, trying to hide the happiness that brought you. “You kind of deserved it, though.”

“Oh, absolutely.” He affirmed. There were a few moments of stillness, your touching hands drawing both of your attention. 

“Is Brenda your Valentine?” You wondered, voice softer. 

“Didn’t ask her to be.” He looked up at you, voice matching your tone. “Are you still… looking for one?”

Your eyes were locked, melting under each other's gaze. You could almost feel his breath.  His free hand came up to cradle your face, thumbing across your stained cheek. 

“There’s really only one I wanted.”

“Same here.” He whispered.

You quickly leaned forward, disturbing the stillness of the moment, and slotted your lips with his. He tasted like beer and strawberry chapstick, and smelled like a warm summer day—one that broke through the chill you’d been feeling all evening. Butterflies erupted inside you, fluttering in your stomach, your heart, your veins.

Your hands came up to clutch at his chest, the fabric of his sweater crinkling beneath your fingers. The kiss, which had started fervent, softened; the two of you broke apart, and he stole a peck at the corner of your mouth, foreheads resting against each other.

You both took heavy breaths, caused more by emotion than physical exertion, chests rising and falling in unison.

“I gotta make it up to you.” He breathed. You shook your head ever so slightly, a grin playing across your lips. 

“Steve, you already—”

“I’ll be your Valentine every day, for as long as you let me.”

You thought it might’ve been the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to you. Your forehead creased, trying not to let your eyes water, this time for a much better reason. As close as your faces were, you knew he noticed anyway.

“Deal?” His eyes searched your own, voice small, as if he was afraid you might say no.

You couldn’t stop a happy huff from leaving your lips, a single tear fighting its way out of the corner of your eye. “Deal.”

He beamed, pressing his lips into yours, as if he’d been awaiting the opportunity to do it again.

Steve Harrington became yours on Valentine’s Day, 1986. A Friday. A day you’d almost always ignored, until you didn’t. A day you were almost certain was going to be the worst day of your life, until it wasn’t. In fact, it might’ve been the best. 

Because Steve would continue to be yours each Friday after that—and every day in between, too.

[weird-an]

"Just leave me alone, Harrington," Billy shouts. "Stop getting on my nerves."

A year ago Steve would have been hurt. Insulted. Would be angry for a week and only start talking to Billy again when the other nearly begs for him to speak again.

But Steve has learned a lot on this past year. He had sucked at school, but he's awesome in studying Billy Hargrove's behaviors and moods. He could write a fucking book, a manual how to deal with Billy's tantrums.

"No," he just says and admires himself for being completely chill about it.

"What the fuck did you just say?" Billy stands in front of him, nostrils flaring and hands clenching into fists.

"You're hungry. When you're hungry, you're a worse bitch than I am," Steve explains slowly, amused by the twitch of Billy's left eyelid. "So, you'll have a cookie now and I'll put a pizza in the oven."

"I don't want a cookie," Billy grits out. No, Steve thinks, you need at least three. He could really publish a scientific paper about that.

Steve pulls out the package of triple chocolate chip cookies he has put on the fridge for situation's like this.

"Are you sure?" he asks, waving it in front of Billy's eyes.

Billy grabs the package out of his hand.

"Fuck you," he says, shoving a cookie in his mouth and getting crumbs all over his shirt.

When the pizza is in the oven and Billy has eaten three cookies, it's safe to approach him. Steve has found out through trial and error.

"Feeling better?" he says, sitting next to Billy on the couch.

"Maybe," Billy huffs. "Still hungry."

"The pizza needs like two minutes," Steve says.

"Sorry," Billy mumbles. "I didn't mean to..."

"It's okay." Steve rubs Billy's neck. He's totally getting sex as an apology later and that's the best compensation ever.

[forever-rogue]

hi i really love all your stories and i wanted to request a steve harrington x reader. my ex boyfriend was huge asshole and would constantly make fun or make me feel bad about almost anything like my music taste or quirks i do when im nervous and it really messed with me after we broke up and i was wondering if u could write a story where steve notices and is just a big sweetheart about it and comforts you. thanks 💚

AN | First of all, I’m sorry anyone ever made you feel like that bb, no one deserves that. Secondly, Steve remains the best, change my mind 🥺

Warnings | Language, Discussions of bad past relationships

Pairing | Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 3.7k

Masterlist | Steve, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Can I ask you something?" 

Why was it that singular question that always made your anxiety spike up immediately? Your heart skipped a few beats before slamming against your ribcage as you looked at your boyfriend with wide eyes.

"Y-yeah," you choked on the single syllable as you tried to put on a calm face. Ugh. He should have known better than that. That was a general life fact - you don't ask that question, "what is it?"

He paused for a few, an affectionate chuckle leaving his lips as he reached over and put a warm hand on your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek. You couldn't help the fact that you preened into his gentle touch, "I'm not going to ask you anything bad. And don't even lie and say you weren't worried, I saw the look on your face!"

"I…wasn't lying," you smiled meekly as he raised an eyebrow. You playfully scoffed, trying to hide your face in your hands, feeling warm all over under his intense scrutiny.

"Nuh uh," his hands wrapped your wrists with ease as he pulled your hands away from your face, "no hiding from me, pretty girl."

"Steve…" your lips formed a cute little pout as you looked at him shyly. He hadn't even said anything but his look made you so nervous. You wanted to crawl in on yourself more than anything, "just ask…please."

"Don't take this the wrong way, okay?" Oh no. You didn't like the sound of that, but nodded anyway, "I've just noticed that…sometimes you don't seem to have much of an opinion on things. Like.. maybe that's not quite the right way to put it…more like you don't share your opinion. Why?"

"What do you mean?" well. You'd been dreading this moment. The moment that Steve Harrington realized you were nothing but a boring, pathetic girl. You swallowed the lump in your throat, already feeling the tears stinging at the back of your eyes, "I-I like lots of things, ya know?"

"I know but…they always seem to be the things I like," he shrugged lightly and you could tell there was no malice in his words, "I'm sure we do like a lot of the same things but what about you? Just you?"

"Steve."

"I know so much about you," his voice was so gentle that it almost hurt. You almost would have preferred for him to yell at you or sound mad or something, "but there's still so much I want to learn. It almost feels like you're hiding a part of yourself from me."

"I'm not hiding anything from you," you scoffed and shook your head. Your faze shifted away. Unable to look at him any longer, knowing you'd see hurt in those pretty eyes you loved so much, "its nothing, Steve. You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not trying to upset you,” he went to put his hand on your shoulder but you flinched out of his touch, “I just…I don’t know, I want you to feel comfortable with telling me anything. And I feel you’re holding back sometimes. You know you don’t have to do that for me.”

“If you feel that way, then why are you with me?” you stood up and off the couch before he could get a word in, your eyes threatening to spill over with tears. You hadn’t meant to snap at him; seeing the worried look on his face broke your heart, “I-I…I’m sorry, Steve. I gotta go.”

You were up and away, leaving his house as quickly as possible without even giving him a chance to catch up. The worst part of all was that you didn’t even have your own car; he’d picked you up. But that didn’t stop you from almost running down the street. By the time Steve had caught up with what was going on, you’d already disappeared far enough to where his shouts of your name were nothing but a soft, panicked sound in the distance.

This day couldn’t have gotten any worse. And you might just have lost the best thing that ever happened to you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You managed to avoid Steve for three whole days. They were the longest and worst days of your life, but that was beside the point. It seemed like after a harrowing seventy-two hours apart, neither of you could stand it any longer. Maybe Robin had been right - maybe you really were just fools disgustingly in love with each other. 

You’d decided that you were going to head over Family Video to talk to Steve; the fact that it was the middle of his shift didn’t even phase you.

Steve had decided that he was going to come and see you, at least wanting to try and find you, and if you weren’t home he would have waited. 

The two of you almost ran into each other on the steps in front of your house. You’d both had the same idea - you couldn’t stand being apart. 

“Steve,” his name fell from your lips like sweet honey and the boy almost melted at the sound. He’d been deprived of hearing your voice, of hearing you say his name for too long. 

“Sweetheart,” his honey brown eyes softened immediately as he looked you over and realized that you were okay. He hesitated, unsure of what he should do, what you would allow him to do. He wanted to wrap his arms around you, but also didn’t want to push your boundaries. But you didn’t hesitate to throw your arms around him, pulling him to your frame as tightly as possible. He was surprised by the warmth in your action but didn’t hesitate to return it. You buried your face in his chest, letting his touch, and smell overwhelm him.

“I’m sorry,” your voice was muffled by the soft fabric of his polo shirt as he squeezed you just a little tighter, “I’m so sorry. I should have snapped at you and I shouldn’t have run away like that. ‘m sorry.”

“No,” he kissed the side of your head, closing his eyes as he breathed in the familiar scent of your fruity shampoo and perfume, “don’t apologize. There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“B-but,” you pulled back from him, and he could feel your body  shaking lightly as your lips trembled with effort as you tried not to cry. His large, warm hands cradled your face tenderly as he brushed his thumb over your cheek, wiping away the tears you hadn’t even realized had run down your face, “I was awful to you. You asked me a simple question and I just snapped.”

“You weren’t awful,” he promised and despite his reassurance, you still didn’t feel any better. It was almost infuriating how golden hearted he was sometimes, “we had a minor…hiccup, but that’s it. We’ll get through it.”

“Y-you’re not breaking up with me?” your lips were drawn into a pretty pout and Steve couldn’t help but chuckle fondly as he shook his head. You’d been slowly coming to terms with the fact that he was going to dump you and you were going to have to learn how to leave without him. But apparently that hadn’t even crossed his mind, “are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Why?” your question was so soft and sweet that it brought a smile to his face. You’d always be his silly, beautiful girl.

“Because I’m so in love with you,” he leaned in so he could brush his nose against yours, “and you don’t just quit on those you love. You’re not going to get rid of me that easily, sweetheart. When I said I was yours forever, I meant it.”

“I meant it too,” you whispered softly, “I love you, Steve. So much…”

“Why do I feel like there’s a but coming?” a huff of nervous laughter escaped his lips as you pulled back ever so slightly, creating a small but noticeable distance between your bodies, “sweetheart?”

“But…” he knew you so well, sometimes it was almost scary, “I just feel like…if you knew all of me, you wouldn’t love me anymore.”

“You really think that?” he seemed almost upset that you would think so little of yourself. He shook his head, wishing you would give yourself more credit than that. Wishing you could see yourself as he saw you, “there’s nothing you could do to ever make me love you less.”

“Are you sure?” you asked softly, “what if - “

“I’m sure,” he put a gentle finger to your hands before you could even open your mouth to say anything else, “and don’t give me some random weird little thing hypothetical like if you were a murderer. I mean it - I love you as you are.”

“Okay,” you sniffled lightly, nodding your head, “yeah, okay. Do you wanna come in and we can talk?” 

“You sure?” this time it was your to lean in and you brushed your lips against his. He hummed in content, before putting his hands on your waist, his grip tight but protective as he deepened the kiss. You let him take control and let him kiss you dizzy until you were both breathless. He pressed his forehead against yours as his pretty eyes closed, long eyelashes feathering against your cheek, “I guess you are sure.”

“Positive.”

You gave him a soft smile before reaching for his hand and threading your fingers together. You opened the door, tugging him along with you. He easily complied, following you after without hesitation. Truthfully, he would have followed you anywhere and you wouldn’t even have to ask. 

“Come on,” you kicked your shoes off and bounced up the stairs, leading him up. He’d been to your house on several occasions, but this still all felt so new to him. He felt like he was going to see you in an all new light. At the top of the stairs you stopped and turned to him, offering him a shy, sweet smile. With you standing at the top and him on the step below you were the same height for once. That caused you to giggle before pressing a soft kiss to his lips, “I really, really like you.”

“That’s funny,” there was a pretty little blush that crept into his cheeks as his big bright eyes watched you intently, “‘cause I really, really like you too.”

You were practically glowing as you padded down the hall with him coming after you intently. When you stopped at your bedroom door, you hesitated for a moment - he’d never technically been in your bedroom before. And that had been for a purpose before…in retrospect it all seemed so silly and childish. Why had you ever doubted Steve, even for a moment?

You opened the door slowly and stepped in, motioning for him to follow, but watching his face curiously to see how he would react. A pretty, bright smile spread across his face as he took it all in. Your space was tidy and organized, feminine to a touch, but the rest was all - 

“Oh,” Steve went to your shelf and looked at some of the hand-painted figurines that lined your wall. Your heart almost dropped into your stomach as you realized that his reaction was already mirroring that of your horrible ex-boyfriend.

“Steve-”

“This is so cool!” 

Oh. Oh. That wasn’t what you weren’t expecting to hear. He touched a few of the intricately painted fantasy figures before looking at the posters of the various bands you liked, the stack of books that are to be read on your desk, and collection of obscure vhs tapes that were waiting to be returned. He turned back to you, his brown eyes twinkling with curiosity as you simply shrugged in a small gesture as if to say ta-da. 

“Y-you’re not making fun of me, right?” you asked softly and he shook his head fervently. How you could not see that he was already so very whipped for you. 

“I would never,” he promised and that’s when you saw the mischievous little glint in his eyes, “I happen to like quirky little nerds quite a bit.”

“I-I’m not-”

“Oh honey,” tender affection laced his words as he wrapped his arms around you and picked you to spin you around. You shouldn’t help but giggle at his playfulness, “you don’t have to lie to me, or ever feel like you have to hide yourself from me. You, sweetheart, are totally a little nerd. I can’t believe that you felt like you couldn’t share this part of you with me.”

“Steve,” your eyes were teary, but this time the tears weren’t of fear or worry, but deep affection for the pretty boy in front of you, “it’s…not you. It was never you.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked gently, his grip around you tightening as he tried to silently tell you that it was okay, that he wanted you to open up to him. You hesitated for a moment before slowly nodding, “it’s okay if you don’t want to or you’re not ready, sweetheart. But I’m always here for you, and I'll be here when you’re ready.”

“I know,” you promised softly, “I trust you, Steve. And I love you.”

“I love you,” you couldn’t help but kiss him gently at that. You sat down at the edge of bed and he followed suit, his body pressed against yours as he reached for your hand and laced his fingers through yours. 

“You know it seems so silly,” you confessed, as you laid your head on his shoulder, “especially when I think about saying it out loud.”

“I don’t think anything related to your thoughts and feelings is silly,” his reassurance came in the form of a soft whisper and a kiss to the side of your head, “really.”

“My ex boyfriend he was…well, at the time I thought he was wonderful, you know? Like he was so wonderful and amazing, but in reality he was a huge jerk and wasn’t good at all,” you sighed heavily, but already felt the tiniest bit better even getting that much out, “he was kinda like that ‘all-american’ good boy, you know? He was the pretty boy jock and everything was appearances to him and looking cool and basically being some sort of mindless robot. And for whatever reason, I convinced myself that was okay for a long time. He was the first person to show any kind of interest in me and I guess I thought I needed that at the time.”

“Did he…was he-”

“No,” you shook your head, happy to at least dispel that much, “he just wasn’t very nice to me. He thought I was pretty, and he liked that I was smart, but he didn’t like much else about me. So, he basically told me that I shouldn’t talk about the things that I was into, the things that weren’t ‘cool.’ At first it upset me, but it was just at the time that I wanted to be accepted and liked. And that’s what I did, I just kind of shoved myself away and did what everyone else did.”

“That’s so…” he’d shifted his body so he was facing you, a hurt expression on his face as he processed everything you had said. You offered him a meek smile and a shrug of your shoulders, “fucked up. I can’t believe that anyone would do that to you, or say that your interests weren’t valid or acceptable.”

“I mean, I feel like it’s partially me too,” you confessed, “I could have walked away but I stayed with him. It just felt like…I couldn’t leave in a way? But now I realize just how stupid it all was. I could have just said no. But I didn’t.”

“But you can’t blame yourself for that,” he insisted, “we were all impressionable when we were younger but that doesn’t mean that we should blame ourselves for things that we did. Besides that, it just seems like he was a huge asshole and just wanted you to make him look good. If anything, he was just insecure about himself.”

“You always know just what to say, don’t you?” you sighed softly, finding your boyfriend watching you with a tender expression, “one of the many things I love you about, Steve Harrington.”

“I mean, I am pretty rad,” he teased, running a hand through his soft brown locks, “but so are you, angel. Can I ask what made you break up with him?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted softly, “at some point I just realized that enough was enough. I’d gotten tired of hiding who I was and always having to be on eggshells around other people. So one day, I guess I had a moment of confidence because I just broke up with him. The worst part - maybe also the funniest - was that he didn’t even seem to care. He just said okay and that was that.”

“Wow,” Steve sighed as he shook his head, “he made the worst decision of his life, letting you just walk away. Thankfully, that worked out in my favor, because I got to meet you.”

“Yeah,” that was definitely the best part of all - you got to meet the love of your life, “I agree. Breaking up with him was the second best decision of my life.”

“What’s the first?”

“Deciding I needed to rent a bunch of movies on a random Tuesday afternoon and meeting the pretty boy that was working at Family Video,” he practically melted at the memory of meeting you, of you walking into the store like it was no big deal when in reality you had just knocked his entire world upside down. Steve was a romantic at heart, but he’d never believed in true love until he saw you. And then everything had made sense, it was like everything fell into place. He was looking at you with the sweetest expression and it made you want to hide your face with shyness, “don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” there was a teasing lilt to his voice that you adored, “like I’m in love with you?”

“Yeah,” you admittedly shyly, “like that.”

“But it’s true,” he insisted as you nodded.

“I know, Stevie,” you leaned in and he quickly got the hint as he pressed the most saccharine of kisses to your lips, “thank you for listening to me…and not, you know, judging me.”

“I would never,” you knew he meant it, “and I’m glad that you were able to share that with me. And I hope you know that you never, ever have to hide anything from me. I love you as you are, even all the little bits and pieces you don’t love as much.” 

“I won’t…I just feel silly thinking I ever had to hide from you,” you lightly groaned as yourself, “I know, and I have known, that you would never judge me or anything. You are much too good for that. I guess I just wanted to fit in and wanted you to like me. You’ve always just seemed so cool.”

“Me?” he scoffed playfully as you beamed at him, “cool? Have you seen the dorks that are my friends? I haven’t been cool since…it's been a long time, and honestly, I’m glad we didn’t meet back then. I don’t think you would have liked me at all.”

“Steve-”

“I mean it,” he insisted nervously, “I was umm…kind of a huge dick. I probably was closer to your ex than what I am now.”

It was hard picturing the man in front of you to be anything but the soft-hearted, kind-spoken person he was. He nodded and you touched his face, ghosting your fingers along his freckles, “what changed?”

“I don’t think I ever really did,” he confessed softly, “I think I just realized that I was going along with everything and looking for acceptance and love in all the wrong places. Turns out I had neither of those things back then and I realized that eventually. It just took a good knock on the head - literally and figuratively.”

“Oh my love,” you couldn’t stop yourself from climbing into his lap and wrapping yourself around him like a koala. You knew that Steve didn’t have much of a relationship with his parents, and it made sense as to why he loved his found family so much. He’d always just wanted love, as you had, “I guess we both were silly fools, huh?”

“Something like that…” he agreed softly, “promise me you won’t hide yourself away from me?”

“Pinky,” you held up your hand, pinky out as he laughed and hooked his finger around yours, “now it’s official.”

“Silly girl,” he brought your hand to his lips. He was quiet for a moment before his whole face lit up, “you remember my friend Eddie, right?”

“Of course,” you liked his friends, and you loved that he included you with his group of friends. They’d all been more than kind and you really enjoyed spending time with them, “I don’t think I could forget someone like him…”

“Yeah…” he nodded in agreement before both of you laughed, “he’s something. But - he’s really into Dungeons and Dragons, along with Dustin, Lucas, and Mike. I don’t know if that’s quite up your alley, but I’m sure they’d love to teach and have you play with them.”

“I…that could be very fun,” your heart melted at the thoughtful gesture as you stole a few sweet kisses from him, “I’d love that.”

“I would have said something a lot sooner,” he teased playfully, “but one little dork didn’t want me to know her secrets.”

“I’m not a dork,” you pouted cutely; you both were well aware of the fact that you were a dorky nerd. He raised an eyebrow and the serious face you were trying to keep disappeared and you dissolved in a fit of giggles. Steve took the opportunity to take your face in his hands and peppered kisses all over your face, “fine, fine, fine! But - I’m just a dork, I’m your dork.”

“My sweet, pretty, wonderful little dork,” he praised and you couldn’t help but blossom under his sweet words, “I love you.”

“I love you too, handsome,” you pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, “so much, in all the ways.”

[katyswrites]

'tis the damn season

PART 4 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: Smut (18+), angst, friends-with-benefits, parental neglect/abuse, smoking, alcohol use, two fools who can’t just say what they feel

Wordcount: 9.1k

Childhood friends-to-lovers-to-strangers-to-lovers again, broken promises, and roads not taken, lots of angst, soft smut, illicit affairs, what-ifs, and it’s always been you. And it all leads to your hometown, during Christmas break.

Part 4 | the warmest bed I’ve ever known

THEN, Spring 1988

“Wait, what?” Robin cried in disbelief.

You sighed, twirling the phone’s cord in your hand.

“Robin, look -”

“You mean I’m not going to see you at all? You’re killing me here -”

“Robin! It’s just… this is a really big opportunity. And, I’ve got my own place here now, and flights have gotten crazy expensive -”

You heard Robin laugh through the phone, then a sigh.

“You know I’m fucking with you, right?”

A small wave of relief washed over you - you had been dreading this call, so much that you’d been putting it off for over a week.

“You are?”

“Yeah! I mean - I’m not going to lie, I’m pretty bummed that you’re not coming back to Hawkins. I miss you like crazy. But, that’s so exciting… like, an internship with the New York Times? I mean, you’re really doing it - making it in the big city, all of that -”

You smiled, and flopped down on your bed, clutching the phone.

“Yeah, well, it’s not exactly glamorous - it’s an unpaid internship, and I’m taking extra shifts at the coffee shop to make it all work, with two roommates -”

“Yeah, but… it’s all pretty amazing. You’re really getting out, doing what you’ve always wanted. And I mean, me and Steve are still stuck back here -”

You twinged inwardly at the mention of his name, and were suddenly thankful that Robin couldn’t see you right then.

“Oh c’mon - don’t talk like that. I mean, you said the semester’s going well, right?”

Robin sighed, and you could picture the way she was probably rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, at Hawkins Community - but, I’m thinking of transferring next year. Not sure if I can afford it though.”

“There’s nothing wrong with community college, Robin. I’ve told you that like a million times -”

“It’s not the school itself, you know that. I just… you actually got out, away from Hawkins. The most interesting thing here is the movie theater, and only one screen is working right now, did you know that?”

You bit your lip, and searched for the words - you couldn’t argue with her there. But, Robin carried on, the way she often did:

“But, to be honest, it’s probably good that I’m sticking around here - without me here, God knows what would happen to Steve. I think we’re a little codependent, to be honest - did you tell him yet, that you’re not coming back for spring break, or the summer? I can, if you want, but I didn’t know -”

“Oh, uh - I mean, you can, if you want,” you answered quickly. “No need to make a big deal out of it, but, um… I don’t care if he knows, I guess. He’ll figure it out, when I don’t show up, anyways.”

You were aware that you were stammering, your heartbeat quickening and palms growing clammy at the thought of Steve. In the days following your argument, you had found yourself spiraling, thinking of nothing but Steve. There were a million times that you thought about calling him, or driving to his house, or even writing him a letter - but the idea of facing him again was enough to make you sick. In the end, you had headed back to New York in the new year, and subconsciously made a vow to never see him again. When you had received the summer internship offer, and the chance to renew the lease on your apartment, you had jumped at the opportunity. 

You hadn’t told Robin about what happened between you and Steve - it felt wrong to lie, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to talk about it. But you had somewhat assumed that he would say something - those two were inseparable. If she knew anything, though, she wasn’t letting it on. In fact, she was talking about Steve like things were completely normal, which was lending itself to awkward conversations like this. 

“Um, okay… by the way, just between you and me, I think he really misses you.”

You stiffened, and cursed yourself for your sharp intake of breath - Robin probably heard that.

“You think so?” you asked, trying your best to keep your tone steady.

“I mean, yeah - whenever I bring you up, he gets kind of weird… I can’t really explain it. He usually talks to me about these things, but… it doesn’t matter. I love him, but he can be such a guy sometimes, you know? But, I think he’s going to be sorry to hear you’re ditching us, that’s all.”

No, you thought. He’ll actually be thrilled to know he doesn’t have to see me again.

The thought alone was enough to make your eyes start to burn with tears, and you soon had to make a lame excuse to hang up the phone. And once again, you were alone. 

NOW, Winter 1988

For the two days following your conversation with Robin, where you had confessed everything, you find yourself spiraling. Maybe it’s just the run-in with Steve that had done this, the reminder that he’s real and here, only minutes away - in New York, it had been easy to keep him off of your mind. But, now, everything reminds you of him - driving past your old high school, the small Methodist church on the corner, the movie theater at the center of town, or the footprint of where Starcourt Mall used to be, bringing you back to that one summer when he scooped ice cream in that ridiculous sailor uniform. You feel him in the chilly winter wind, in the bare trees lining the sidewalks, in the smell of fireplace smoke drifting through the atmosphere on especially cold nights. And you hear him in the music on the radio, when that one Wham! song comes on, and you picture him rolling his eyes and smiling endearingly and you belted it in his face.

You had thought that being back in Hawkins would feel strange, after being away so long. But no, it’s worse - it aches. 

But, Christmas is on its way, and you throw yourself into holiday prep in full force. You decide to not think about Steve, to the best of your ability. You gather and wrap gifts, help hang lights over the fireplace, and finish addressing the last-minute Christmas cards that your mother forgot to send out. Then, comes the baking - you’re always tasked with it, making cakes and cookies and confections for all of the parties, including your special lemon cake, saved for an indulgent breakfast on Christmas morning. It’s what brings you to the grocery store in the afternoon, with a long list of baking essentials. The store is a bit of a zoo, with Christmas only about a week away, and you find yourself shouldering down the aisle labeled ‘Baking Needs.’ It’s slim pickings, and you inwardly groan as you have to get the more expensive brand-name baking soda. You’re so preoccupied that you’re intentionally drowning out the sounds of the people around you, scanning your handwritten list with a furrowed brow. 

Okay, you think, I’ve got the eggs, lemons, flour, sugar, unsalted butter -

It’s why you hardly see him, not until you’re looking up and moving again, nearly crashing your cart right into him.

“Oh my - oh, hey,” you say, your voice getting caught in your throat when you realize who it is.

Steve stares back at you, mouth hanging open, eyes wide. He looks just as he did a few days ago, a bit changed from the boy you last saw a year ago. But, he’s still Steve, and he’s standing in the middle of the grocery aisle right in front of you. The mundanity of it all somehow makes it seem more unbelievable, more exasperating. To his credit, he’s frozen in place, looking like he’s seen a ghost.

“Hey,” he replies softly.

You both stare at each other, almost filling the silence, then stopping - what is there even to say? Shoppers weave around you, muttering to themselves, crackly Christmas music playing through the store’s sound system. But you may as well be able to hear a pin drop, because you can’t find a single thing to say, and neither can Steve.

“I - um - what are you doing?” Steve asks. You glance down at you cart, full of chocolate and flour and absolutely nothing practical, then shrug.

“Oh, you know - buying stuff for Christmas baking. My parents are busy with work, and I’m the one who knows what to get anyways, so… yeah.”

It’s stiff, and awkward, and a ridiculous exchange to even be having. He just nods.

“Oh, yeah - the great Christmas baking extravaganza.”

Right - three years ago, Steve had been there to help you, letting you instruct him around the kitchen, and the cookies had nearly burned because you two got… distracted. You shake the memory, feeling sick.

“Oh - yeah. I think I’m making my chai cookies for your party, actually… your mom told my mom that she really liked those.”

He raises his eyebrows at that, curious.

“You’re - you’re coming to the party on Saturday?”

“I - well, yeah. I didn’t think I was, but… my mom was pretty insistent.”

Something flickers across his face then, something unreadable, then his expression hardens.

“Right, yeah -makes sense. I mean, that you’re coming because of your mom.”

His words are clipped, his voice sharp. Fuck.

You just wish, more than anything, that the ground will open up beneath you and swallow you up, if it means getting out of this encounter. But, miracles don’t happen often, so you have to swallow your pride and face him instead. You sigh, looking down at your cart. 

“Steve, I - that’s not what I meant. Well, I guess it is, but - I figured you didn’t really want to see me. And I’m not going to make you uncomfortable in your house, that’s not fair.”

Just silence from him, and you can’t look at him. You just find yourself focusing on a bag of flour in the cart, reading the label as you try to figure out something else to say.

“But, it seems the world just wants us to run into each other anyway, apparently,” you mumble.

“Hm, yeah, I guess,” Steve says coldly. Another moment passes, just the two of you in the grocery aisle - somehow, of everyone in the store, he’s the only one who truly seems like a stranger.

“Well, uh - I guess I’ll see you on Saturday,” you say quickly, finally bringing your eyes back up to meet his. “I - I’ll try to stay out of your way, though. It’s the least I can do.”

You make a move to keep pushing your cart, but Steve just sighs.

“Hey, wait -”

Despite yourself, you stop in your tracks, frozen. You look back at him, and there’s a question in his eyes, searching your face for… something.

“Yeah?” you reply.

“I, uh - are you free later today?”

You furrow your brow, and nod cautiously.

“Um, yes - I mean, I think I should be. I have a couple of other errands to run, but I don’t think it’s going to take super long -”

“You want to meet at Gateway? And like, get a coffee, or something?”

You feel your stomach twist and turn into knots - there’s something in his voice, the harsh edge softened just a bit, pleading for you. And he’s staring at you with those honey brown eyes, and you know one thing - if you say no, that’s it - the nail in the coffin. So you swallow, and nod slowly.

“Yeah - sure thing.”

He nods curtly, and glances at his watch.

“Okay, well - it’s noon, so want to say like, around 2?”

“Mm hm - that’s fine. I’ll meet you there, I guess.”

You let your gaze linger on Steve for a moment longer, then turn and walk down the aisle, pretending to look at your shopping list. You wonder if he’s still staring at you - but you don’t dare to turn around to find out.

*****

You arrive at Gateway Diner at 1:56 pm. Steve is never on time for anything, that much you know - so you sit in your car for a moment, gathering yourself. You take a few deep breaths, shutting your eyes and resting your head against the wheel. You feel a bit sick, your mind in a haze ever since the conversation in the grocery store a few hours ago. Coming back to Hawkins was a huge mistake, Christmas be damned -

You take a moment to glance at yourself in the mirror, and sigh - if you had known this was happening today…

You fish around in your bag, silently thanking yourself for always carrying around a little concealer and mascara. You do your best with your finger to cover the dark circles under your eyes, hastily dabbing in the concealer until it’s deemed good enough. As you quickly run mascara over your lashes, you laugh to yourself, feeling like a fool - but, it doesn’t stop you, nor does it stop you from finally getting out of the car. You take one more deep breath in the chilly December air - you can do this.

When you enter the diner, your cold cheeks burn as they meet the warm air. It’s thick with the sounds of chatter and silverware, the smell of greasy food wafting from the kitchen. It had been so long since you had last been here, and somehow, you actually feel like you’re somewhere familiar for the first time all week.

You try to catch the eye of the girl behind the counter to be seated - someone new, she might even still be in high school - but before you can, you hear an all-too-familiar voice call your name. You whip your head towards it, and see Steve sitting at a booth by the window, waving in your direction. 

You nod and head over, each step feeling impossible as you grow closer to him. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve run into him, you realize - you’ll never quite get used to the sight of him, not anymore.

He already has a mug of coffee in front of him, halfway done, by the looks of it. He got here early, and waited, you realize with dread. Fuck.

“Hey,” he says, offering a small smile as you slide into the vinyl booth.

“Hey,” you parrot. He’s just staring at you, and you suddenly find yourself fidgeting. Unsure what to do with your hands, you just fold them flat on the table, suddenly making this whole thing feel like a business meeting between colleagues. No, worse than that: you’re strangers.

“Thanks for coming,” he says quietly. “I wasn’t sure you would.”

You shrug, staring down at the full cup of coffee sitting in front of you - he must’ve ordered it for you.

“To be honest, I wasn’t sure I would, either.”

It’s brutal, but honest - his face falters slightly, but to his credit, he recovers quickly.

“Well, I’m glad you did.”

Silence again. Heavy, awkward. You fumble with one of  the little creamers, pouring it into your coffee and avoiding eye contact as you busy yourself.

“So,” he starts, “uh - how’s New York been?”

You shrug, stirring the coffee with a spoon.

“Fine. I mean, good - really busy. I’m still interning with the Times. And, working at this coffee place downtown. But, it’s cool, because I’m actually doing stuff. Like, I don’t just grab coffee - I get to sit in on meetings, they listen to my ideas, let me look over stuff as it gets edited - I’m learning a lot.”

You find yourself rambling, carrying on with details he probably doesn’t care about, because somehow it’s better than that godawful silence. Steve, to his credit, is at least pretending to be a good listener - he’s looking at you intently, hanging on each word as you carry on about your apartment, your roommates, the breaking news article you practically stayed overnight in the office to help get published.

“- I mean, don’t get me wrong, I was exhausted, but it was worth it - there was this thrill to it, knowing that I helped to make that happen, and it was on the front page. Below the fold, but still -”

“That’s amazing,” he says quietly. You stop, and meet his eyes. He’s just looking at you, face soft, and something tells you he actually means it. Bastard. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s what you’ve always wanted - for as long as I remember. So, that’s awesome, really. Did they put your name?”

You raise your eyebrow, confused.

“What?”

“Your name. On the byline? You always said that was your dream - to have your byline on the front of the Times.”

You hesitate for a moment, completely caught off-guard - you don’t even remember telling him that. But he does.

“Oh, that. Well, no. But, I didn’t write it, exactly - I called some sources, did some editing, but… it wasn’t exactly mine.”

He shakes his head as he raises the coffee mug to his lips.

“That’s still not right - you deserve it. I’ll march down there and tell ‘em that myself.”

You feel something flutter in your chest, in a way that’s achingly familiar, because it’s so Steve. 

“Yes, well - I think I can handle that for myself, thanks.”

It’s meant to be a joke, but sounds more defensive than you intend - did you intend it that way? But, you can't think on it, because the wall is put back up. You can see it in his face, how it hardens, how he straightens up a bit - he was just starting to relax, both of you were, but that iciness remains.

Before you can say anything, a waitress is approaching, carrying a tray full of food. You vaguely recognize her - middle-aged, with a friendly face and massive perm. Is her name Joan, maybe? You feel just a little sad, starting to feel more detached from the town you grew up in than you ever have before.

“The full breakfast for you, young man - and a full stack for you, with extra syrup,” she says enthusiastically.

You look at Steve, and raise an eyebrow. He just offers a small smile, and shrugs.

“I ordered before you got here - I figured you’d never say no to pancakes, right?”

“I - yeah, no, that’s great. Thanks, Steve.”

You set yourself on pouring the side of syrup over the plate, and Steve just shakes his head.

“So I was right - you still like to drench everything in sight in syrup,” he says playfully.

“Shut up,” you retort, earning a chuckle from him. It’s slightly forced, but still nice to hear - you hadn’t been sure if you remembered what his laugh sounds like anymore. 

“Thanks, though,” you add. “I’m actually pretty hungry.”

You both sit in silence while you eat. It’s strange, how something can be simultaneously so uncomfortable yet familiar. The booth is the same, with its worn vinyl, the sticky tabletop, the smell of coffee and syrup and eggs settling wrapping around you like a warm hug. But then there’s you and Steve, the only unrecognizable thing in this diner - still technically the same people who had slid into this booth as teenagers, but a bit older, more hardened, and something irreparable separating you.

“So,” you say after a while. “Uh, I realize I talked a lot about myself, but… how are things with you?”

He glances up at you for a moment, and shrugs.

“Oh, you know - the same. Working at Family Video, hanging out with Robin, the kids - I guess they’re hardly kids anymore. But, you know me - not much to report.”

There’s an edge to his voice, and it takes you a moment to remember why. You had managed to block out most of your argument from last winter, because the memory of it riddles you with an immeasurable guilt. But, you remember now:

Uproot your life? Be serious Steve - you couldn’t take a week off from your minimum wage job, chauffeuring a bunch of teenagers, and maybe being Daddy’s punching bag?

You suddenly want to sink into the floor, because if Steve is intentionally giving you a cold shoulder, you can’t say you don’t deserve it. But, wasn’t him asking you to meet him here, his way of extending an olive branch? Or, was it just to get some closure?

It’s an elephant in the room, this great big thing making it impossible to be near him, making your stomach turn intermittently. So, it has to be addressed, eventually - it needs to be ripped off like a band-aid.

“Hey, Steve - I… I’m sorry.”

He looks up at you, meeting your eyes properly. 

“What for?” he asks quietly.

You sigh, placing down your fork.

“You know what for,” you say firmly.

“Do I?”

He’s playing a game, his words a little more biting. This is going to be even harder than you thought, you realize - and you had already been prepared for it to be godawful.

“I - last time I saw you… I said some things I regret. Some really shitty things. And, you didn’t deserve that. I -” you steady yourself for a moment, taking a deep breath to combat the heaviness in your throat. Your chest is tight, your palms clammy.

“I just, um - I’ve played that argument in my head, like, a million times. And, I’ve felt a lot of things. Sometimes I get angry, upset, or just plain sad. But most of the time… I just feel shame. Like, utter, fucking shame. So, it may not mean much at this point, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fix this but… I’m sorry.”

You do mean it, every word, and there’s something unbelievably cathartic about finally saying the words that have been playing through your mind for a year. You’ve played this conversation in your mind a thousand times, and for once, you think that maybe you’re not screwing it up.

Steve’s face is unreadable - you can tell he’s thinking, and listening, but it’s hard to gauge what he’s really thinking. 

After a moment, he simply asks, “Then why did you leave?”

“What?”

“Why did you leave? When you didn’t come back this past summer, I - I thought you were gone for good. That I’d never see you again.”

He says it matter-of-fact, blandly, like he’s trying to stave off any emotion. You don’t really know what to say to that - did you think you’d ever actually see him again? Did you want to?

Honesty, you decide - at this point, it’s the least you owe him, even if you don’t actually know what the truth is.

“I - I thought I was, too. Gone for good, I mean. It wasn’t an actual choice - like, I didn’t think I wanted to stay away forever. But, you were right about one thing - I’ve always wanted to get out of Hawkins, and leave it all behind for something else. Any yeah, whenever I was gone, I missed you, Robin, my family… but then, when - well, when that happened… I got the internship offer, the chance to stay in my apartment, to start my life in the city. So, I decided to stay there. I ran, because… because I’m a coward. And, because I figure you hate my guts, and it’d be easier if you didn’t have to deal with me anymore.”

Because I couldn’t bring myself to face you, because I’d rather miss you than be hurt even more, because I -

“No,” he whispers.

“No what?”

“No, you’re not a coward,” he says firmly. “You’re a lot of things - Smart. Talented. Stubborn. Honest. A terrible singer, and a sugar addict -”

Despite everything, you find yourself laughing at him, because there he is again, the Steve you know.

“- but a coward? No, no way. Maybe you were scared but… that’s not the same thing, not really. I mean, you got out of Hawkins, you’re kicking ass at your dream job before you’re even done with school - that’s not a coward, got that? And… I don’t know how you could ever think that I hate you. Ever.”

He leans back in the booth after that, some tension visibly leaving his body as he gets it off of his chest. You just feel yourself freeze, your ears roaring, eyes burning.

“I - Steve, don’t -”

“I mean it,” he says. “I was hurt, and pretty pissed - maybe I still am, I don’t know. But hating you… that’s not something I could do.”

For not the first time in your life, you feel the sudden urge to protect this boy, to want to give him everything, to make sure nothing ever hurts him again. But you can’t say it, because it’s not quite a feeling you can put into words, unless -

“Promise?” you ask, perhaps a bit pathetically.

“Promise,” he says. 

With Steve, it’s easy to believe him, even if it’s only for a moment.

*****

When you’ve both drank your bodyweight in coffee, cleared your plates, and exhausted conversation, you make a move to leave the diner. Steve insists on paying, dropping bills on the table as you both re-emerge into the cold December air. After the warmth of sitting inside, the outdoors bites your skin, flushes your face. You wrap your scarf just a little tighter, shoving your hands in your pockets as you both walk to the parking lot. 

The day is already starting to dull, and thanks to the peak winter season, you know that there’s probably only about an hour of daylight left. Neither of you speak for a while, not until you reach Steve’s car. The familiar red BMW makes you want to cry, and you suddenly feel stupid for even feeling so attached to something like a car. But, it’s not a car - it’s an extension of Steve.

“Well, thanks,” you say carefully. “I - I’m glad we got a chance to talk properly. To clear the air, I guess.”

There’s still so much to be said, so many questions you want to ask - but maybe you’d never really know the answers to those.

He just kicks at the gravel, scuffing his Nikes as he contemplates.

“Me too. I mean, uh - do you have anywhere you need to be?”

You shake your head cautiously.

“Um, no? I already dropped my groceries at home, but I’m probably not going to start baking until tomorrow… I think my parents are out tonight, anyways. Wait, why?”

He shrugs, leaning back against the side of the car.

“Well… wanna go for a drive?”

He asks it so simply, as if no time has passed at all. In your high school days, and when you’d visit for college breaks, going for an aimless drive was a frequent occurrence, just an excuse to spend time together. But now, it feels like more than that - a peace offering, an attempt at normalcy. 

“Oh! Um - yeah, sure. Why not.”

When you slide into the passenger seat, everything is the same - not that you had really expected anything else. The dusty dashboard, the worn-leather smell, the crackly radio - all the same, like you had never left.

“Where are we going?” you ask casually as Steve backs out of the lot. You pull off your big red scarf, tossing it into the back seat as heat wafts through the vents.

“Dunno. Wherever we feel like, I guess.”

The answer is the old parking lot adjacent to Hawkins High, tucked right between the school and an old Methodist church. It’s basically deserted, the middle of the work and school day making you and Steve one of the only cars here.

After he parks, the boy just sighs, leaning back in his seat and shutting his eyes. You let him just do that for a while, the Christmas music on the radio serving as the only form of company. You stare ahead across the street, at the old high school building. The girl and boy who walked those halls a few years ago don’t exist anymore, not really - instead, there’s the versions of you and Steve sitting here in this car, changed.

“D’you ever miss it?” you ask.

“Hm?”

“High school. I mean, I know a lot of it is bullshit, and I think I’d die if I had to take another algebra test, but… do you ever miss parts of it.”

He thinks for a moment, before sighing and straightening up in his seat.

“Yes and no. I do think some things were a lot more simple back then. I mean, I was an asshole, but I kind of got my shit together towards the end. But, to answer your question - do I wish that my biggest problem was winning the next basketball game, or which girl I was going to take to prom? Yeah. Of course.”

You think about his words for a moment, and echo a similar sentiment - a desire for a life that was simpler, more carefree than you had realized at the time.

“We’re getting old,” you joke.

He laughs heartily, nodding in agreement.

“Oh, yeah - we’ll be in the old folks home, soon enough.”

You both laugh at that, the feeling and sound of it nearly foreign.

“Do you think we’re all going to end up like our parents?” you ask, voice a bit firmer.

He pauses again, staring straight ahead out the front window.

“No,” he concedes. “I hope not.”

The hours pass, the dusk quickly turning into the heavy cloak of night. The pair of you mostly sit in silence after that, occasionally swapping an old memory from childhood, laughing at a story from your high school days, occasionally wondering aloud where some of your former friends and classmates are today.

“I wonder if Tommy H. and Carol are still together,” you wonder aloud.

Steve groans. “Ugh, don’t remind me of them.”

“Why not? You guys were friends -”

“Yeah, that’s the problem. I wasted so much time with them, and people like them, just to be something I’m not. I just wish I had figured that all out sooner.”

“Why?” you ask. “I mean, I know they were kind of dicks, but… there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be popular in high school.”

“Maybe not,” he says. “But, I didn’t realize that what I really wanted - what I needed - was there in front of me, the entire time. And I didn’t need to chase anything.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, because you know what he’s getting at - you think back to that conversation years ago, in the haze of early summer, when he confessed to regretting distancing himself from you in high school. The same night he’d kissed you for the first time, when a lot of things happened for the first time -

You find yourself looking at the boy in the driver’s seat, and you want to reach across and just touch him - run your hands through his hair, brush along his face -

And you don’t realize that you’re leaning closer to him, you hand half-reaching out towards him. You catch it, pulling it back and settling it in your lap. But he’s looking at you with those big brown eyes, warm like honey, and they feel just a bit like home. And he’s leaning towards you, too, closer than he probably should be.

“Steve?” you ask, softer than a whisper.

“Yeah?”

You can feel the heat radiating off of him, contrasting with the cold fogging up the windshield glass, and he’s so close, the familiar smell of him becoming too much -

“I -”

Then, a screeching HONK, loud enough that you jump, your head nearly hitting the ceiling.

“Oh, fuck -”

“Jesus, sorry,” he says, realizing it just came from him, elbow pressed too hard into the steering wheel of his own car.

“It’s fine,” you say. Your eyes flit down to the clock on your dashboard, and you let out a shaky breath.

“Oh, wow - look at the time! I - I know my parents are out, but, it is pretty late -”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve says hurriedly. “Let me just drive you back,  I guess.”

“Sounds good!” you say, your voice a little too shrill, too enthusiastic. “Just bring me back to Gateway, actually - we left my car there.”

“Right, of course - I’ve got you.”

You two don’t say much else on the way back, letting Baby It’s Cold Outside and Sleigh Ride fill the silence instead. When Steve brings you back to the diner, you offer each other a curt nod, and you manage to get out a thanks again, I’ll see you at the party.

Before you can close the door, you’re stopped as he says “Hey, wait -”

“Mm?”

“Are we - are we friends again?” he asks. His voice is soft, pleading, his eyes wide and shining through the dimness of the night. You cross your arms and pull your coat tight, thinking carefully about your answer.

You want to say yes, of course, I don’t think we could ever not be friends, Steve. But then you remember what he had said all those months ago - those three words, which somehow crossed a line more than any amount of sex ever could. It’s what stops you, makes you hesitate, even as the boy stares at you expectantly.

“I - I don’t know,” you admit. “I guess I just - I need some time still, to figure stuff out. I don’t know if things can ever go back to the way they were, but -”

“They can’t?” he asks, sounding a bit defeated. You sigh, kicking yourself internally. You’re barrelling down a familiar path, and this whole thing could blow up again in an instant. So you gather yourself, measuring your response.

“I mean - not exactly as they were, no. But… I do miss you, Steve. More than I realized. So… I think it’s a start,” you decide.

He thinks for a moment, then slowly nods.

“Yeah, okay - I can do a start.”

You both just stare at each other for a moment, and you ultimately decide to step back. Before slamming the passenger door closed, you add, “Well - thanks again. I’ll see you on Saturday. At the party, I mean.”

He nods curtly, offering a semi-forced smile.

“Yeah - Saturday.”

When you’re back in your car, and you’re certain he’s driven away, you let your forehead rest on the steering wheel, wishing you could just melt into it and never come out again.

*****

It’s difficult to say whether you actually feel better after your day with Steve. Most of you says yes - apologies were made, the air was cleared, and for brief moments, it had felt as if nothing had happened at all. But, it also brought back memories - far too many memories. Little things, really - Steve’s laugh, they way his eyes glint in the sunlight, the smell of his cologne, the cigarettes he keeps in his glove box; the way he looks at you, the look he gets when you make a joke, the way he sounded saying I love y-

You’re pulled from your thoughts by the sound of your doorbell ringing. You glance at your bedside clock - it’s a little past 10pm, but there’s no way your parents could possibly be home yet…

You swing your legs over the side of your bed, shrugging on a sweater as you pad down the hallway to your front door. The doorbell rings again, and you roll your eyes - probably a last-minute late night delivery from out-of-town, because your mother always forgets something until a few days before Christmas.

When you open the door, the last thing you expect is Steve Harrington to be standing there in the dim porch light. His face is flushed from the cold, the flurries of snow dusting his hair, and he looks just a little too handsome. The sight of him makes you ache again, in a way you can’t quite explain. His eyes widen at the sight of you, as if you’re the last person he thought would be standing in the doorway of your own house.

“Steve! Hi! I, uh - what’re you doing here?” you ask with surprise. 

“Oh, um, you know,” he says, raising up a flash of red in his hand. “It’s just - you left this. In my car, I mean.”

You look properly at what he’s holding, and you make out what it is: your scarf. You hadn’t even realized it was missing.

“Oh! Um, thanks,” you say, taking it from his outstretched hand. Your fingers brush his, just for the briefest second. And, despite how cold his skin is, it feels like it lights you on fire at the contact. You pull back quickly, as if he’s actually burned you, and sling the scarf over your arm.

“Don’t mention it,” he replies, shoving his hands into his coat pockets.

You both stand there for a moment. Two. The wind howls a bit, and you both shiver.

“Was there anything else?” you ask, hardly daring to raise your voice above a whisper.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, but he doesn’t sound too sure. “I mean maybe?”

“Maybe?”

“No, I mean, yes - that’s all.”

You raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms.

“So, you drove out here in the middle of the night, as the snow is starting, just to bring me my scarf back?” you demand.

He just stares at you, long enough that you wonder if he somehow didn’t hear you. Then, he’s taking a step forward, and whispering, “No.”

You’re not sure who moves first, but he’s crashing into you, arms tugging you into each other as his lips find yours.

You gasp as he kisses you, surprised by how right it feels, how easy it is. Your hand is fisted in his coat, and he brings his hands to both sides of your face as you back up through the doorway, pulling him with you.

He kicks the door closed behind him, hardly breaking the kiss - it’s desperate, and messy, and nothing is gentle about it. He kisses you like he’ll die if he doesn’t, enough to knock the breath from your lungs. And you don’t want him to stop, not ever, not if it means that you’ll never have to lose him again.

You stumble your way through the house, until you’re searching frantically for the door of your bedroom, the pair of you barrelling through it in a whirlwind and slamming it shut.

It’s the first time you’ve stopped kissing since he came through the doorway, and you both just stare at each other, chests heaving, hearts racing.

“I,” he starts. “I swear, I’m just trying to -”

“I know,” you whisper, bringing one hand up to card your fingers through his hair. “I’ve always known, Steve.”

He furrows his brow, confused.

“Always known what?”

But you don’t answer, and just pull him in for another kiss instead. It’s gentler this time, just a bit sweeter, and he’s sighing into your mouth.

He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer, the kisses becoming desperate again. With every kiss, you’re trying to say a million things: I’m sorry, I missed you, I need you, I could never hate you, I lo-

But neither of you speak, because it’s just desperate moans and gasps, wandering hands and and tongues, and trying to touch anything, everything.

You don’t know when he shrugged off his coat, but you’re tugging at his sweater, perhaps a bit too desperately. He chuckles and steps back for a moment, pulling it off in one swift movement before bringing his hands to your head again, pulling your lips to his. It’s like you’re both addicted, unable to go more than a moment without touching each other. The distance and times is washing away, with every kiss, every brush of skin, every piece of clothing shed. 

He’s pulled your own sweater off of you, making a point to kiss the exposed skin of your shoulder and down the valley of your breasts, and you moan.

“Fuck, baby -” you gasp. “I - I”

“What do you need?” he asks, voice wild and desperate. “Tell me, anything you want, baby.”

“Just touch me, dammit,” you breathe, earning a laugh from him.

“I thought you’d never say that,” he growls, gently pushing you so you’re walking backwards. You let yourself fall as soon at the back of your knees hit the bed, and he’s hastily fumbling with the button of your pants.

In any other situation, you’d want him to take his time, to take it slowly, sweetly. But you don’t have the patience for that, not right now. SO you help him, popping the button and shimmying your pants down your legs, reaching around and unhooking your bra for good measure. As the straps slide down your arms and it falls off of you, he groans.

“Fuck - you’re so fuckin’ perfect, you’ve no idea -”

Your heart flutters at the praise, but you just pull him close to you, crashing his lips into yours again.

“Steve - please -”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” he concedes, guiding you backwards. “Lay back, baby.”

You oblige, breath hitching in your throat as his lips wander along your throat, your breasts, swirling his tongue around your nipple. You gasp and arch your back, and the sounds you’re making only push him further, his lips traveling down, down, down -

Then he’s pulling your panties down your legs and kissing you everywhere - your ankle, the inside of your knee, your thigh, and then -

When he first licks a stripe along your slit, you let out a strangled cry, practically flying off the bed as you arch up. He practically growls, pressing his lips to his clit as he does, and you’re pretty sure you’re whimpering.

“Oh, fuck - Steve, that’s it - right there. I - ah! - add your finger there, yes -”

He’s working on you like it’s his job, lapping at you like a starving man. His tongue circles slowly around your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you, and you hear the sound of your slick, your heaving breaths and pleas filling the room. You grip the sheets, bringing your heels to his bare back to press him closer into you.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he breathes into your cunt. “It’s so hot, baby - you taste so good -”

He’s speaking nonsense, half muffled as he licks at you, but the praise is enough for you.

You can’t even warn him, your orgasm hitting you embarrassingly fast. You come hard, screaming his name as you throw your head back and practically buck into his mouth. He continues licking at you softly, gently working you down from your high.

“That’s it, there you go - God, I love how you sound when you come,” he whispers, his breath fanning over your core. When it becomes too much, you gently tap his head, signaling him to come up for air. He pulls himself up slowly, hovering over you with a big grin on his face.

“Hi,” you breathe.

“Hi.”

His chin and lips are coated in your slick, but you don’t care. You pull him down into another kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue.

“You doing okay?” he asks as he pulls back, taking a moment to brush some hair from your face. You nod, unsure if you’re able to speak quite yet. So instead, you reach downwards, fumbling with his belt and button, biting your lip as you fumble in the dark between you two.

“Whoa, okay, hang on,” he says, pulling back to stand up for a moment. He rids himself of his pants quickly, his boxers the only remaining clothing between you two. Then he’s hovering over you again, smiling as you start kissing him. You reach down and start palming at his clothed bulge, straining against the confines of his underwear.

He groans into your neck, and shakily places his hand over yours and pulls it back.

“Wait, wait, baby - as much as I want you to touch me… I think this is gonna be over way too fast if I let you do that.”

You feel pride surge in your chest, the idea that you can have that kind of effect on this beautiful boy above you. So instead, you say nothing, and move to sit up. You wordlessly guide him, coaxing him to lay back against the mattress so you can straddle him.

He’s looking at you like you might not be real, and in that moment, you’re not sure if he is, either. So instead, you help him pull off his boxers, letting his hard cock spring free. It looks nearly painful, and you want nothing more than to make him feel good, to give him anything he wants.

So, without much ceremony, you take his cock in your hand. He hisses at your touch, and as you raise yourself over him, you meet his eyes one more time - are you sure?

He just nods, and you lower yourself onto him, enveloping him inch-by-inch. You both moan at the feeling, moving yourself slowly as he stretches your walls. He screws his eyes shut and throws his head back, groaning at the feeling of you around him. After what feels like a painstakingly long time, he bottoms out, filling you so completely that you think you might cry. 

You sit there for a moment, both getting used to the feeling - it had been a while for you, and if you had to guess, it had been for him as well.

“Can I move?” you ask after a moment. He just nods, eyes finally flying open to focus on you.

You being rocking back and forth, slowly, and he looks as if he’s died and gone to heaven. Soon enough, though, you begin to pick up the pace, bouncing on his cock as he rocks into you. He shifts until he’s nearly sitting up, gathering you close to his chest and you continue to rock in his lap. He snakes his hand down to where you meet, rubbing fast, messy circles on your clit. The sounds filling the room are just the slapping of skin, heaving breaths, and a slew of dirty words falling from both of you, incoherent and out of control.

“Oh, fuck - baby, you feel so good - so fuckin’ warm and tight, just for me -”

“I - oh, God - you’re amazing. Your cock is so big, filling me perfectly -”

“So beautiful, riding me like this - I can’t believe you came so quick before, babe - can you do it again?” he whispers, mouthing at the skin behind your ear. You just nod, burying your face into the warm skin of his shoulder, meeting his thrusts as he fucks up into you.

Then he angels himself perfectly, hitting that spot inside of you, and you start to cry out.

“I’m close, oh god, Steve - right there, harder, please, fuck me harder -”

You feel his cock twitch inside you, and feeling just a little bit evil, you squeeze around him. He sounds as if you’ve killed him, pressing his teeth into your shoulder.

“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna -”

“Come for me, Steve,” you whisper. “Come when I do.”

He mouths at your neck, and as you feel the familiar hook pulling in your abdomen, it hits you - what both of you need, right now, in this moment. You slow your movements slightly, pulling back to look him in the eye.

“Steve?” you breathe.

“Mm?”

You take his face in your hands, kissing him sweetly, completely in contrast with the way he was roughly fucking up into you. You’re both growing more sloppy, more desperate, chasing your respective highs.

“I - I love you,” you whisper.

That’s enough for both of you. You snap, throwing your head back and screaming as you squeeze and convulse around him. You’re seeing stars, the warmth spreading through you and your orgasm hits your like a train.

Steve follows a second behind, cock twitching and spilling into you as he cries out your name like a prayer, mumbling sweet nothings into your skin as you slow your rhythm, riding out your orgasms together. His hips stutter, then still, only the sounds of your rapid breathing and racing hearts to accompany you.

He still has his arms wrapped around you, chests flush to each other. Steve starts pressing gentle, open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder, his hand slowly rubbing your back. Neither of you say anything, not for a while - the wind howls outside, the snow falling a bit more now.

Eventually, he starts to soften in you, and you pull yourself off, clambering to the other side of the bed. He wordlessly reaches for the unmade comforter and pulls it over you both, noting the goosebumps forming on your skin.

You both just lay there, side-by-side, staring at the ceiling as you wait for your breathing to return to normal. It’s him who finally breaks the silence, because it always is.

“That was -”

“-amazing,” you finish breathlessly, turning your head on the pillow towards him. It’s a tiny bed, and you’re practically nose-to-nose. He’s smiling softly, still blissed-out from what happened only moments ago.

“So… what you said,” he says quietly. “Did you mean it? Like, really mean it?”

And he looks terrified, like your answer might break him, and it makes you want to cry. You want to crack open your chest and draw him inside, keeping him safe right next to your heart. You reach across and gently brush your fingers along his face, ghosting over his cheek and jaw.

“Yes,” you whispered. “Of course I did. I think I have for a long time, Steve.”

His face crumbles, and he sighs with relief, turning up to kiss your palm.

“Did you?” you ask, anxiety creeping into your chest. You’re not even sure if he remembers when he said it last year. He looks confused, but only for a moment.

“Wait - did I - I did, didn’t I?” he says, shaking his head incredulously.

“When I said that, I - it was in the moment, and I almost swore I didn’t - I’ve played that moment, that entire night, in my head almost every day. And - and never knew for sure if I actually said what I felt.”

You feel your heart flutter, your stomach doing somersaults.

“So - you meant it?” you ask cautiously.

He smiles again, big and wide, and gently presses his lips to yours.

“Yes,” he breathes. “I’ve loved you as long as I’ve known you. I was just waiting for you to catch up.”

“Since we were five?” you ask, feeling like the wind has been knocked from your lungs. He just nods. You nuzzle your nose into his, and softly whisper, “Well, I love you too, Steve Harrington.”

LATER, WINTER 1989

It’s loud, warm with bodies, and hazy from smoke - you make you way through the crowd, drink in-hand. You glance at the clock - it’s 11:57, where is he -

“Hey you!” a voice shouts. You laugh as RObin slings her arm around you, pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek.

“Hey!” you laugh, pulling her close into a side hug. “Where’ve you been?” 

“Well, I was talking to Nancy, but there’s only so much canoodling with Jonathan that I can handle.”

You chuckle, glancing over at where the couple stands in the corner, practically devouring each other.

“Well, where’s Vickie?” you ask, searching over the crowded living room.

“She went to get more champagne, but I don’t - oh! Look, they found each other!”

You follow her gaze, and settle on Robin’s redheaded girlfriend - talking to Steve. You relax at the sight of him, even though he had been by your side only a few minutes ago. He smiles when you spots you, holding out an arm to wrap around you as you sidle up to him.

“Hi,” he says softly, quietly enough that you hardly hear him over the music. 

“Hey, you,” you reply, earning a kiss on the crown of your head.

“Is it almost time?” you ask. Robin glances at her watch, and practically jumps.

“Oh, gosh, yeah! Okay, everyone!” she shouts, scrambling to stand on a chair. Most of the room directs their attention to her, raising their glasses and letting out a few whoops and cheers.

“Alright people, grab someone pretty, make a few resolutions - and say goodbye to the 80s!”

Everyone cheers, and Robin looks down at her wrist again.

“Okay! Ten! Nine -”

Steve pulls you close by your waist, gazing down at you like you’re his whole world. Though, you know that there’s a good chance it’s true. He brushes your hair to the side, and whispers, “Ready for 1990?”

You know what promises the new year will bring - you, starting your full-time job in New York, in the apartment that you and Steve are getting together, with the promise of always coming back to Hawkins for the holidays. A life, that you’re building together, after so many years of dancing around it. It makes sense that you’ve ended up here, ringing in a new decade after being a part of each other’s lives for nearly as long as you’ve known.

“Five! Four! Three -”

You grin, bringing your hand to the nape of his neck.

“As long as it’s you and me, Harrington.”

“ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!” Robin screams, followed by a series of applause and cheers.

Steve meets you halfway, and kisses you like he always does, enough that you melt into him like you’ll die if you aren’t attached to him. There’s no need to run anymore. Because, as long as you’re with Steve, you’re home.

Author’s note: well, that’s the end of TTDS. I’m sorry for the wait, but I hope it was worth it! I’m diving into my new Steve series next, and working through my inbox for some blurb requests. But, if you’d like to request prompts/blurbs based on this story, I’d be happy to do that - I think it’s be fun to see other scenes from throughout or after the events of this story. I appreciate every like, reblog, comment, and message - I read every single one. Let me know what you think of the story! Merry Christmas to all who celebrate, and I’ll see y’all in the new year!

Taglist: @cityofidek @decadentwastelandtrash @fallingwithoutcaution @selfdeprecatingnerd @scream-still-screaming @le-who-zer-her @freezaz123 @andrewgarfieldsupremecy @shireentapestry @divinelovers @thatstoomuchman @buckleysbitch @evansflowers @untoldshortsofthefandoms @godcreatoreli @hotelfohn @thesillynonsense @itsfloorcry @dullsocietyy @draynmelol @the-winter-spider @suniloli @livid-euphoria @iknowrocknroll @tsundere-exe @palmtreesx3 @boxofsmittens @bradleysgirl @etherealforever234 @jxackles

[jazzycurls]

You belong to me - part 4.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: It's a surprise 😉🤫

Warnings/Tags: 18+ minors dni! Cheating, angst, hurt & comfort, smut, mentions of stalking and pregnancy (let me know if I missed something)

An: Hi, you guys! I guess I'm not new to writing anymore, but I'm still a newbie. All feedback is welcome. Be gentle please haha. Please do not steal or copy my work. Don’t repost without credit. This is my written work, everything besides the characters and plot points by the original writers, belongs to me. Love you guys, and thank you so much for the support, hope you enjoy ❤

Word Count: 6,306

It's been exactly four weeks and two days since you last spoke to Eddie. Ever since that day you saw him and Chrissy together, you vowed to never let him hurt you again. It was tough going to school and dealing with all the rumors swirling around you, Eddie, and Chrissy.

Most people had called you a slut, others said Eddie was the slut who had corrupted you in some way and a few people said it was a hoax, unwilling to believe that Eddie The Freak Munson was able to date two women at once. You ignored the rumors, choosing to focus on your schoolwork so you could graduate and get the hell out of this town.

Clara was there beside you through it all and helped you brave the storm. You were forever grateful for her friendship, people like her are hard to come by and should always be cherished. You vowed to repay her as soon as you got the chance.

Eddie had tried his best to talk to you afterward. He had tried everything from following you around at school, showing up at your house, and calling you every night but you shot him down every time. The blinders were off and you wouldn't allow yourself to be fooled by him any longer.

You still loved Eddie but not enough to sacrifice your happiness. You vowed that you would never do that after witnessing the destruction of your parent's marriage. Your mother had spent many nights crying herself to sleep and now was a shell of who she used to be, throwing herself into her work to avoid her harsh reality.

They say that the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree because here you were, on your way to your new job at Family Video. You'd had the great idea to get a job to help keep you preoccupied. You've been working there for officially two weeks now and you loved it. It's a laid-back job with decent pay plus your co-workers were awesome.

You pull into the parking lot and park your car. As you make your way into the store the hairs on the back of your neck began to stand on end. You stop in your tracks as you look around the lot cautiously, heading into the store when you don't see anything strange. For the past few weeks, you kept having the strangest feeling that you were being followed. With Hawkins being notorious for people going missing and all of the strange occurrences, it was always best to be on guard in a town like this one.

"Hi, Y/n," your coworkers Robin and Steve echoed in union.

You raised a brow at them as you entered the store and went behind the sales desk. "Oookay, that wasn't creepy at all," you laughed as you placed your bag under the counter.

"What do you mean," they both asked in confusion.

"Okay, seriously guys, this is weird," you stated, getting slightly creeped out. With the weird feeling of eyes watching you at random times of the day, it didn't take much to put you on edge nowadays.

"Sorry Y/n, it was Steve's idea," Robin laughed, hugging you.

"Hey, not true! Don't believe her Y/n," he tells you as he hugs you as well. The bell on the door chimes, signaling the arrival of a customer as you are wrapped up in his arms.

You turn your head to see Eddie headed your way with his eyes trained on you. Steve lets you go to help Eddie as he places his items on the counter. His eyes are dark, nearly the color of coals as he glares at Steve.

"Harrington," he sniffs before turning to Robin with a bright smile. "Hey Robbie," he grins.

"Munson, if you call me that name one more time, I'm going to jam your precious guitar up your ass!"

Eddie throws his hands up in mock surrender "Yes ma'am," he replies jokingly. His gaze finally settles on yours "Hello Y/n," he whispers, his eyes soft and shining with emotion.

"Hi, Eddie." Your voice is monotone and your expression is indifferent, a severe contrast to the emotions raging inside of you.

Sensing the awkward atmosphere between you two, Steve steps in and picks up the movies Eddie placed on the counter. He taps a few keys onto the register and scans the barcode on the back of the tapes. "Alright Munson, it says here that you have an overdue late fee of $6.18 on your account. Would you like to make a payment today?"

Eddie begrudgingly looks away from you and turns toward Steve. He digs into the pocket of his jeans, pulls out a wrinkled ten-dollar bill, and hands it to Steve. Unable to stand the tension building, you busy yourself by going over to the romance section to organize the shelf.

Minutes go by, and you hear the soft footsteps of someone walking up behind you. You look over to find Eddie standing there with his hands shoved into the pockets of his well-worn jeans. You stand up and move to leave before he stops you.

"Wait Y/n, can we talk? Please!" he begs, his hands stretched out towards you blocking your exit.

You sigh deeply and shake your head, feeling your resolve break. "You have a minute," you relent, crossing your arms as you wait.

"Baby, what happened before," he begins, as he takes a step towards you. You take a step back, holding your hand up between you two.

"Sorry," he mutters sadly before continuing. "What you saw with me and Chrissy, it wasn't what it looked like. I was about to tell her that it was over between her and me when she —," he trailed off unable to continue. He couldn't tell you about the upside down. It could put you in danger and that was something he refused to allow to happen.

You lifted a brow expectantly as you waited for him to continue. Your patience was starting to wane thin.

"Um, she said that she um— that she needed me," he responded weakly. It sounded unbelievable even to his own ears. He sees your face drops back into a cold stare and his chest tightens in fear when he realizes how bad he's fucking this up right now.

"You have to believe me Y/n. It's just for a little while and this doesn't mean that I'm with her because it doesn't and I promise you she knows that." His words are rushed and awkward as he tries to convince you that his words are true.

"Times up Eddie." You turn to walk away and he grabs your hand quickly.

"Y/n wait, I'm telling the truth. I just need you to wait for me, please, at least until I sort everything out." His plea is desperate as he holds your hand close to his heart.

"Why should I Eddie? You haven't been honest with me not once this entire time! You won! You got what you wanted so just leave me the fuck alone." Your voice rises out of anger, causing Robin and Steve to throw concerned glances in your direction. You let out slow deep breaths as you attempt to reel your emotions back in.

Shock is evident on Eddie's face, which soon gives way to anger. If he was honest with himself he's never done well with confrontation. With his father mentally and physically abusing him throughout his childhood, he's developed a sort of defense mechanism, which makes him run away when he feels threatened. The hurt that he feels because you don't trust him makes him angry, not knowing how to properly deal with his emotions. He feels that he's been nothing but honest with you this entire time. If there was anything he left out it was for your safety, not so he could try and fuck you over.

"You know what, fuck this," Eddie grunts, as his feelings get the better of him. "You don't have to believe me." As the words leave his lips his heart breaks and regrets already spreading through him as he turns away from you, storming out of the store.

You want to call out to him, tell him that you were sorry for going off. You're not a confrontational person, so your reaction just now took you by surprise. Bile rises in your throat as you watch Eddie leave. You turn and run to the employee's lounge, slamming the door shut as you hurl your lunch into the toilet. Your fingers grip the wall tightly and you begin to dry heave once there is nothing left. Once your stomach settles you drop down onto the tiled floor, trying to catch your breath.

A few minutes go by when you hear a knock on the door. "Y/n, is everything okay?" Robin asks you from the other side.

"Yeah, I'll be out in a minute." Your voice sounds weak as you answer her. You rise to stand and go to wash your hands. Once you're done you splash cold water on your flushed face. 'What the fuck.'  You wonder as you gaze at your reflection in the mirror. Was this whole situation so stressful that it was making you sick? Or was it the thought of things finally being over with Eddie that made you ill?

You honestly didn't know but you refused to dwell over it any longer. Taking a deep breath you opened the door with a fake smile plastered on your face.

"You okay," Robin asks when you appear back at the counter.

"No, but I will be," you reply with a strained smile but you're not convinced you will be.

Steve takes in your appearance noting how squeamish you look, a stark contrast to how you were when you first arrived. "Hey Y/n, if you're not feeling well you can leave early if you want. I think Robbie and I can manage," he says earning a smack on the back of his head from Robin.

"Yeah, I think that's for the best," you say, laughing in response to their antics. You begin to pack up your things and give them both a hug before making your departure.

The fresh air of the evening does little to settle your stomach and the nagging thought of something you had forgotten in the back of your mind. You make a pit stop at the local mart, unaware of the eyes watching your every step.

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You sat on your bed with Clara, your fingers gripping the unopened pink box tightly. She listened intently as you told her the events of what happened a few days ago with Eddie. Her features shift with each detail you relay. Shock settles over her face once you end with the purchase you had made due to the absence of your period.

"Why haven't you taken it yet," she questions as she clasped your hand in yours. You blinked your eyes, trying desperately to stave off the tears threatening to escape.

"I'm scared," you admitted. "If I take this test, then it becomes real and then I'll have no choice but to deal with it." Your hands shake nervously, causing the box to fall onto the floor.

Clara bent down and picked up the box, pressing it back into your hands. "Y/n, this isn't something you can ignore. The longer you put it off the fewer options you'll have."

"I know, but what if it's positive? Things between Eddie and me are horrible right now. A baby will only complicate things even more." A few tears skip down your cheeks as your emotions began to overwhelm you.

"Whatever happens I'll be here for you okay? I'll even beat Eddie up for you if you want," she says, pulling you into a tight hug.

You laugh along with her as you hug her back. "I'll keep that in mind," you snicker as you get up from the bed, making your way into the bathroom. You close the door behind you and lean up against it. You take calming breaths as you read the instructions on the back of the box.

'Okay, remove cap and place tip into urine stream for five seconds. Replace cap, lay it flat, and wait for results, should be ready within five minutes. Seems easy enough,' you thought silently.

You will your hands to stop shaking as you unwrap the package and begin to follow the instructions listed on the box. Once finished you lay the test flat on the counter and began to wait. The seconds ticked by agonizingly slow and you become all too aware of the silence in the bathroom. The walls felt as if they were closing in on you with each minute that passed.

Your timer beeps on your watch, signaling that the test result was ready. Turning back towards the counter you eye the test warily. You could feel a trickle of sweat running along your spine as you start to perspire. 'This is crazy. Just pick it up and read it. It's not a big deal, it's not like this is going to change your life from this point in every single way.'

Exasperated, you sink down onto the edge of the tub. "Clara" you called out through the closed door.

"Yes!" She replied immediately, busting through the door.

You gesture towards the test on the counter. "I can't look," you said softly, letting your head fall into your hands. You stare at the patterns on the tile floor as you listen to her pick up the test.

A soft gasp fell from her lips making your blood run cold. "It's positive," she murmurs as she crouches down in front of you.

"Of course it's positive, I've never failed a test before. Guess I'm not going to start now huh." You laugh bitterly, shaking your head in disbelief.

"Y/n, it's going to be okay. Whatever you decide to do, it's going to be okay." She laid her hand on yours as you sat there in silence. "Are you going to tell Eddie," she asked.

"I don't know if I should. I mean, what would even be the point of that anyways? I don't want a pity relationship because he made the mistake of knocking me up." Your words come out heated and rushed as your anger washes over you.

"He deserves to know Y/n. Don't keep it from him because you're scared of what his response may be. You never know, maybe he'll step up, maybe he won't but you'll never know if you don't give him a chance." Clara's voice was firm and sure as she held your gaze.

"You're right, I'll tell him," you huff out a moment later.

She gives you a small smile before standing up and pulling you up along with her. "Fuck! Squatting like that made my legs hurt," she complained trying to shake the pins and needles feeling out of her legs. "I guess I'm getting too old for that now. Welp, no more blowjobs for Steve then," she jokes, crouching over and holding her back dramatically.

"Yeah right, I'll believe that when pigs fly," you laugh snorting obnoxiously as you follow her back into your room.

"You calling me a slut," Clara growls, her hand inching towards the pillows on your bed.

"Uh yeah. You and Steve are biggest the horndogs I've ever met," you retort grinning cheekily.

"You're gonna regret that Y/l/n," she yells, smacking you in the face with a pillow. You stand there for a moment in shock before springing into action, grabbing a pillow for your counterattack. Peels of laughter sound off in the room along with thumps from the pillow fight, giving you a welcome reprieve from the tough decisions sure to come.

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

Eddie sat perched atop his throne in the old theatre room, which was also their meeting place for all of their D&D campaigns. Drumming his fingers against the chipped wooden table, his patience began to wear thin as he waited for everyone to sit down and get situated. After a minute had passed, everyone was still talking animatedly to each other. 

"Can we hurry this along please!" he yelled out, causing the room to go silent as all eyes snapped onto him. "Thank you," he said once he had everyone's attention. He had called an emergency meeting weeks ago as soon as Chrissy had told him her dreams had returned. Due to conflicts of schedule and the matter of long distance for some, it had taken a while to get everyone back together again.

"What's going on Eddie? Why are we all here," asked Dustin.

"Vecna's back," Eddie replied somberly, getting straight to the point. A few gasps of panic flew across the room at his announcement.

"Are you sure? I mean— how do you know, what happened?" Nancy questioned, her eyes flickering with concern.

Eddie began to explain what Chrissy had told him that day, omitting the part with you in it. He didn't need everyone to know about his relationship with you when he was still trying to fix the damage he'd caused.

"So why isn't she here if she's so scared that he's after her?" Max's voice was low and her expression held a look of skepticism. Something about this situation seemed off to her but she didn't want to jump to conclusions just yet.

"She had cheerleading practice," Eddie replied rubbing a hand across his face tiredly. Between Chrissy hanging onto him like a leech every chance she got and you avoiding him like a leper, he felt as if he was losing his mind. He hadn't had a proper sleep in weeks and it was beginning to show. His eyes were dull, sporting dark heavy-looking bags underneath each one.

Murmurs echo around the room at his response. "I'm sorry man but I call bullshit. I've seen Chrissy around town and she didn't look scared to me," said Steve.

"Why would she lie then huh? If you have an idea, then by all means please share it because I don't have a clue!" Eddies hands grip the arms of his chair as he struggles to regain control over his emotions.

"Are you okay Eddie?" Robin asked. She had never seen Eddie like this before and it was starting to scare her a little. After witnessing the scene between Eddie and you, she had the sinking feeling that this all had something to do with one another.

"Yeah— I'm fine, just a little tired is all. Now, can we please get back to the matter at hand?" Eddie hated being so dismissive toward his friend but he wanted to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible.

"Well, I haven't felt anything from him. Honestly, I thought he was dead. I haven't felt this peaceful in a long time," Will replied in a soft voice.

"Me too," Max confirmed as others began to echo in agreeance.

"I think that settles it, dude. It sounds like Chrissy lied to you," Dustin said softly so only Eddie could hear him.

"I think you're right and I'm going to find out why." Eddies features were stony and everyone could see the shift in his demeanor. He adjourned the meeting, thanking everyone for coming and apologizing on Chrissy's behalf.

Before he left the room he tapped Robin on the shoulder, pulling her from her conversation with Steve. "Hey, I just wanted to apologize about earlier. I haven't been—, he started but Robin cut him off with a  wave of her hand.

"Don't worry about it. There are no hard feelings okay? Just go handle whatever it is you need to with Chrissy. To be honest Eddie, I never liked her anyways," she tells him with a smirk.

Eddie gives her a quick hug before taking his leave. He was on a mission as he made his way hastily to the gym, determined to catch Chrissy before she left. He wanted an explanation as to why she had lied and he wasn't going to leave until she gave him one.

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

Chrissy's friend Alice stood to the side of the bleachers anxiously. The loud voices of Chrissy and Eddie rang out sharply throughout the gym. Standing in the shadows, she wasn't trying to be seen until the time was right.

The words lying bitch could be heard clearly throughout the room followed by a resounding slap. Chrissy stormed by quickly tears streaming down her face. She passed by quickly, not seeing Alice standing in the corner. Once the double doors had closed, Alice stepped from behind the bleachers into the light. Eddie stood close by with his head hanging down, his hair hiding his face. She cleared her throat lightly, gaining Eddie's attention immediately.

"Jesus Christ! You scared the shit out of me!" He yelped, holding a hand over his chest. His heartbeat was erratic as he took a deep breath to calm down before he had a premature death. "What do you want," he asked warily after he had regained control of his breathing. He knew you only through Chrissy and had never spoken to you alone before. If he was a betting man, he would bet that Chrissy didn't know you were here, especially right after the fight they'd just had.

"Chrissy doesn't know that I'm here," she said confirming his suspicions as she looked over her shoulder cautiously. Eddie nodded in response and she continued, wanting to get this over as soon as possible. She didn’t want Chrissy to find out about what she was about to do.

"Chrissy's been lying to you, Eddie. She's been seeing Jason behind your back the entire time you two were together," she whispered.

When Chrissy told her that she and Eddie didn't have sex, she was in disbelief. The reason why became even more obvious when she caught them hooking up in Jason's car during school once. Jason had later told her with a smug look on his face that he and Chrissy had always maintained a sexual relationship even after she had gotten with 'The Freak'.

When she confronted Chrissy, she only shrugged with a coy smile, "I get what I need from Jason and Eddie, what's the big deal?"

Alice had told her that it wasn't right but Chrissy didn't want to listen to reason, only warning her to stay out of it before flouncing away, her ponytail bouncing perkily behind her.

"Wow, I mean what the fuck. I know I have no room to talk but for her to pretend to be so innocent when she's just as bad is fucking insane." Eddie's eyes were big as he ran his hands through his hair.

He had tried before to initiate a sexual relationship with Chrissy but she had told him she wanted to wait until marriage. He had accepted her decision, not wanting to pressure her into something she didn't want but he couldn't deny that the thought of why things were the way they were didn't cross his mind at times. Boys tended to talk and he knew that she wasn't a virgin because of Jason, so the new information just revealed to him, answered the questions he's had for a long time.

"Thanks for telling me," he said finally, looking over to Clara. "I know that couldn't have been easy."

"You're welcome, Eddie. I know I can be a bitch sometimes but I like to think that I'm still a good person," she said as she began to walk away. Before reaching the doors, she turned around to look over her shoulder at him. "Eddie be careful with Chrissy. She's not the same anymore and I'm afraid of what she may do if things don't go her way."

He nodded in response and watched as she walked through the doors, her ominous warning of Chrissy repeating over and over in his head.

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You're lost in your thoughts as you walk along the crowded hallways. You had spent the entire weekend trying to figure out how to tell Eddie you were pregnant. The last time you talked, it ended horribly and you were kinda ashamed to have to approach him again so soon. You were sure that after how you treated him, he didn't want to speak to you again.

As you neared your classroom a hand snatched you into a nearby closet, closing the door briskly behind you. "What the hell," you shrieked before a hand clasped over your mouth keeping you silent.

"Shhh Y/n, it's just me," Eddie whispered as he clicked on the overhead light.

You snatch his hand from your mouth, looking upward at him. "I knew that Eddie. You are literally the only person who snatches me into closets at random."

"Yeah, you're right," he says laughing awkwardly. He rubs the back of his neck as he takes a moment to look at you. It feels as if he hasn't gotten a chance to really look at you in forever. His heart flutters nervously as you stare back into his eyes. The speech he had prepared, long forgotten at the sight of you.

You were also experiencing something similar as you began to malfunction at being in such close proximity with Eddie. An apology sits at the top of your tongue for the way you treated him before but you quickly swallow it back down as quickly as it comes. "What do you want," you question once you finally begin to settle from the mental Olympics your mind is going through.

"I wanted to talk to you. I know that our last conversation didn't end well and I want to apologize to you." He takes a deep breath in an attempt to settle his nerves before continuing.

"I let my emotions get the best of me and I reacted poorly. I know that you're probably getting tired of me apologizing and I promise to do better— I want to be better for you. Whenever I'm with you, I feel better about myself. Even though we haven't had the chance to be together, I'm sure of how I feel about you. You don't have to worry about me and Chrissy anymore because I've handled that situation and it's completely over, I promise you. So please Y/n, please take a chance on me and I promise I won't let you down again ever." His eyes are big and wet as he looks down at you pleadingly.

You lean back up against the door as you consider his words. The fierceness in his eyes is endearing, making you want to believe him this time, but there is still a nagging thought in the back of your mind. You still feel that there is something that Eddie isn't telling you. Until you know the real reason he broke his promise and chose to stay with Chrissy, you can't forgive him just yet. "I want to trust you Eddie but for me to do that, you have to be completely honest with me. I don't want to start a relationship on a half-truth."

Something akin to fear flashes across Eddie's face before disappearing quickly. His features relax again as he takes your hands into his hesitantly, pulling you in closer. "Y/n— there's a lot of things that's happened in Hawkins in the past couple of years. A lot of things have been kept from the public for safety reasons," he pauses to make sure that you are still following him. "I'll tell you everything but I need you to keep an open mind okay? I know that what I tell you may be hard to believe but just trust me okay?"

You nod your head slowly as your heart begins to race. You're not sure what it is he is about to tell you but you have the feeling that it will change everything moving forward. Just as he opens his mouth to speak, the tardy bell rings announcing that you both are late for class.

"Fuck! Can you follow me to my house after school?" He says hopefully, resting his hand on the doorknob behind you.

"Yeah," you reply breathlessly as he leans in closer to you, resting his forehead against yours. Your eyes flutter close as his nose brushes against yours, his breath is warm as it fans across your face pleasantly.

The sound of the second bell rings and the moment is gone. Disappointment is clear on both of your faces as he pulls back, giving you room to move away from the door. "Later?" His eyes are bright, filled with hope and longing.

"Later," you smile squeezing his hand gently before slipping through the door. Eddie waits a second before taking his leave as well. His smile is big and wide as he walks into class, even after his teacher tears him a new one for being late once again, his smile never fades.

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

You rush out of class once the final bell rings and you head to the parking lot, eager to meet Eddie as planned. After you have your talk with Eddie, you'll have to go straight to work, so you're grateful that you were able to get the car from your mom this morning. You spot Eddie in the crowded lot once you make it to your car. He gives you an excited wave and you wave back with a shy smile.

You both enter your cars and you began to follow him as he leaves the school. As you're driving out of the lot you pass by Chrissy standing near her car. She stares at you with a blank expression as you pass by. Your eyes meet and you hold her gaze before looking away to safely follow the traffic.

"Crazy bitch," you mutter under your breath. You shake it off mentally, you refuse to let her ruin the good mood you were in. You're anxious about what Eddie is going to tell you. Optimism is flowing through you and you can feel your walls lowering for what could be. You hope that he'll be receptive to the news you have for him as well.

Your hands begin to shake as your mind wanders at what his reaction will be. You had planned on telling him today but you're not sure you'll have time after he reveals whatever the secret is he's been holding in.

Before you know it you are pulling into the trailer park behind Eddie. You follow closely as he passes by several trailers before pulling into what you assumed was his home. You park behind him and get out of your car.

Eddie walks over to you with a smile, taking your hand into his, and leads you up the steps. As you both enter his home you notice the trailer is a little on the small side but has a homey feel to it that you find charming.

"Welcome to my humble abode," Eddie says bowing at the waist as you walk into his room. You giggle in response as you sidestep some articles of clothing and stand awkwardly beside his bed. His room is for the most part clean, albeit a little disorganized.

You're not sure if you should sit or stand so you choose to wait for him to tell you what to do. You act as if you're strangers as if Eddie hasn't been inside of you and made you cum in almost every way.

Eddie closes his door, kicking off his shoes. "Make yourself comfortable sweetheart, mi casa su casa." He takes a seat next to you on his bed and takes your hand into his.

"I'm so happy you agreed to listen to what I have to say. I was afraid that you would never talk to me again after last time," he says honestly. He feels happy but also nervous for what he is about to expose you to. He knows that everyone will be pissed at him for getting you involved but he could care less. At this point he would do anything to get you back, he would even travel through Mordor unarmed for you.

"Me too Eddie," you reply sweetly. Your heart skips a beat as he presses a kiss to your knuckles. "Eddie, before you begin, I just want to say I'm sorry for how I acted the last time we spoke. It wasn't unnecessary and I said some things that I didn't mean." Your head drops down and you look at your lap, unable to meet his gaze.

He lifts your chin with his ringed finger. "I already forgave you, baby. There's nothing to apologize for," he whispers against your hand still pressed to his lips. You smile as a heated flush creeps up your neck and settles on your face.

Eddie smiles at your response before he begins "As I said before sweetheart, what I'm going to tell you may be hard to believe but just know that everything I say is the truth." He licks his lips as he prepares to tell you the truth about Hawkins.

His eyes are wide, filled with warmth that eases any doubts you may have had before. You nod your head and you listen intently as he begins to tell you a tale so bizarre that it sounds like it's straight from a movie scene.

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

You wave goodbye to Robin and Steve as you walk across the dark parking lot toward your car. Your mind races as you fumble with your keys to unlock the car. Hours have passed since your conversation with Eddie but you're still in shock.

The story he had told you felt too bizarre to be true. But when you sat back and thought about all of the strange occurrences that's happened, his explanation was more reasonable than what the media had portrayed. You were correct before when you thought that you wouldn't have time to tell him your truth. He had taken hours to go over everything with you and by the time he was done you were late for work.

You promised that you wouldn't tell anyone about what he had revealed to you, including Steve and Robin. He wanted to keep everyone oblivious to the fact that you knew everything, for now. You smiled to yourself, the way he worried over your safety made your heart clench in happiness and hope that he would be open to what you had to tell him.

A noise startles you from behind and you drop your keys in fear. You were on edge and every little sound was making you jump. Bending down you scoop up your keys swiftly, fear pumping through you as you slot your keys in the lock. You climb into your car swiftly, slamming the door behind you.

Your heart is pounding as you look behind you out of your car windows. For a moment there you could've sworn that you heard footsteps behind you. Taking a deep breath you start your car and head back to Eddie's house. He had invited you back to his house after work once you told him that you had something important to tell him as well. Your mom was out of town visiting family and you hoped that if things ended well, you could spend the weekend with Eddie.

So wrapped up in your thoughts you didn't see the car behind you until it slammed into you, causing you to swerve hazardously before regaining control.

"What the fuck," you yell in surprise. Your eyes fly to your rearview mirror and you're blinded by the harsh light reflecting from the beams.

You realize with a start that the reason you didnt notice them was that they didnt have on their lights until just now. They obviously didn't want you to notice them until it was too late. The car behind you rams into you again and you jerk forward from the impact. A cry leaves your lips as you step on the gas, you have to get away from this person before they kill you.

The other car is right on your tail as you bend the corner dangerously. Sweat coats your entire body as your adrenaline skyrockets. No matter how fast you go, the unknown assailant is right behind you.

The roads are dark and empty as you both race along the paved road. You cry in relief when you realize that you're a few minutes away from Eddie's house. No sooner than the thought enters your mind, they slam into you violently, and the wheel jerks as you lose control of the car. Your car veers off the road and your wheels screech as you skid across the pavement. A silent scream leaves your mouth as you realize that you are headed straight for the treeline.

As you brace for impact, your last thoughts are of Eddie, how you didn't get to tell him you were pregnant and that you never got the chance to tell him that you loved him. Your thoughts are filled with him as glass breaks around you with a sickening crunch and everything fades to black.

Taglist: @bibieddiesgf @tlclick73 @seventhlevelofhell @emmysuebull22 @adequate-superstar @vintagehellfire @sidthedollface2 @blue-eyed-lion @hazydespair @fly-on-the-wall @nicolaj1978 @sinczir @starrywhitenight @merciiss @hanahkatexo @kellysimagines @hargrovesswifee @simp4rengoku @igglepiggle22 @isimpforeveryonee @urdad-hot @thikkiesixx @billyhargrovesfuturewife @sammararaven @yogizzz

[harringtown]

the stars that light the road

a/n: the writers block has been Real these last few weeks and im basically in the middle of 3 fics so I just said screw it and set them aside for the moment and started something completely new to try and trick writing brain and it definitely worked cuz I word vomited like 3 thousand words <3 

requested by anonymous

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: the reader comes to take care of Steve after star court (aka the guy who takes care of everyone is actually taken care of for once, plus some love confessions ofc)

word count: 2.7k

warnings: cursing, blood/injury mention

-

Steve’s house always felt empty to him as a kid, even during what he ironically refers to as the golden years. Aka, the years before his parents realized how little they cared for each other and for him, when they were home every day—and every night.

When the world almost ended the first time, Steve was grateful for his hollow halls. If his parents weren’t around, they couldn’t get hurt, and they couldn’t ask any questions. He felt that way the second time, too.

This time, though, round three, coming back to a big, dark, empty house only makes his wounds ache fiercer. Every step and breath as he heads through the halls, flipping on every single light in every single room, echoes louder than Steve thinks it should.

Maybe he should have gotten checked out by the EMT’s.

Once he’s lit the house up bright enough to be seen from the moon, he just sits down on the bottom step of his staircase. He suddenly doesn’t care about the ratty, blood-stained uniform he’s wearing. Or the fact that he reopened the cut above his eyebrow and blood is actively trickling down one side of his face and falling in tiny droplets onto the stair.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

He should track down his first aid kit. He should do a lot of things. Instead of doing a single one, he just sits.

Getting up would mean dealing with everything that’s happened and doing it alone, again, like always. And he’s tired. Every time he closes his eyes he sees that Russian doctor’s face, and he swears the electrical hum of the base followed him home.

He’s not sure how much time has passed when the knock echoes on the door a few feet in front of him. He jumps to his feet, immediately pissing off his injuries, and blinks the haze out of his eyes as he unlocks the door.

He doesn’t even stop to consider who might be on his porch, mostly because it can’t be anyone but a random neighbor or a mailman who is running ridiculously late on his route.

It isn’t a mailman or a neighbor, though.

It’s you. Your hair still damp from a shower, wearing sweats and an old Hawkins High hoodie, with ugly bruises cresting across any bare skin. Standing on Steve’s front porch a few hours after he left you in the parking lot of what used to be Starcourt Mall, and is now a pile of smoke and ash.

And he has no goddamn clue why.

“What are you doing here?” Steve asks, craning his head to peer around you. He isn’t sure what he expects to see—a monster running behind you—but it isn’t a calm, empty street. It isn’t a peaceful, quiet night. “Did something happen?”

You frown, brows twitching. “What? No, nothing happened.” You clear your throat. “I just—I wanted to make sure you were okay. Y’know. After everything today. I figured I’d check up on you.”

An unfamiliar sensation blooms in Steve’s chest. It starts out warm, but burns hotter and hotter as it crawls up the back of his throat and cinches it shut. He swallows forcefully, and he can still taste the metal twinge of blood.

“You figured you’d… check up on me?” The words have a meaning, but Steve can’t quite attach it.

“Uh, yeah,” you say. You press your lips together and rock back and forth on your heels. “You almost died, like, multiple times today.”

He remembers. His throat is still raw from begging.

“Huh. Must have slipped my mind,” he says, forcing one side of his mouth to lift, though he knows the half-smile falls flat.

“Yeah, well, you got hit pretty hard in the head. A bunch. I’m not surprised.” Your lips pull in a tiny smile as you speak, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. There’s something rigid to your expression and stance, and if Steve didn’t know better, he’d say you’re worried.

But he doesn’t know what’s left to worry about. The Mind Flayer is a pile of melted goo, and Billy is dead, and for now, the Upside Down is dealt with. All that’s left to do is pick up the pieces, but none of those pieces are here.

“So, can I come in?”

Steve says yes, because he doesn’t have a reason to say no. He never has when it comes to you. He steps back and out of the way, letting you slip past him and into the house.

And he swears, somehow, the cold house gets a little warmer with you inside it.

“You still haven’t treated that?” you ask, gesturing to the bloody mess of his face. “Steve—”

“I was getting to it,” he says. He locks the door behind you, using the second he’s turned away to compose himself. He’s still not sure why you’re here—you told him, but he doesn’t get it. Like, of all the people you could check up on, how did you end up here?

“Getting to it? Jesus—” You flutter about him like a frightened hen, hands ghosting up and down his arms, across his chest, over the dried blood and the slashed fabric. “You’ve got to get out of these clothes. Take a shower. God forbid something gets infected—”

“It’s not a big deal,” Steve says, lightly swatting your hands away.

“It’s absolutely a big deal,” you say. “In the last twelve hours, you’ve been held captive, interrogated, drugged, and also, part of a pretty bloody battle. It’s a big deal.”

“You were there, too,” Steve says lamely. As if he needs a reminder. The only thing that hurt more than being hit was watching it happen to you and not being able to do a damn thing to stop it.

“Uh-uh. Don’t even try that.” You shake your head. “You don’t think I know your game?”

“Game?” Steve asks.

“In the base. Anytime those guards so much as looked at Robin or me, you started running your mouth, pissing them off enough to draw the fire so it didn’t burn us. You’re the reason all I have to show for the day are a few bruises and scrapes.”

Steve’s lips part, but he can’t find any words to say. He’s just shocked you caught on. He shouldn’t be, but he is.

“I—” Steve starts.

You cock a brow, and Steve gives in, shrugging his shoulders.

“Better me than you or Robin,” he says. “I’ve been through worse.”

Except, he’s not so sure that’s true anymore. He’s told himself those words so many times, after each horrible, nightmare-inducing thing, but the truth is, each time is worse than the last.

That pattern doesn’t exactly bode well for him.

Your lips pull into a thin line. Steve can’t read your expression, but it makes something deep in his chest ache.

“I’m gonna ask you a question, and I want you to tell me the truth,” you say.

“That’s not ominous, or anything,” he says, trying at casualness like it’ll erase his blood and bruises.

“I’m serious,” you say.

Steve exhales sharply and says, “Shoot.”

A line forms between your brows.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

And he has no clue what to say.

The Steve who opened the door to you tonight is in no way the Steve from high school, who was confident and smooth and knew exactly what to say, but he’s still partly that guy. And if the situation was reversed—if it was him at your door, you with the injuries—he’d have this in the bag.

But no one has ever shown up at Steve Harrington’s door simply to make sure he’s okay.

Maybe that’s the reason he tells you the truth.

“No,” he says. “I’m not.”

Something inside him breaks as he says the words. Like he’s been held together by a clump of string for years, and the last one finally frays and snaps.

A sob climbs up his throat, and he tries to swallow it back down, but before he can, you’ve crossed the foyer and wrapped your arms around him. You bury your face in his chest and your fingers curl tight into the fabric of his shirt, and you’re warm and soft and even if you still smell a little bit like ash, Steve doesn’t care.

He stops fighting it. Lets all the horrible feelings, all the fear and loss and grief and regret, out of the cage he’s kept them locked in. He doesn’t even care how he must look, shaking in your arms, tears streaming silently down his cheeks and into your hair.

But you don’t seem to care, either, just holding him tight and whispering, “I’ve got you,” over and over. And he believes you. Just for a minute, in the dim front room, he believes you.

Eventually, Steve forces himself to extricate his limbs from yours, and he has to pretend the sudden loss of touch doesn’t sting. He’s already crossed all the lines he set so he wouldn’t ruin one of the few friendships he has.

“Look, it was cool of you to come over, but you really don’t have to worry about me. I’m fine. Or, I will be. I always am, you know—” Steve waves at nothing, both his hands raised.

“Stop.”

Your fingers close around his wrists, stilling them in their wild gesturing. Steve freezes, too, eyes snapping to yours.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Where’s your first aid kit?” you ask.

Steve sighs. “Bathroom.”

“Lead the way.”

-

You don’t leave after Steve’s many wounds have been disinfected and messily bandaged. And you’re still there when he gets out of the shower you order him into; he comes back into his bedroom to find you digging blankets and spare pillows out of the back of Steve’s closet.

It’s a clear message: you’re not going anywhere. Steve is so damn grateful he doesn’t have to ask for the company, he could kiss you.

Add it to the long, long list of reasons Steve Harrington wants to kiss you.

He stands in the bathroom doorway a moment, just watching you for a half a shorter longer than is not-creepy, before clearing his throat. You turn and a smile lifts your lips. Still, there are deep bags under your eyes, and your movements as you make a bed on the floor are slow, like you’re sore.

“You’re not sleeping on the floor,” Steve says, leaning a hip into the doorway and folding his arms over his chest.

“What, are you volunteering?”

“Me? Not a chance,” he says. “If you remember, I was held captive, interrogated, and drugged today.”

You roll your eyes at his

“So, you’re kicking me out, then?”

“No,” Steve says, and loses all his confidence. He clears his throat. “I mean, my bed isn’t exactly small, and we’re both mature adults, so I figured we could handle—” He gestures wordlessly, hoping he doesn’t have to finish the sentence.

To his relief, you just nod a few times, suddenly refusing to meet his eye.

It’s quiet as the two of you flutter about before sliding in on opposite sides of the bed. It’s awkward, but not as awkward as Steve expects.

It’s more awkward because it feels normal. It feels like getting into bed with you is an action he was always meant for, and he doesn’t mean sex.

He means, a little house and a white picket fence and his glasses on the bedside table. A stack of your books on the other and your shoes on the floor at the end of the bed and a little dog or cat that you and Steve named something goofy.

A beautiful little life, and it starts here, with him climbing silently onto a creaky mattress with you tonight to do nothing other than sleep.

Maybe he got hit harder in the head than he realized.

You and Steve lay flat on your backs, hands at your sides, only a few inches between you despite Steve’s earlier boasting about the bed’s size. If he moved, or you did, you’d be touching.

“I really thought you were going to die down there,” you say after a few minutes of quiet. Steve wasn’t sure you were still awake. “I thought they were going to kill you. Robin and I didn’t know what they were doing to you, but every few minutes, we heard your screams, and I swear—” You stop. Pause. “It scared the hell out of me.”

Steve doesn’t know what to say. Before he can figure something out, you go on, “If something happened to you, if I actually lost you, I don’t know what I’d do.”

And now Steve really has no clue what to say.

“You’d be okay,” he says. “And you don’t have to worry about me. You really don’t.”

“Yeah, I do,” you say. “Because if I don’t, who will?”

Steve stiffens. “I don’t need anybody’s pity—”

“It’s not pity, you idiot,” you say, angry and Steve isn’t sure why, isn’t sure what he said to piss you off. “I mean, three years now, I’ve watched you put everybody else first. You throw yourself in front of every single bullet from every single gun. And then, at the end of the fight, nobody… thanks you for it. I mean, you’re the only person who never really had a stake in this fight, but you stayed, because it was the right thing to do. Seeing people take that for granted, over and over, it kills me.”

Steve is quiet for a moment.

“What do you mean, the only one without a stake?” he asks. He rolls onto his side to face you, and though you dart a glance his way, your gaze drifts back to the ceiling.

“I mean, this all started with Will Byers, right? So, it makes sense that Mike and Dustin and Lucas were part of the fight. And then there’s El, which is self explanatory. Nancy and Jonathan were in it for their brothers. Joyce for her kid, and Hopper for Joyce. But you, Steve Harrington, you let Dustin into your car, and you drove onto the battlefield, and you never left. Haven’t you ever wondered why that is?”

“Because I’m an idiot, or I have a death wish, or both?”

“Funny,” you say. “You’re a good man, Steve. I really wish you could see it. I wish everyone could see it.”

“Me too,” he says quietly, so quietly he’s not sure he can hear.

You inhale. “You make me so mad sometimes, you know.”

“Not really a shock,” Steve says. “It’s kind of my thing.”

“No, that’s not—I don’t mean that. I mean, yeah, sometimes, but—” You turn your head and meet his eyes. This time, you don’t look away. “But you’re one of the smartest, toughest, bravest people I’ve ever met in my life, and I love the hell out of you for it, and it pisses me off because you still just see yourself as this asshole who deserves all the crap that comes at him. And you don’t.”

Affection swells in his chest, and it’s so big he can barely breathe, but it’s the best feeling in the world. He doesn’t even decide to kiss you. One second, he’s on his own pillow. The next, he lifts a hand to your cheek and lifts his head, leans in, presses his lips to yours.

And you kiss him back. You roll toward him, into his arms, and your hands are in his hair and your breaths are hot and uneven against his lips, and hell, all the alcohol and drugs in the world have nothing on you. Steve thinks he could do this forever.  

It’s only when his brain starts to turn itself back on a few minutes later that he breaks away, forehead dipped against yours, and says, softly, “I love the hell out of you, too.”

You tilt your chin up, mouth finding his again, and you’re both smiling, limbs entangled and sheets twisted around you.

“And I kind of like when you take care of me,” he whispers.

“Good,” you say. “Because you should get used to it.”

“That sounds like a promise.”

“It is,” you say, “and I intend on keeping it.”

And though Steve hasn’t seen much but broken promises, he believes you. He kisses you again, and he can taste the truth on your lips.

-

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[fandsart]

I was going to just write this, but I don't have a lot thought up for how exactly it would go and I already have so many things on my To Be Written list, so I'm just going to make it a prompt and encourage anyone who'd like to to write it instead

So I'm sure most of us have probably seen the experiment Steve concept, Steve with powers escaped the lab or whatever. I've seen this go a few ways. Either Steve having escaped as a kid and been taken in by the Harringtons for one reason or another, this usually gives insight into his actions in season 2 and not wanting to interfere because he knows exactly what the government is capable of.

The other way I've seen it is Steve's parents having a deal with Brenner when he was a kid to give him abilities, but he failed to manifest them, or the abilities manifested in a way they didn't anticipate so they just missed it. He was young enough that he doesn't really remember it, so he gets to live a normal life and he eventually figures out he has powers on his own

So what about Steve as a failed experiment (and with this exact premise I do prefer actually failed, but it could also go in the direction of perceived failure as is in the second type I've described)

The reason we never see his parents is because they don't really technically exist. Everyone knows of them as this powerful family who are in and out of town and never seem to be seen. They're kind of an urban legend. People see their car in the driveway and someone clearly takes care of Steve, but no one really sees who it is. And he makes reference to them all the time, and they clearly make a real impact. Steve telling Nancy not to tell the cops about the beers because his dad would get mad, or him later getting cut off

Steve's "parents" being Brenner and his (non-canon) wife. I mean, Brenner probably does just live in Hawkins right? There are two ways this can go, Steve knowing he's a failure and growing up being shamed about it, or him actually thinking Brenner is his dad, and I mean come on Brenner seems very business oriented. He wouldn't be around that much. Even if he doesn't shame Steve about his failure because he knows he doesn't remember, it's still very clear to Steve how ashamed he is of him

It becomes both easier and harder to maintain after people think his Brenner persona is dead, because he doesn't have to maintain them separately, but he still needs to be away often enough that Hopper doesn't spot him and realize what exactly has been going on. It's been hard enough to stay out of sight and still known in such a small and talkative place as Hawkins

And then just eventually, during everything, Steve sees a of Brenner, or sees Brenner himself. This is why I didn't write the story out myself, because I don't have the details or timeline down, but everything coming into light and the party finding out that Steve was raised by the same abusive and manipulative man who raised El and everything that means. Steve and El becoming closer

[c-is-for-circinate]

I would love to hear more mike wheeler - Steve Harrington masculinity thoughts (also whatever happened to Hopper to make him action guy my beloathed)! Also will we get a mike chapter for and they were married?

Okay yes! I am fascinated by Mike and Steve as narrative contrasts, and I always find myself looking for fic where the two of them meaningfully interact, and I keep meaning to write about them.

(Also: Mike deserves his own chapter of that fic, but he's getting folded into Dustin's. What Mike really deserves is his own fic that takes place in that universe, because I know what his deal is there and it's a doozy, but that is a very different post.)

Anyway! For starters, I don't think that Steve and Mike are intentionally meant to be foils. There's an element of it in the first season, where Steve exists to support Nancy's character, and Nancy and Mike are meant to be foils -- Steve is the Popular Kid, the antithesis of Mike and his friends' little group of nerds, he and Tommy and Carol are written into the same category as Troy but older and less actively murderous, and the fact that Nancy's dating him says things about her -- but they end up occupying oddly similar spaces and cool parallels come out of that anyway.

A core thing about it is that Steve and Mike are both the guy in their respective age group casts on the show. The Guy. The central one, the normal one, the presumed-to-be-straight one -- and yes, this is fandom and we have Opinions about that, but the Duffer brothers think they're both straight, and that matters here. They're white, they're able-bodied, they have money. They are, in a sense, normal.

Narratively, they very often act as central/POV character for scenes they're in, at least once Steve gets past the fistfight in S1 and awakens to the fact that he's a person who can make decisions. And that makes sense, because being The Guy also means they're the closest to the classic TV protagonist archetype, the guy who does the hero shit and gets the girl in the end. Hopper is also The Guy, and always has been: in S1 it's just him and Joyce, but even as we add more adults, the only real challenge to his The Guy status is Bob (which is of course why Bob had to die). Murray is a bizarre conspiracy nut, and queer-coded besides that. Owens is an affable bad guy. Alexei and Dmitri and Yuri are all Russian.

Being The Guy comes with a certain amount of baggage. All three of them have to be romantic leads, and have to be crossed in love about it. All three of them are protectors in one way or another. And all three of them are on occasion assholes who have one hell of a time with sincerity and affection.

And this is where we get into Toxic Masculinity, because again, while I don't think the Duffers intended a pile of parallels between these three guys, well. Firstly, The Guy as an archetype is built on a pile of toxic masculine stereotypes, so that's often there to begin with. Secondly, it's the same writers, so certain themes rhyme whether they're intended to or not.

In particular, one of the core tenets of toxic masculinity, not just in ST but as a thing in the world, is when and where it's acceptable to experience soft emotions of affection, care, and vulnerability. The first rule of toxic masculinity is don't. The second rule, the caveat rule, is a little asterisk saying 'except, occasionally, with a female romantic partner, if you absolutely must.'

And so we actually see a lot of unfolding of this in Steve! One thing we know about Steve, without precisely being told, is that he's deeply lonely -- for a popular kid he sure seems to only have two Actual Friends when the show starts and they hardly seem to even like each other. He has a new Favorite Person every season, and he clings to them with the joy of a devoted golden retriever. His mental image of happily-ever-after is a house full of kids with enough siblings to never get lonely, family vacations about close quarters and spending time together. We never see his parents. For all a lot of the 'horrible abuse' fanon is very much fanon, Steve is inarguably a lonely kid. And where do we see him reaching out for affection?

It's not Tommy and Carol, although until they break up he's constantly in their company unless he's alone with Nancy. They hardly even seem to like each other very much, and yet they've stayed at his empty house enough for Tommy to know about his mother's fireplace and Steve to insist he do laundry while he's here. No, the person who Steve is allowed to feel things with and for is Nancy, because she's the caveat, she's the exception. This is why Steve is consistently focused on getting Nancy back, getting a new girlfriend, getting a date. That's the rule!!!

The really fabulous thing about Steve's arc across the first three seasons, and even into S4, is that this quest for romantic affection and vulnerability is both thwarted and rewarded again and again. He tries to apologize to Nancy, to win her back: by the time he sees her again, Nancy's got a new boyfriend, but Steve has a new brother. Dustin is Steve's favorite person by the start of S3; he gets Steve's haircare secrets, he gets Steve's loyalty, he gets Steve's joy. In S3, Steve tries to pour his whole heart into a different girlfriend, and Robin turns him down flat while also simultaneously opening herself up with such vulnerability that they instantly become best friends. Robin is S4's Favorite Person, but the great thing about these relationships being platonic is that Steve gets to have more than one! He gets to have both Dustin and Robin in his life! He gets the other kids as part of the package! Bit by bit, instead of a girlfriend who Steve is "allowed" to be soft with, Steve gains actual friends who he gets to be real with whether it's allowed or not.

And the really tragic thing about Mike Wheeler is that he's doing the opposite. Mike starts out with three friends, three best friends, absolutely devoted to one another. As kids, they're young enough to be free of most of the stranglehold of toxic masculinity yet, although of course it's starting. And then there's El.

Mike charts a really interesting course over four seasons, and the shape of it is not a straight trajectory from 'Mike adores and is BFF with Will' to 'Mike thinks only about El.' Hell, from what we see of S1, the Party are all best friends pretty equally before Will goes missing -- Lucas is the one ready to break into a government lab for him, not Mike. Mike's trajectory is far more 'I derive the bulk of my personal self-worth from protecting other people, and as soon as somebody needs to be saved I go fully into Paladin Mode, making me feel worthwhile and important." It just so happens that the two people in Mike's field of vision who most generally need protection and saving are Will and El. Which leads to Mike's intense Will-focused devotion in S2 (El is gone but Will is also in really significant need, and Mike just straight-up activates, jumping immediately into solicitously taking care of his friend because Something Needs Doing And I Can Do It). And Mike's intense El-focused devotion in S4, where El needs a literal quest to come and rescue her. And just a lot of Mike in general.

The problem with all of that is the part where, unlike Steve who keeps forging new platonic relationships, Mike keeps neglecting his more and more. The S3 Will fight is so good at illustrating that, because look -- we all know Will has a crush on Mike, but at no point during that fight does Will ask, even subtextually, for romantic attention. He's asking for platonic attention, which Mike is absolutely failing to give. "Where's Dustin right now? You don't know, and you don't even care." But as Mike says, they're not kids any more -- and this is how growing up is supposed to work!

(Note: I don't want to say that it's toxic for Mike to be in love with El, or really caught up in that relationship -- he's fourteen! she's his first girlfriend! he thought she was dead! But Mike's an asshole in S3 because he's caught up enough to not notice his friend's feelings until they explode at him, and yeah, I do think part of that is because he knows he's Not Supposed To.)

S4 is a lot, because here's where we're really seeing the culmination of a lot of what Mike's been unfortunately moving towards. We've hit a point where those vulnerable feelings that Mike's allowed to share, at most, with his girlfriend, feel like too much to even share with his girlfriend. He can't say 'I love you'. He can't even talk to Will. The conversation he does have with Will is honestly mostly about Mike and his feelings of inadequacy, of not measuring up, not being special, but it has to be couched in the context of El. If there's a reverse-Bechdel test to be done on S4, past the very first episode I'm pretty sure Mike fails it -- I don't think he has a single conversation that isn't about his girlfriend in one capacity or another.

In contrast, S4 Steve is, yes, pretty focused on girls-in-general and Nancy-in-specific, and yeah, there's a little bit of backsliding going on there. But he's also having conversations with Robin about her fears and longings, having weird little interludes where Eddie's the one bringing up Nancy rather than Steve himself. He's hurt at the end when Nancy is clearly still with Jonathan, but he's able to move on, to go fold clothes and care about Robin's love life instead of his own -- his optimistic happy ending in S4 is that his best friend is going to get the girl, not him.

I think there's a lot more to say, which I only brushed on briefly here, about other aspects of Mike and Steve that work in parallel or contrast -- their protector thing, which feels very intrinsic but shows up very differently in both of them, the way Steve says 'I love you' so easily and Mike has trouble saying it at all, the way they are both very much extremely normal guys, at least on paper. There's so much to say. I think that has to be a different post.

I will say, in terms of Hopper: Jim Hopper is what it looks like when those pent-up feelings that you aren't allowed to express to anybody other than a romantic partner sit and fester for decades. Fuck, there were things about Vietnam he didn't even tell his wife, that sat like poison both emotional and biological between them. When we meet him in S1, he's processing grief with drugs and drinking and processing fear with rage. He has spent so much of the past four seasons processing fear as rage.

Of course Joyce is the one person he's allowed to, sometimes, on occasion, be soft with. Of course nearly his every interaction with Mike is macho dominance posturing. Of course the entire trajectory of his relationship with El is a push-pull of Hopper retreating into authoritarianism and anger instead of the terror of honesty, and then getting to see the consequences of that when his daughter pulls away. Every season has broken him down a little more that way, but then the yo-yo pulls back (Season 3 whyyyyyyyyy). By Season 4, he's been beaten and starved and frozen and shattered enough that we get maybe the most honest monologue of his life, to a Russian prison guard, because they're about to die so what do the rules matter any more. It's a clear window into an endless pit of self-loathing, because for twenty or thirty years Hopper's been letting those feelings eat in instead of out, and bit by bit they've been devouring him.

El is hope, for him, and Joyce is hope, and the cracks that broke open in Kamchatka to maybe let in a little more air that might not seal right back up again are hope. But it's hard. It's hard! It makes him an absolute asshole, including and especially towards the people he wants most to protect. (And there's that protector thing again.)

Anyway, I am on the record as liking Steve a lot and having very little patience for Mike and Hopper, but like. They're not that different, at their core. They just put the pieces together in a different order.