#joe keery reader

[ssweetleaf]

babies.

husband!steve harrington x wife!reader

summary: you finally tell steve that you’re ready for a baby.

includes: SMUT 18+, breeding kink, not really a daddy kink but he refers to himself as daddy lol, mating press, creampie, unprotected p in v

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

“Hang on— what did you say?”

Steve felt as if he was dreaming, completely delirious, struggling to stay on his feet when his knees started to buckle.

He clutched a quivering palm to his chest, as if in attempt to quell his heart, but nothing could sate the thick thumping that barrelled through his rib cage.

You smiled at him, a small, impish one that made his eyelids flutter and you stepped closer, smoothing your hands along his shoulders before resting upon the thickness of both biceps, squeezing only slightly— just for your benefit, of course.

You knew it was something he’d desperately wanted to hear for a long while, so you spoke slowly, hoping the few words you spoke would register properly.

Because this was real. Such a big step, something that Steve had always dreamt of, but you not quite. It took a good few years for you to succumb to the idea of raising kids; a pretty house and a small wedding— even a few cats roamed around your home, so you knew that something was missing, something you now wanted desperately in your life.

“I want to try for a baby, Steve.” You spoke, watching his doe eyes grow even rounder, little tears threatening to ebb while he felt all melty and gooey, moving forward to shakily cup your cheeks and bring you closer towards him.

Steve nuzzled his nose against yours, sighing out a big breath and sponging a sweet, chaste little kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“I don’t know what to say, honey, I’m—” he shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut, his thumbs lazily circling the apples of your cheeks. “I’m so fucking happy.”

—

So, the two of you fucked like rabbits— for hours and hours, multiple times a day, the mere feeling of his raw length inside you had you creaming around him in minutes, and it was much akin for Steve, the soft, gummy walls of your cunt squeezing around him with no barrier between the two of you.

It felt like heaven.

Steve had insisted that you both have sex as regular as you could, the need to have you pregnant, to make it stick, needed to be quenched, and you nodded along like the doting little wife you were.

“My pretty honey,” he cooed, pressing your knees firmly against your heaving chest, holding you in a mating press whilst he fucked his thick cock into your spasming pussy.

Sweat beaded along his hairline, breathless from his hard thrusts— he had already came inside of you three times that same day, however you knew he wouldn’t let up until he saw those two red lines that told him what he’d wanted to hear.

“Gotta give you my babies, don’t I, hon?” He uttered, moaning breathily into the stuffy air— his full, round balls smacking against your ass with every inward thrust, so full of cum and ready to breed. “Gotta be thorough now, baby— want you nice ‘n’ round.”

He was babbling, words slurring into something almost nonsensical— his pretty lips sponged at any piece of skin he could find, mouthing and suckling with a desperation that shone in his honeyed eyes.

Your pussy practically sucked him in, letting his ruddy tip nudge at the spot so deep inside you, that had you clenching and fluttering.

“Fuck, jus’ wanna be a daddy so bad,” he whined, “and once we have our first, we’ll have another, and another, and another— oh fuck.”

He was fisting the pillow underneath your head, muscles drawn tight, trying so hard to keep his eyes open and not let them flutter closed— trying hard to keep his eyes on you.

“But don’t worry, honey baby,” he sighed with a smile, still thrusting as deep as he could, his thumb moving to rub at your clit. “You’ll still be daddy’s best girl— daddy’s favourite, I’ll make sure of it.”

You whined. He was so filthy, so crude, as soon as his big dick would slip inside of you he’d be gone, so stupid, completely pussy drunk. Silly boy.

“You ready for it, hon?” He cooed, nuzzling his nose into your cheek, “ready for my cum, pretty girl?”

You nodded, uttering a small ‘yes, Stevie’ through a moan and a sigh, clenching hard and quivering around him, ready to cum yourself.

The sheer need to be filled had you delirious.

“Yeah, gonna fill you up— gonna put a sweet baby in that pretty tummy of yours,” he hummed, “that sound good?”

“Sounds s’good, Stevie,” you whined, struggling to keep hold of your legs, your limbs shaky when you tried to keep your knees pressed against you. “Wan’ it so bad, want your cum— want your babies.”

He nodded fervently, hair whipping in every which way, dick throbbing in you hotly, the taut veins pulsing with every inward thrust— so, so close and ready to burst.

“I know ya do, hon— you ready to take it? You ready to take another load, baby?” He whined, squeezing his eyes shut, thrusts turning sloppy and erratic, “I know you’re so full, can barely fit anymore cum inside this poor pussy, huh?”

“Can take it, Stevie,” you spoke, fluttering your lashes, your lips all pouty and pink, “promise.”

And with one, two, three thrusts, he stilled inside of you, so deep, tip kissing your cervix before shooting his thick, pearly ropes of cum inside you, hoping to fill you with his Harrington prodigy, to make all the babies he could wish for.

Steve kept your legs raised, pulling them from your chest to place above his shoulders, keeping your back arched.

“Gotta make sure it takes,” he whispered, stroking at your calf before pressing a little kiss to your ankle. “think this is the one, honey.”

[eddie-van-munson]

What is my favorite Steve Harrington moment? Thank you so much for asking. It's "Oh..."

When Robin comes out to Steve, there is a moment where we're unsure about how he'll respond.

"But...Tammy Thompson's a girl."

"Steve..."

It's tense. He thinks for a moment, realizes what she means, and responds "Oh..."

There are so many ways that tiny little line could've been delivered. It could've easily portrayed disgust. It could've sounded surprised or confused or angry. It even could've been played for a laugh.

But somehow, Joe Keery managed to deliver that line in a way that is so unbelievably full of tenderness. It is soft and surprised, yes, but also comforting and apologetic. It's like he's realizing there's this whole part of her that he hasn't even noticed. It is understanding. It is empathy.

Every time I watch this scene, I can feel the tension that Robin is feeling, but I can also feel the relief that follows after that one little "Oh..." It's a far cry from the way we see Steve interact with characters in vulnerable positions like that in earlier seasons. Unbelievable amounts of growth are shelled in that "Oh".

How ridiculously impressive on Joe Keery's part that he was able to tell such a convincing story from one little sound. One of the most impactful examples of platonic love that I've ever seen in media. Maybe It sounds silly or like I'm reading too much into it, but I've always felt it so deeply no matter how many times I watch the show. It is so earnest.

[cerise-angel]

+18 boyfriend!steve x fem!reader

steve's eyes follow every movement of your body, the soft bouncing of your boobs, and the way your mouth parts in a moan. its a little too much, and he closes his eyes, his fingers digging in the flesh of your hips, his own hips meeting yours halfway in a desperate attempt to finally reach his high. he is almost almost there, and he knows you are too. you bounce on top of him with more speed, less precision and he's gone. or almost. before the pure bliss of a shared orgasm can crash on you two, your legs give up, hurting too much to keep riding your boyfriend. steve's eyes shot open, a little mean, about to fuck up against you, until he sees the look in your face. ashamed and almost crying. "honey. honey what is it?" you fall out of his lap, rolling on your tummy, not being able to look him in the face. steve gets worried. "baby, baby please, whats wrong?" "did i hurt you?" "do you want to stop?" whimpering, you turn to face him, his hands cradling your face at the same moment. "my legs started to burn. cant keep up." you state, voice a little shaky. steve chuckles lightly, meanly, pulling you to lay on top of him. you kinda want to punch him. "poor baby, cant keep bouncing on my cock forever, huh?" you bite back a moan and a mean comment, since he pushed his throbbing cock inside you again. "its ok honey, i can do the work." he taunts you, hips bucking on yours. you moan and get up from his chest. "just like that baby, dont worry bout it." he sits up too, big hands pulling you against him, so your chests are pressed together. he nips at your mouth, eyes glued on yours. "let me do it for you." and you let him, hips fucking you up with purpose and speed. steve keeps kissing you. his hands squeeze your boobs, your hands grabbing his torso, his back, his shoulders. its not long before you turn into a moaning mess, and steve loves it. "cmon baby, bounce a little for me, yeah?" and you do, his hands helping you up and down at the length of his cock. steve's almost there, and so are you. "a little more cmon. wanna cum with you." he starts babbling and you speed up with him. you're getting him to cum even if your legs give up. "wanna cum with you. yes baby. just, fuck, just keep, keep up with me." when you cum with a high pitched moan, he cums right after, spjlling inside you, whimpering against your mouth. he lays dramatically back, pulling you to him. "cant keep up huh?" he says in a playful tone. "shut it harrington."

[dorkszn]

𝓕𝓡𝓔𝓐𝓚𝓨 𝓞𝓝 𝓒𝓐𝓜𝓔𝓡𝓐

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

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

STEVE HARRINGTON

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

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

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

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

BILLY HARGROVE

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

02. passenger princess ( fem reader )

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

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

bonus. this video is just billy vibes

JONATHAN BYERS

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

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

03. letting you use him ( fem reader )

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

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

[theghostinyourwalls]

I can’t believe we’ve all been cropped out of these pictures

[lokis-army-77]

Make Room

Boyfriend! Steve Harrington x fem reader x College Roommate! Eddie Munson

Word Count: 2.6k

During an intimate moment between you and your boyfriend Steve, his roommate catches you and you decide to let him join.

Warning: 18 +. p in v, unprotected sex, fingering, cock warming? voyeurism, pet names, cum swallowing.

Thank you to @munson-blurbs, @lofaewrites, and @munson-mjstan for reading over this.

Masterlist

 "Are you sure we should be doing this? What if your roommate comes back?" Your question is muffled as your boyfriend expertly kisses you.

"We're fine." He grunts, his hands wandering over your body.

He's got you undressed, save for his t-shirt that had been pushed up to reveal you, and pressed into the sheets of his bed. The scent of him plumes around you as you writhe beneath him. His large fingers dig into your hips, bringing your core closer to him.

He's still fully clothed, in no rush to let you have what you've come to so desperately desire.

It started with soft touches under his blanket as you watched Netflix on the laptop propped up at the end of the bed. You tried to ignore the soft tips of his fingers climbing higher up your thigh. You had been startled when Steve's roommate, Eddie, who had been in the room the whole time, had announced he was going to meet some friends in the commons before heading out for dinner. That was five minutes ago.

"Stevie, he could come back any minute." You whined, arching your chest upwards when his fingers dipped through the wetness between your thighs.

"I think you like the thought of that. Of Eddie coming back and catching us." Steve grinned when he felt you shiver.

You couldn't lie, the thought didn’t terrify you as much as it should. Eddie was pretty, devastatingly so, with the grungey rockstar look that made your stomach flutter every time he so much as looked your way.

Steve speaks up again, a laugh filtering through his words. "You like it. I can feel just how wet that made you, baby."

You shy away, turning your gaze from him, embarrassed. He catches your chin with his other hand and urges you to look back at him.

"Nothing to be ashamed of, baby. Eddie’s a good guy, I'm sure he wouldn't mind joining us. I mean... I've thought about him fucking you while I watch more times than I care to say out loud."

More knots twist in your stomach. A moan rips from you from a combination of Steve's admission and his thumb rubbing tight circles over your sensitive clit.

You couldn't take it anymore. You needed him to be inside you. The emptiness you felt was like a gaping hole that only Steve's cock could perfectly fill.

"Please," you cry out. "Please, I need you."

Steve kept stroking through your swollen lips. "Need me where baby?"

You hated when he made you say it. It made you feel dirty,  but it turned you on so, so much.

"My-my pussy. Need you in my pussy Stevie."

"Yeah?" He hums.

You nod. "Yeah."

Steve takes his hands away from you, shushing you when you cry out at the loss. He quickly strips down, paying no mind to where his clothes go before he crawls on top of you—kissing his way up your body.

"Want you to ride my cock, love. Wanna see you make yourself come apart above me."

"Yes, yes, please. As long as you're inside me."

You scramble to follow his lead. Throwing your leg over his once he lay comfortably propped against his pillow and headboard. His cock was thick and hard, laying stiff against his abdomen.

Reaching your hand out, you grasp him. He's warm and practically throbbing. You tug gently over his velvety skin, pulling a delicious moan from his lips.

Steve beckons you forward with a finger and you hurry up his body. Your cunt rubs over his length, wetting it with your arousal. You both moan when Steve leans up to take your mouth in his.

"Fuck my cock, honey."

With that, you take him up in your hand, letting the tip slide through your wet folds before positioning him at your entrance.

Slowly, you lower yourself. The head of his cock pushes into you and the stretch has your mouth watering.

Steve's hands grip into your flesh and your moans meld together when he bottoms out. He is feeling you completely, you're stretched around him, taking him so deep.

You let your head fall back as you begin to rock your hips. Going slowly at first, feeling the pleasure rising between the two of you. Then your hips speed up a little, as you chace the feeling.

Steve's hand roams up to your breast, playing and teasing a peaked nipple. His other hand rests in the crease at your waist, helping you move.

"Feel so good Stevie, always feel so good." You feel close to tears as you feel his cock hitting the back of your walls.

You're so lost in the moment, distracted by what you're feeling, that you don't notice Steve's growing smirk or the fact that he's no longer looking at you but behind you. The only thing that clues you into the presence of someone else is the contrast of warm fingers and cold rings when they brush your hair away from the back of your neck.

You jump, freezing when you turn to see who was touching you.

Eddie Munson stood at the edge of Steve's bed, eyes wild and throat bobbing.

"Don't stop on my account sweetheart, I was enjoying the show." He smirks.

You move to get off your boyfriend but Steve keeps a firm grasp on your hips, urging you to keep moving. You don't fight it. The shock dissipates when Steve bucks up into you, cock knocking the breath from your lungs.

Eddie keeps his smoldering eyes on yours. His hand stays cupping the back of your neck. You cant your hips, starting to ride Steve again.

Theres something about being watched that has you coming undone faster than ever. Your legs stiffen and your back arches into Eddie's hold. Your mouth falls open in a long moan. 

"Fuck, Harrington- she is pretty when she cums." Eddie chuckles behind you and releases your neck, letting you fall forward on Steve's chest.  

"You should feel her when she does… Fuckin strangles my cock almost."

They were talking about you like you weren’t even there. It made your skin prickle and your stomach erupt in butterflies. 

You could see Eddie’s wide grin from the corner of your eye. "Oh, I’d love to… as long as you’re okay with that Sweetheart?" Eddie looks from Steve to you, all playfulness gone from his tone. 

Opening your mouth to speak, you find it hard to get the words to come out, so you nod. 

Steve tsks, "Use those words, honey."

Sitting up, you nod again. "Yes, I’m okay with that."

Eddie’s grin returns, his face less serious. "Then come here, Sweetheart." His hands trace over your skin, helping you off Steve. 

You let out a whimper as Steve’s cock slips from you, leaving you empty and wanting. Wasting no time you lay on your back, legs spread and heart racing. 

Eddie hums while stepping between your legs. He lets his hands smooth down from your knees, over your inner thighs, to your apex. He lets the backs of his fingers run over the sensitive skin and goosebumps begin to rise. 

You look over to your right, Steve is still in the same position, only he has his hand wrapped around his still-hard cock, pumping it slowly as he watches Eddie’s hands. 

A shiver runs through your body when Eddie’s middle fingers finally slip past your lips, into the sticky wetness and spread you open. He licks his lips as he stares at your center. 

"Such a pretty pussy. All pink and wet, just waiting to be ruined." His fingers massage into your slick skin. 

A short, quivering moan flows past your lips when he just barely glides over your clit. 

"Such sweet sounds too. Fuck- Steve how do you keep your composure when she makes noises like that?"

"It’s not without difficulty," Steve strains. You can hear the subtle, slick sounds of his hand moving over his cock. It has you trying to close your legs for relief, only to be stopped by Eddie’s body in the way.

Your hips roll upwards, searching for more. The emptiness you felt was consuming, and could only be sated by Eddie pushing himself inside you. 

"Eddie-" you whine, "please."

He tilts his head, watching your body write under his teasing fingers. "I'm not the one you should be asking, Harrington's in charge, Sweetheart."

You cut your eyes to Steve, questioning. He just raises an eyebrow.

Letting out a huff, you ask, "Steve, please. Please let him fuck me, wanna feel him."

Steve nods, "You heard her, Munson. She wants you to fuck her."

Your body is practically thrumming with anticipation. Eddie’s thumb circles over your clit one last time before pulling away. You try to sit up, reaching for his belt, wanting to help take his clothes off quicker. 

He stops you with a firm hand, pushing you back down. "Be patient, Sweetheart, you’ll have what you want in a second."

With hungry eyes, you watch his every movement. Your mouth waters when a trail of coarse hair is revealed, trailing down past the waist of his jeans and blue boxers. Your heart beats as he pulls the fabric lower, his almost fully hard cock is pulled from its place. He’s not as long as Steve but what he lacks in inches he makes up for in girth.

For a moment your eyes widen in surprise. How in the world is he going to fit? You ask yourself. You’ve never taken anything that thick before. 

Eddie, noticing the slight shake in your breathing, pets your leg and mumbles a soft, "You’re alright."

Then he gently takes himself in his other hand and taps the head against the swollen and sensitive lips of your cunt. You squirm at the teasing feeling.

The stiff dorm room mattress jostles you as Steve moves from lying down to o. His knees. His large hands roam over your Body, petting you almost. His fingers drag over the sliver of stomach showing from under your t-shirt. 

"Arms up honey." He tells you, and you listen, throwing your arms above your head. Steve then tugged the shirt off you, leaving you bare with two sets of hungry, lust-filled Eyes watching you. 

It's easier for them to see the hitch in your breath now. Easier for them to see how they are both affecting your body.  

Steve leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin as he whispers in your ear: "Beautiful," and your body shivers in anticipation. His lips trail down your throat, leaving a trail of what felt like molten lava in their wake.

Eddie, on the other hand, now guides himself into you. The stretch makes you burn, a different heat from Steve's n   kisses but just as pleasurable. 

Your body buzzes with the feeling of both of them touching you. Each of their large hands sends sparks through you, giving you goosebumps. 

"God, so fuckin’ tight. 

You reach out to him, fingers pushing on his abdomen, keeping him from pushing all the way in.

"Slow. Go slow." You moan. Eddie’s thickness made you feel like you were being split apart, even though you had been thoroughly worked out. 

He listens, pushing into you at a snail's pace until he bottoms out.  He groans and you gasp, feeling completely and utterly full. Eddie starts to roll his hips into you little by little. 

Your vision has gone hazy, everything is unfocused as the pain turns into pleasure. 

"Doin’ such a good job, baby." You hear Steve's praise from beside you. His hand still roams your body, teasing all the places he knows you are most sensitive. 

"Need more…" You tell both of them.  Eddie responds by increasing the pace, thrusting into you harder and faster. Steve's fingers dip lower and lower until they begin to rub into your swollen clit, his other hand tilting your head sideways. 

"Open your mouth, Honey." 

You oblige. Opening without question and humming in content when Steve's cock is placed on your tongue. He holds himself still, just letting you warm him as he uses his free hand to pump the length of him not in your mouth. 

You let free a long sigh, finally satisfied with how both men were touching you, filling up your holes. 

Eddie continues to pump deep inside you. Between his forceful thrusts and Steve’s lithe fingers, you’re on the brink. A layer of sweat has coated your body and your stomach feels like it’s in knots. Your hips are trying to move with the rhythm of their fucking you but Eddie’s hands hold you firm to the mattress. 

Moan after wanton moan leaves your stuffed mouth as you inch closer and closer to the edge. Your body begins to shake and your fingers and toes curl in on themselves as the amount of pleasure you are feeling. 

"That’s it, Sweetheart, take it. Take it like the good girl you are," Eddei hudds out between thrusts. 

"Gonna let go for us? Hum?" Steve asks.

You nod your head slightly, giving the head of his cock a firm suck, sending him into a whimpering mess. 

"Fuck." He seethes. "Not gonna last much longer."

"Me either." The other man says as his thrusts begin to lose their rhythm. 

Finally, the string inside you that’s been tugged on over and over has been pulled taut. Your back arches off the bed and a muffled scream of ecstasy flows from you as the string eventually snaps. 

"God damnit," Eddie moans, "She’s squizin’ me so fuckin’ tight. I’m gonna cum. Fuck, where do cum?"

Steve pulls out of your mouth before he speaks. "Ya hear that, Honey? Where do you want him to cum? Tell him."

You turn to look Eddie in the eyes and say, "Inside. Want you to fill me up."

Eddie grunts in what you imagine is a ‘thank you’ before he is finally spilling his load into your needy cunt. 

Steve removes his hand from your clit and brings it to his cock. "Keep your mouth open, baby, tongue out. He starts to tug himself faster and faster before he lets the spurts of cum fall into your waiting mouth. Greedily you swallow it all.

You three stay like that for a moment, fucked out and touching in any way you can. You can’t help the long whimpering whine you make when Eddie finally pulls out of you and Steve climbs off the bed. 

"I know, love, I know," Steve whispers before kissing you. "I’ll get you nice and cleaned up." He moves to the small bathroom in the corner and begins wetting a washcloth. Eddie follows behind him, filling up a cup with water and grabbing a bag of Doritos from the snack stash in one of his desk drawers.  

They both take care of you in tandem and you love every second of it. So much so that after everything, your eyes begin to droop and a big yawn escapes you. 

Steve takes his place behind you, pulling you into his warm body. "I think it’s time for a nap."

You hum in agreement. 

Eddie is quiet, then he clears his throat. "I guess I should leave you both to it. I’ll see you in a few hours, Harrington."

"Eddie, wait." Your words stop him before he can begin putting his clothes back on. 

"Yeah, Sweetheart?"

"Stay."

He looks from your half-lidded eyes to Steves, waiting for the ‘okay’. He’s almost giddy when Steve pulls the covers back, creating a space for him. 

He scrambles into the space, wrapping himself around you, and buries his face into your neck. You and Steve chuckle at him before the three of you finally relax into one another, settling down for a well-deserved sleep.

[eddiemunsonw]

Gossip in town

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You and Steve love a good gossip. There's some joy in talking about other people's misery to distract from yourself from your own miserable dating life, right? Besides, that's what friends do. Right? 'Cause that's what you are. Friends.

CW/Disclaimer: Uhhhh some s m u t. Other than that just romance, banter, cute shit. Maybe the cute shit deserves a warning too.

Author's note: We love to say that Steve enjoys to gossip, so I figured I'd drabble something out. Turned a little longer than planned!

Words: 4983

“You need to make him stop coming in here, he’s ruining our brand!”

As you heard Romaine, your colleague, complain, a smile plays on your lips. That could only mean one person.

Steve.

Romaine glared at him from behind the table she was folding clothes at and he raised his brow with little interest. His sailor outfit was a stark contrast to the high-end fashion you sold in the store you worked at and you thought it was the funniest thing ever. The first week, Steve had been too embarrassed to even leave the ice cream parlor. By now, he couldn’t give two fucks. And knowing Romaine hated it only made him come by twice as often.

“Y/N, Y/N!”

His impatient calls made you giggle and you revealed yourself from around the corner to put yourself into his field of vision. He gave a nod of recognition and then started to approach you with big steps.

“I’m taking my break,” Romaine announced, in an attempt to keep you from going anywhere. One person always needed to be in the store, and it was just you two that day. Steve knew about this rule by now, so he rolled his eyes, grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards the fitting rooms.

“Still technically in the store,” he mumbled, flashing you a grin as he took note that none of the fitting rooms were being used. With one smooth move, he pulled back a curtain, nudged you inside, followed and closed the curtain again behind him. He was a little out of breath, either from excitement or because he fucking jogged to your side of the mall. Must have been a sight for sore eyes.

“You were fucking right,” he hissed, not wasting a second as he spilled the tea. You covered your mouth to prevent a gasp and he pulled your hand away as he nodded. He needed not to tell you what, or who it was about. It had been the main topic of your latest gossip, so it was obvious he was talking about Ben Swimmer, one of his old classmates. Steve rested his palm flat on the wall behind you, kind of locking you into the corner of the fitting room.

“Yes, yes keep that mouth open, cause there’s more.”

His excitement was mixed with disgust, given by his expression. His fingers tapped a rhythm on the wall. You swallowed. Not sure if that had to do with the story at all, as you looked up at him.

“No… What is it?!” you asked impatiently. Steve smirked, loving to keep you on edge, and leaned a little closer because that’s what you do when you gossip.

“He wasn’t just cheating on Tessa with Vivian, but also with Brenda…”

“No…” you whispered, giving him a look of disbelief, mouth in fact still agape. Steve cocked his hip to the other side and nodded several times in a quick motion.

“Oh yes. He came into Scoops with her just now, in broad fucking daylight. And guess who also popped up at the mall?”

“Tessa. Of fucking course.”

Steve nodded.

“Tessa. So they’re sitting there eating their ice cream with two spoons, all gooey and sickeningly adorable if he hadn’t been a dick… when Ben sees Tessa, but she hasn’t seen him yet. So I’m watching, right, and suddenly Ben looks at me and tells me to let him go out the back with Brenda.”

“Oh now he wants to talk to you. Dick.”

Steve clapped his thigh with his free hand and made a gesture.

“Right?! So I said that was against company policy and that I unfortunately couldn’t help him. And then I walked forward and accidentally knocked a chair over,” he grinned as he replayed it in his head, “gathered a bit of attention, so weird,” his eyes widened as he spoke, “Tessa’s attention too. You should’ve seen it. I wish you could’ve seen it.”

His sigh filled the small space as he leaned his head back against the thin wall of the fitting room. He knitted his brows together and dropped his hand from the wall to your shoulder, closing his eyes momentarily as he let his brain catch up with his mouth. He seemed a little lost in thought, with his hand gently massaging your shoulder and his chin tipped up towards the ceiling. He didn’t move his head as he looked down at you and you wondered if he had any idea what he looked like right now. Somehow all the adorable-ness his outfit gave him was taken away and replaced for something else by just that one glance along the bridge of his nose.

“Was she mad?” you asked.

“Oh, she was seething. Shouted all sorts of shit at him. I had a lot of cleaning to do after she threw her milkshake in his face, but it was worth it. According to Ben I’m dead by the way. So now you know who to name as a prime suspect, should I ever disappear.”

“He better not.”

Steve shrugged.

“Would be worth it.”

—

The bell above the door of Family Video clanged as you rushed in. Robin lifted her head but was clearly still counting some tapes in her head as she gave you a vague greeting and immediately focused back on her task at hand. Steve on the other hand, immediately poked his head above an aisle and approached you even before you could reach the counter.

“Jake’s gonna ask Trisha to marry him after graduation.”

You gasped and immediately punched his chest, causing him to “oomph” and giving you a look of disbelief. Before he could ask why you punched him, you gave him the answer.

“I came all the way here to tell you that! How’d you even find out?!”

Steve grinned and grabbed the hand you punched him with as he noticed you were subconsciously rubbing your fingers over your knuckles.

“Overheard Brenda and Kate talk about it here earlier,” he said with a nod towards the romcom aisle.

“Ugh,” you groaned, “for once I thought I would have something good to tell you…”

Your pout deepened as you crossed your arms, shaking off his touch. Steve simply replaced it by putting his hand on top of your folded arms, his fingers walking a path from your elbow towards your wrist.

“You did! I just knew it already,” Steve said with a chuckle. He watched you pout for a little longer as his fingers played with the hair tie on your wrist absentmindedly. You were too focused to keep up the play that you didn’t notice his hesitation.

“Hey, wanna watch a movie tonight?”

Just then, as if on cue, Robin poked her head above the horror aisle.

“Yes!”

Steve glanced backwards and smiled softly at Robin, though as he nodded his expression looked a little off. He was chewing on the inside of his cheek until he saw you nod and released some of the tension he was subconsciously holding.

“Yeah let’s. Which movie?”

Steve shrugged. He hadn’t really thought of that. By now he had watched too many to count and there were only so many times you could watch the same movie in a week. He picked up the hair tie between his fingers and let it snap back on your wrist as he bit back a smile. You glared at him playfully, looking for something you could do in return. For a moment, he watched you in stunned silence as you brought your hand up to his neck, trailing your fingers through until you reached the back and yanked at it. Steve gasped and grabbed your hand, twisting you around until he had both your hands behind your back, his chin tucked into your shoulder.

“Caught you.”

As you relaxed in his arms, his breath tickled your neck. Somehow, neither of you had noticed Robin rounding the aisle and as she stopped in front of you, an impatient huff left her lips.

“Well? What movie, guys?” Steve froze around you for a moment and you slowly felt his grip loosening until he stepped aside to check out some of the movies they had.

“Uh…”

You held onto your own arms, realizing your cheeks were heating up and you took a quick few steps towards the door.

“I’ll let it be a surprise, see you tonight! Your place, I assume?” you asked Steve without looking at him.

“Yeah, sure.”

You left and Steve busied himself browsing through the movies with his fingers without remembering any of them.

“You seemed disappointed when I joined movie night.”

Steve gave her a harmless glare.

“Huh? No I wasn’t.”

Robin gave him an empathic smile.

“If you say so.”

Steve shook his head with a laugh.

“We’re just friends, Rob. It’s not like that.”

—

3 years later

It was a Saturday night and you sat on the couch in Steve’s apartment, where you spent so much time you should honestly start paying rent. Not to mention all the products that you had in his bathroom, and the spare set of clothes in his closet. It was a little much, but your home was cramped, and it had been hard to find a place of your own that you could actually afford.

Steve had found a part time job as a basketball coach and filled the rest of his time either with you, Robin, the kids or his failed dates.

But mostly you.

“Do we really have to watch this romantic piece of bullshit?” Steve groaned, flipping over the tape in his hand. It looked small when he held it, somehow.

“Hey now,” you shushed him, “just because Jillian didn’t let you get into her pants doesn’t mean romance is a no go now. Besides, it’s my day to pick.”

You got up to put the tape in and when you sat back, his arm was already waiting for you. His blunt fingernails teased your shoulder as you settled against him.

“She would’ve let me, I was so sure of it. But after she came back from the bathroom she suddenly acted so fucking weird…” Steve mumbled as he thought back on it.

“Maybe she suddenly got her period?” you opted. That surely was something that could make you want to flee out of nowhere. Steve rolled his eyes.

“So? There are pads and tampons,” Steve sighed. They were yours, or so Steve had said when you had asked why there were pads and tampons in a little basket in his bathroom. So you didn’t have to bring your own all the time, had been his reasoning. It was sweet.

“Yeah, well, I don’t know.” “Or maybe she thought you had a girlfriend you were cheating on,” you offered gently. Steve groaned and leaned his head all the way back on the headrest.

“Robin said the same. But if I had had a female roommate no one would bat an eye, so what’s the big deal you’ve got some of your stuff in here?”

“Well, because you don’t have a roommate, I guess?” you suggested with a shrug. His fingers lay flat on your shoulder now, giving it a light squeeze on occasion as he was thinking.

“Whatever. I don’t want a girl that can’t communicate anyway. Like, remember that whole ordeal with Nigel and Yessica? All that drama when it could’ve been solved if they had just asked each other rather than leaving it up to the town’s gossip?”

“Yeah, well… at least it gives us something to discuss.”

Steve nodded, but it seemed that he already was too lost in his own thoughts.

“I want someone who’s straight forward. Honest but kind. Funny. Warm. Also witty, sarcastic… just someone I can spend all day with without being bored. Where I can fully be myself without worrying about anything,” Steve mumbled.

“They’re out there, Steve, I’m sure of it.”

He glanced at you, face a little too close for comfort.

“What about you, then? When was the last time you dated?”

“Uh… Rick.”

Steve scowled.

“Rick.”

“He was fine.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Oh please. If you told me he had bodies buried in his garden I’d believe you.”

This time you rolled your eyes, sitting up a little so he had to remove his arm.

“Yeah, of course you would, because you hated him for no fucking reason.”

Steve’s lips thinned a little but he gave you your space. Leaned back a little, though he kept his thigh against yours.

“I had many valid reasons. For one: He sucks.”

You laughed dryly and shook your head.

“That’s an opinion, not a reason. You basically chased him away.”

“For the better! You know I’m right.”

“If it were up to you, none of the guys are a good fit for me.”

Steve watched as you got up from the couch to grab a beer and wordlessly asked for one too. You sat down on the far end of the couch, away from Steve. He took a sip without removing his gaze from you and lifted one leg on the couch so he could turn to face you.

“Because they’re not.”

“So it’s me.”

Steve frowned and shook his head. Somehow he had shifted closer on the couch without you noticing. His knee touched your thigh.

“What? No. It’s all of them.”

“My standards are just too high, I guess.”

Steve shook his head, his hand finding your knee.

“Shut up, they’re not. You deserve someone who actually appreciates you. All of you.”

A silent implication there, considering he knew all about your dating life. After Rick, you hadn’t even bothered. You dated them only to numb the pain of listening to Steve’s date stories. And since for some reason Robin refused to listen to them, you were the designated person to tell.

Thanks, Robin.

“Yeah, well, so do you.”

He gazed into your eyes, his face so much closer than you had anticipated when his finger lifted your chin gently.

“I appreciate all of you,” he said softly. You watched him silently as you connected the dots of his earlier spoken words to his current ones. His thumb caressed your cheek as he chewed on the inside of his cheek.

“You’re… we’re friends,” you said softly, too scared to trust what his words implied.

“Can’t we be more?” Steve asked, his voice soft as silk.

“Can we?” you whispered.

Steve nodded, his gaze dropping to your lips as he leaned in closer.

“Yeah.”

He cupped your jaw a little stronger as he kissed you, as if he was scared you’d slip from his fingers the moment his lips brushed yours. You leaned forward, his hand resting on his chest. He let out a sweet sound when your fingers happened to brush his nipple and you used that leverage to swing your leg over his lap. His hands found your waist easily as he teared away his lips from yours to explore your neck.

“Ah, Steve,” you whispered, encouraging him to continue. You let your hands roam over his chest until that wasn’t enough and you let them dip under the hem of his shirt. He broke his attack on your neck to look at you hungrily as he lifted his arms above his head to take off his shirt, followed by a hesitant brush of his fingers along yours. With a nod, you gave him the permission to take it off and the look of appreciation at the sight made you feel warm inside. His hands found your waist again as he buried his face in your chest, licking the crevice of your boobs all the way up to your neck.

You felt how hard he was when you shifted your lips and a groan left him.

“Steve… when you said, more, what did you mean?” you asked softly.

Steve leaned back to look at you, eyes searching your face with urgency.

“I— Like, everything? Sorry— Did I… is it too much? Am I too much?” he rambled, a sudden nervosity taking over his system as his hands dropped from your body.

“No! No, Steve, you’re never too much, silly,” you told him quickly, smoothing out the frown in his forehead with your thumb. “I just wanted to make sure this isn’t like a… friends with benefits thing, for you,” you grunted out, cheeks heating up.

Steve let out a relieved sigh and his hands found your waist again, gently digging into your pliant skin.

“I’ve been your friend with benefits for all I can remember. Your kindness, sarcasm, wit, humor, honesty… all of that and more I have benefitted from for the longest time. I just… I’d want, like, to be your boyfriend with benefits. To have it all but to have all of you as well. Want you to be mine, Y/N. Mine only,” he told you sincerely. His eyes slowly turned a little mischievous as your smile relaxed and he moved his hands up to squeeze your boobs as he bit down on his bottom lip with a smile.

“And if that means I also get to, kiss you and stuff, all the better,” he said with a cheeky grin.

“And stuff, huh?” you mumbled affectionately, your thumbs finding his nipples to rub slow circles. Steve’s eyes rolled back and he nodded as he bit back a groan.

“Uh-huh,” he sighed, “god, keep doing that.” A beat. “Please.”

You smirked and rolled your hips slowly against his.

“So polite,” you murmured as your lips found his neck.

“I - ah - would like to say I was raised that way but I guess I’ve just always had it in me,” he said with a chuckle while his hands toyed with the sweatpants resting on your hips still. You laughed softly and hummed in agreement.

“It’s a little too hot for these sweats, don’t you agree?” he asked then, a finger teasing along the waistband.

“Yours too.”

“Can I keep my socks on?”

You leaned back and gave him a glare as he burst out laughing.

“See?! Rick was not fine at all.”

“Shut up. What about Layla with her “call them mommy milkers” spiel?”

Steve bit his lip with a smile.

“That never happened, actually. Tried to make you jealous and failed.”

“You thought that would make me jealous? It just made me reconsider my crush on you.”

“Ouch?”

“Just not big on the whole mommy thing.”

“Yeah, well, me neither.”

Steve kissed your collar bone and let his hands slide down your back to grab two handfuls of your ass. You let out a sweet noise, edging him on.

“Back to point one…”

“Back to Rick with his Star Wars socks during sex…”

He pushed you against him, rolling his hips just in time. Not even Rick with his socks on could ruin this feeling for you. Steve moaned softly into your neck as he found just the right angle for the best amount of friction.

“He came within a minute.”

“Assumed as much. Could tell you were lying your tits off when you said it was somewhere between two and five minutes. As if anyone times that.”

“You said you could last fifteen.”

“Cause I can!”

“So you timed it,” you told him dryly.

Steve rolled his eyes and pushed down your sweats, making you get up to take them off so he could do the same.

“I can last as long as you need,” he promised you, “and look, my socks are off.”

“Still wearing too much clothes,” you mumbled as you snapped the waistband of his boxers. Steve laughed and turned you around so your back was facing the couch. His lips traveled down your chest as he unclasped your bra with one hand, not wasting a second to circle his tongue around one of your nipples as his fingers squeezed the other not too gently, eliciting a yelp from you. You yanked at his hair and he laughed breathily around your nipple.

“Like it when you do that,” he admitted. “Nearly had me chub up when you did it that one time.”

He didn’t need to tell you which time. It had been the one and only time you both had let it come a little too close for comfort. At least, too close to keep up the pretense that you weren’t into each other.

“Could tell. Your cheeks turned pink.”

Steve’s lips explored your stomach while his hands squeezed and fondled your curves. He hooked his fingers around your underwear and easily pulled them down while his lips followed the fabric until there was nothing covering your pussy. He barely let you step out of them before he pushed you down on the couch and lifted your legs over his shoulders. He took his sweet time kissing up your thighs, though you could feel through the tremble of his fingers that he was as impatient and nervous as you were. You had been watching him worship your thighs with his eyes closed, but the moment his lips wrapped around your clit he gazed up at you through his lashes.

“Steve…”

He grinned against your skin and slowly licked a stripe along your swollen lips, gathering juices to slicken up your clit with. Your hand was back in his hair before you knew it, his head bobbing as he started to eat you out hungrily. Noisily. Hands digging into the plush of your thighs as he opened them wider for better access. That fucker knew he was good at this.

Your hips bucked up to grind against him in tune with your moans and he strengthened his grip to keep in control of the pace, which he then brutally slowed down. You were about to complain when suddenly he went to town on you at full speed, his nose hitting your clit just right. The grip on his hair was none too gentle and you felt his warm moans vibrating against you. His tongue lapped at you impatiently, eyes focused on your flushed expression. He relished in the feeling of your thighs tightening around his face when you came all over his tongue.

He bullied your clit a little longer, smirking against your thigh before kissing it as you pinched his cheek to stop him. When he got back on his feet, you noticed his boxers had disappeared without you noticing. His cock was hard, the head slick from precome.

Wordlessly, you shifted on the couch and grasped his thighs to pull him close. He cupped your cheek, unable to hold back a moan as you wrapped your lips around the head and sucked none too gently. Soon enough, his hand was holding your hair in a makeshift ponytail despite letting you decide on the pace. You loved taking control. When you looked up as you bobbed your head noisily, he threw his head back with a groan. He needed to look away if he wanted this to last longer than a goddamn minute. You smirked around his cock and picked up the pace, relentlessly taking more and more of his length until your nose brushed the coarse hair above his base.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N…”

He couldn’t help himself, his grip tightened on your hair and you felt him quickly thrust his hips. You let him and absently realized this was the first time you enjoyed the salty taste of his come in the back of your throat. He broke it off halfway, giving your cheek a sweet caress before turning around to grab a condom that he apparently stored in the drawer of the coffee table. You impatiently slapped his ass, making him yelp and accidentally tearing the first condom.

“Menace, that was a perfectly fine condom,” he complained with his back to you, and you could tell he was smiling. You shrugged and leaned forward giving the spot you slapped a kiss instead. And then a nibble.

“Your ass looks biteable, y’know that?” you mumbled, kneading his ass with a longing sigh as you remembered all the times his ass had looked so good in his jeans.

Steve laughed.

“Yeah, well, so does yours.”

He turned around, condom wrapped and ready, though Steve seemed to hesitate.

“Second thoughts?” you asked, unable to filter your worries.

Steve scoffed and shook his head.

“Of course not, silly. I just— Come on.”

He grabbed your hand to pull you up and started guiding you to the bedroom.

“Want you to be comfortable,” he explained, and if that didn’t make you melt…

He propped up some pillows just perfectly and made sure you were comfortable before he positioned himself above you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said softly, leaning down to kiss the part of your body that covered the heart that carried so much love for him. His hand slipped between you two, playing with you some more so he was certain you’d feel good once he’d go inside. He kissed you deeply, slowly, really taking his time compared to your first kiss. You both loved kissing. It was one of the many things you had shared complaints about when your dates weren’t into it as much. You had lost count how many times you had mentioned you could kiss for hours, secretly thinking of the other person.

Steve gazed into your eyes as he pushed inside slowly, his breath hitching as the sensations overtook his body. He moved without a rush, relishing being able to watch your expression as he fucked into you. His moans escaped from his lips whenever your lips weren’t against his to silence them. His tongue darted out to lick your ear and a gasp left you as he moved down and bit your neck. Your nails scratched his back as his thrusts became harder, your moans no longer contained by the press of your lips. You wrapped your legs around his hips, allowing him to fuck deeper. Sweat dripped from his forehead, mixing with yours as droplets found a way into your hairline.

“Y/N… baby, fuck…”

Slow, hard thrusts helped him ride out his orgasm while his hand flicking over your clit got you clenching around his cock until you knocked over the edge. The muscles in his arms were shaking as he kept himself from collapsing on top of you, so you poked his side to make him collapse anyway.

“Oof,” you groaned, followed by a laugh.

“I was trying not to crush you,” Steve mumbled into your neck, humming pleasantly as he inhaled your shampoo.

“Maybe I wanted you to crush me. Needed some pain to know if this was all real.”

“Sure hope it’s real. Never came this hard.”

You snorted.

“It didn’t take fifteen minutes, though,” you told him, even though you had no idea.

“I told you I’d last as long as you needed me and uh, by the way you tried to clench my dick off I think I did just fine,” he responded cockily through a giggle.

“Touché,” you mumbled.

“Mmmm.”

Steve gave you a kiss, slowly, sweetly. He rested his head next to yours, slowly moving his body off of you in favor to pull your leg over his waist as he cuddled you close.

“Would it be too soon to tell you that I love you?” Steve asked, looking at you with what you could only describe as love in his eyes.

“Normally that’s a definite red flag, even you said so,” you said teasingly as you combed your fingers through his damp chest hair. “But if I said I love you too, then that would make two red flags, and two negatives is a positive, right?”

Steve shrugged, a smile spreading on his face.

“I’m sure there’s an argument against that, but I was never good at math anyway.”

“Me neither.”

Steve smiled and put his hand on top of yours.

“I love you.”

You leaned in for a soft kiss.

“I love you too.”

He watched you quietly, content and happy. At least, until a frown formed on his forehead and he cursed softly.

“What is it?”

“I lost the bet.”

You pushed lightly against his chest.

“This better not be one of those movie plots where you pretend to fall in love with someone for a bet and then supposedly actually fall for them and shit,” you tell him with narrowed eyes, although you knew Steve would never do that.

Steve laughed and shook his head.

“Nah, Robin bet me that I’d sleep with you the moment we’d confess our feelings to each other, and yes I say each other because she was convinced you liked me too and I did not believe her. So I said bet, because I thought this,” he said as he gestured between you both, “was never gonna happen. So… yeah. Well. No regrets, though, obviously,” he mumbled, stealing another kiss.

“What did you bet for?”

“Taking her shift every Saturday, even if that means a double shift for me,” Steve groaned, “and you know what she said? She said: ‘It will be for the better, because I know you two. I don’t wanna be around when you fuck like rabbits in the adult section.’ as if we’d ever—”

You gave him a look.

“Okay, she was probably right but still! Ruthless, that one.”

“She’s gonna be soooo smug…” you mumbled.

“Yeah, it’s gonna be hell.”

“I’ll just ravish you on a random Tuesday to torment her,” you shrugged and Steve laughed.

“I like the sound of that.”

“Thought you would.”

His hand wandered over your thigh and he smirked slowly.

“Wanna take a shower? There’s a girl who left basically all her toiletries here so I’m sure there’s something you can use.”

“How convenient.”

“Very.”

Steve’s gaze was absolutely smitten, and you were pretty sure your expression matched his perfectly.

FIN

If you enjoyed reading this, please know that comments and reblogs are highly appreciated :) Likes are lovely but sadly do nothing to spread the fics around! Help your favorite writers (not saying me - in general) out like that so you can continue to enjoy consuming the free work they put out, it's a win-win.

[eddielove]

My Roman Empire is Joe Keery playing on guitars

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Desire, I'm Hungry

Summary: You and Steve happen upon a strange flower and suddenly find yourselves separated from your friends in the Upside Down. An unrelenting desire overtakes the both of you, taking your friendship past the point of no return.

CW: Porn with plot. Sex pollen (so this could be considered forced intimacy). Underlying idiots in love. Mutual pining. AFAB Reader. Steve's canon S4 injuries. Steve's a little mean. Fluff ending. Biting. Blood. Fingering. Makeshift gag. Unprotected P in V. Reader has a vagina. Small breeding kink (it is Steve, after all). Creampie.

This one would not leave my brain until I got it out! Enjoy!

WC: 10.4K

In all the years you had come to know Steve Harrington it had its ups and downs. Being his best friend came with firsthand experience with all things Upside Down that ultimately led you into some pretty precarious situations.

Demogorgans, demo-dogs, Russians and a monster composed solely of melted people were the least of your worries because HE had always been there.

Until this very moment you saw him as untouchable. An invincible protector, the one person who came when you needed to be saved, not the person who needed saving.

He'd reached for your hand in desperation as he disappeared under Lover's Lake. The tips of his fingers slipped through yours, leaving you grasping and screaming out in panic and shock.

“Steve! No, no, no, no!” You scrambled next to Robin, pulling off your jacket about to jump in when she suddenly caught your wrist.

“Hey Y/N! No! You can't just jump in there!” She yelled. Before you could get a word of protest out, you heard Eddie yell behind you.

“Woah, Wheeler you're not going in there, are you?”

“Just wait here.” She replied, briefly cutting her eyes to you before the sound of splashing water drew your attention.

“Holy shit,” Robin breathed out, clutching a hand over her mouth.

“Robin, we can't stay here. Not with both of them down there! Let's go!” Reaching out to her, as you turned back to look at the metalhead. “Eddie?”

“What? No. You can't go. What the fuck man!” He wailed. “She said wait.”

“Yeah, we heard her.” Robin finally nodded, squeezing your hand reassuringly as you both leapt from the boat.

-

You'd never been a strong swimmer, even with all the summers spent by the Harrington's pool. Much more interested in getting some sun instead of swimming laps.

Only now you were regretting never listening to the boy when he tried to give you those life preserving pointers, as you swam to the pulsating gate beneath Lover's Lake. Your lungs were on fire by the time you made it to the opening, Robin extending her hand to help you through.

Eddie surprisingly followed a moment after, while you were still trying to catch your breath.

Suddenly, ear splitting screeching noises and Nancy's voice pulled your focus in time to see Satan’s own flying hell spawn attacking Steve on the ground, as she attempted to fight them off.

“Oh my God! We have to help them!” You shouted, taking off in a sprint toward your friends, Eddie and Robin hot on your heels. All regard for your own safety was quickly forgotten.

A weapon was the furthest thing from your mind but as you drew closer, you realized just how dire the situation appeared.

Steve was being strangled by one of the creatures, with its tail wrapped around his neck and another making a meal of him. Nancy had successfully pried one off and was in the midst of fighting it back.

“Steve! Just hang on!” You shouted, stomping a foot down directly on this thing's back as it shrieked out in pain releasing its jaw from his side, immediately turning its attention toward you.

“Oh fuck.” You hissed, as it leapt up taking flight. You turned to run but Robin was right there with an oar.

You ducked as she bashed into this thing, splintering the wood as it fell to the ground. Rushing over you began to stomp on it repeatedly until it stopped moving.

You all turned in time to see Steve holding this creature by the tail and whip it around hitting the ground until it lost consciousness. Stepping on it with his bare foot and pulling until he ripped it apart with his bare hands.

“Fuck,” you huffed, stunned. He was bloodied and bruised, as he spit blood from his mouth, but he was alive.

Robin leaned over slightly, whispering low enough for only you to hear.

“Might want to pick your jaw up off the floor.”

You shut your mouth and shot her a sideways glance, as she snickered.

The joy of a victory was short lived as you rushed over to Steve’s side.

‘Steve, are you okay?” Suddenly hurdling yourself into his chest with a thud as he grunted out, throwing your arms around his neck as he wound his around your back, holding a little too tightly and maybe a few seconds too long before letting go to give you a proper answer.

“Well,” Looking down at his torso, when you stepped back. “They took about a pound of flesh. But, other than that, yeah, never better.”

Robin began ranting about rabies, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of Steve as your own set of worries began to seep in. Completely lost on the conversation around you until you heard Nancy yell.

“The woods. Come on!”

“Y/N, c’mon!” Steve frantically tugged at your arm before you all made a run for cover.

You were huddled under skull rock pressed in like sardines, waiting with bated breath until the bats finally dispersed.

Everyone grumbled, and voiced concerns as you stood. Steve took a few uneasy steps before he fell against the rocky surface opposite of you.

“Oh shit,” coming out on a shaky exhale, as he tried to upright himself.

“Steve?” Your head whipped around as you stepped into his space, reaching out to help steady him.

“I'm fine. I'm fine.” He huffed out, still a little dazed.

“No, no you're not. You're bleeding. Sit down.” Worrying over him.

He slid down, as you knelt in front of him, guiding his wrist to take his hand away from his oozing wound. Nancy began to tear the bottom of her shirt, quickly handing you the fabric.

Robin started rambling about rabies again before you glared at her.

“Rob, not helping!” You hissed before she mumbled an apology and backed away from the two of you.

“You ready?” Asking him as he looked down at you, poised with his makeshift bandage.

“Yeah, just do it.” He pinched his eyes closed, bracing himself, wincing once you pulled it taut against his abdomen and began wrapping.

“Too tight?” Chancing a glance up at him but he was already staring down at you, with a scowl plastered across his features.

“Why the hell are you down here?” He suddenly blurted out.

“What the hell do you mean? We all jumped in for you.” His question genuinely bewildered you, eyes drifting back down, concentrating on the task at hand. Wouldn't he do the same for any of you?

“You should have stayed in the boat. Like I told you to.” He chides.

You work to finish covering his wounds, ignoring the sting of his words. Scolding you as if you were a petulant child who didn't listen to their father.

“A thank you would be nice.” Mumbling out as he winced when you tightened it to begin tying it off.

“A thank you?” Scoffing down at you. “Well instead of me dying, now we all might die. Don't you get that? Jesus, Y/N you don't lis— Fuck!” He hissed out.

You made sure to pull the last knot even tighter, effectively cutting off the rest of his little tirade.

“Oops.” You smirked, finally standing and stepping away from him.

You were drenched and cold, suddenly all too aware of your grim situation. You sure as hell didn't need a lecture from him right now after saving his ass.

“Fuck off Steve! We were all trying to save you!” You shouted, leaving the rest of the crew to stare around awkwardly, shifting gazes amongst each other.

“I didn't need to be saved! You should have stayed on the fucking boat!” He yelled back.

“Hey, guys,” Nancy cleared her throat, trying to break the tension between the two of you before it got any worse.

“What?!” Shouting in unison, turning your heads to look over at her.

“Maybe we should get going, yeah? And uh… stay a little quieter?” Her eyes drifted to the treetops overhead, scanning a moment.

You'd both been so fixated on the other, the horrors of the upside down had slipped your minds. She was right, you were trying to avoid attention, not bring it directly on top of you.

“Let's all just calm down and get through this together.” She hummed, satisfied with your nods of agreement taking off ahead of you once more as Robin followed.

Eddie's wide eyes met yours and then Steve's.

“Right, I should, uh…” he said, thumb pointed in their direction. “But uh, here.” Shrugging his vest off before forcefully tossing it toward Steve's chest.

“For your modesty dude.” Smirking before he darted away to follow after the girls.

Steve sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, voice coming out quieter this time but still laced with annoyance.

“C’mon. Just stay close and don't wander off.” Before taking a few steps to catch up to Eddie.

“Don't wander off.” Mocking under your breath, staying a few paces behind, not wanting to be near your ungrateful so-called best friend.

The forest got darker the further you went. It felt like eyes were on you the entire time. You wrap your arms around yourself, suddenly feeling chilled and uneasy, closing the gap between yourself and the boys.

You were close enough now to catch bits and pieces of their hushed conversation, more Eddie talking than not. You knew Steve well enough that he was still brooding about the entire situation. He didn't hate you, quite the opposite. His harsh tone only masks his own worries and fears.

You caught him more than once glancing over his shoulder to make sure you were never too far away.

“Dustin… said I was badass?”

“Oh yeah. Shit. Kid WORSHIPS you, man. Like, you got no idea. It's rather annoying to be honest.”

You smirked at that. Dustin never told Steve anything like that, coming off as an annoying little brother all the time.

“Those ladies jumped in after you and I was too damn ashamed to be the one who stayed behind. Wheeler there, she didn’t waste a second. I mean not a split second. She just dove right in. I don’t know what happened between you two, but… I’d get her back, man. Whatever it takes. ‘Cause that… that was as unambiguous a sign of true love as these cynical eyes have ever seen.”

Steve stops at Eddie's spiel, looking over his shoulder once more, as you roll your eyes. Of course it was always about Nancy. The one that got away. Not like you tried to dive in first, right? Eddie was too freaked out to notice back there.

Before Steve had the chance to respond the ground began to shake once more, as everyone tried to hang on. You lost your footing, tripping over a stump and thankfully not landing on one of those damn vines, losing sight of everyone behind an overgrown thatch of bushes.

The rumbling slowed to a dull roar just as something caught your eye in a small clearing up ahead, emanating a small bluish-purple glow through the trees ahead. It was faint but while everything in the Upside Down was muted and dull it stuck out like a sore thumb.

As if it was pulling you in, you stumbled forward, quickly righting yourself and heading toward it. It was pulsing slightly; a steady, slow rhythm like a heartbeat.

You stopped at the center of the clearing, as you stepped closer, you realized it was a flower or at least flower shaped. Something akin to a Dahlia back home but it was a glowing azure color, petals almost transparent.

There were a few unopened buds that were also pulsing. The closed pods thumped, not taking notice of the way the pulses quickened as you stepped closer.

Your mind was clouded as you watched them. Beauty in a barren landscape, so mesmerizing you didn't hear Steve calling out for you.

As if on autopilot, your hand began to drift toward it as he jogged up beside you.

“Hey, did you not hear me calling for you? What're y—” He trailed off, feeling helpless watching your fingertips graze the pod as he tried to yank you back, but it was too late.

You were both too close when the thing practically exploded open, releasing a cloud of pearlescent powder into the space between you.

The dust landed on everything in a five-foot radius, as it invaded your lungs causing you both to choke on what you could only think of as its pollen. He grabbed the back of your shirt, dragging you away.

“What the hell was that?” He asked in between coughs and a few sneezes.

“I don't…” before you could properly form a response, screeching could be heard from overhead once more.

“Shit!” He hissed, before shouting back to the others to run for it. The hive mind. Everything was connected down here, it only made sense the flowers were too. The flying bats were back.

You and Steve took off the opposite way that you entered the clearing, dodging vines and low hanging branches in the process. He was trying to slow down so you could keep up.

“C’mon y/n. I think I see a building up ahead!” He shouted.

It was a dilapidated looking cabin, but it would have to do, as he took the steps two at a time reaching the porch with you right behind him.

He barreled through the door, thankful it wasn't locked as you rushed past him, slamming it shut in time to see some of the creatures flying low, unsure if they'd spotted you.

His hands quickly moved to the deadbolt, looking around the small space grabbing a chair, wedging it under the door handle.

You both stood there a moment facing the door, trying to catch your breath as a loud thump echoed overhead as it landed on the roof. It let out an ear-piercing screech that had you covering your ears. Steve hovered his finger over his lips as a shushing motion as a few more thuds and mirrored screeches followed.

He was trying to think, shining the flashlight this way and that, finding an open door near the edge of the kitchen, spotting a set of stairs that were leading down.

He quietly shuffled over to it, shining his beam ahead. It looked like it led to a small basement or at least a root cellar, as he nodded for you to follow as he began his descent.

You sighed, but reluctantly walked over as quietly as possible and trailed behind him, closing the door softly behind you. There was no lock, but it did latch shut.

It was dark, the only light emanating from his flashlight, as he shined it back to the stairs for you to climb down.

“I think we'll be safer down here.” He whispered. “There's a cot over there.” Pointing to the corner.

It was a small room. No other outlet, looking more like a bunker than a cellar. Shelves lined the wall with food and various supplies. At least you were covered if you had to stay a while but hoped it wouldn't come to that.

“Steve,” You began but he immediately cut you off holding his hand up.

“If you hadn't gotten distracted, we wouldn't be in this situation.” His voice is a little louder, but still barely above a whisper.

“It's not my fault Steve, I saw something glowing, like it was pulling me in. You didn't have to fucking follow me!” You knew he was right, but you were feeling attacked.

“Yeah, I did. I'm not leaving anyone behind in this fucking place. Even if you can't follow simple directions.” He huffs, throwing a hand to his hip as he surveyed the room. “Not enough you get us separated, but you have to go and touch that weird ass flower. God knows what the hell that shits going to do to us.”

He was venting more than yelling toward you at this point, frustrated with the entire situation.

“You knew you weren't supposed to touch shit… that hive mind…”

“Steve.”

He continued to mumble over in the corner, with his back turned, throwing his hands around in dramatic fashion.

“But no! You touch it and now we're contaminated…”

“Steve!” Hissing out more forcefully, finally knocking him from his train of thought and little rant.

“What?!” He spun around, throwing the beam from his flashlight directly in your face. “What Y/N?”

You threw a hand up shielding your eyes with a grimace before he quickly lowered it, mumbling an apology.

“Can you just stop pacing? It's not helping anything. You're just giving me a headache.” You grumbled, sitting down on the cot. It slightly squeaked under your newly added weight, as your elbows landed on your knees, bringing your hands to cover your face with a groan.

“You're giving me a headache…” he mumbled slightly under his breath, but you still caught it. He found a small chair in the opposite corner, plopping down with a sigh.

After about ten minutes of total silence, you laid back on the cot, unwilling to give him any more attention. Though he continued to mutter under his breath occasionally, you ignored him.

“Hey,” he finally spoke up. “I'm going to give it a few more minutes and see if they're still on the roof. Maybe we can make a break for Nance’s place and regroup.”

“Yeah, fine.” Huffing a reply with an eye roll.

It was then you noticed a strange tingling on the skin around your neck, kind of like a cold chill. Shaking your head as you sit up, to rub the back of your neck.

“You ok?” He asked, watching intently.

“Fine. Just… a chill.” You shrugged, as he nodded.

Another drawn out silence before either of you attempt to speak.

“Hey, are you… do you feel itchy?” He asked, scratching his exposed shoulder.

“Um, well now that you mention it, yeah. This spot on my neck is itchy.” Your hand absentmindedly reached up, scratching at it again.

“It's that damn flower. I knew it!” He exclaimed, standing up. “Look, we need to see if we can get out of here.”

You watched him carefully retreat up the stairs, his footsteps creaking across the floorboards above your head, stopping for a few moments before making their way back over to the door as he came back into view.

“Ok, looks like we might be here for a while. They're still moving around up there, and when I looked out the window there's a few in the surrounding trees.” He slid back down into the chair, spreading out as much as he could to make himself comfortable.

“Fuck, isn't that just great?” You huffed out, taking your turn to pace the small room. Was it getting hot in here? A bead of sweat rolled down your back. When did it get so muggy?

“Just calm down, we'll get out of here. Okay?” He sounded so sure of himself; you almost believed him.

You sat back down, stretching your legs out onto the cot and finally laying back. The situation was looking bleak, your own mind filling with anxious stress. At least Steve’s here. You don’t have to die alone.

You watched him from the corner of your eye, wiping his brow several times before finally rolling your head toward his direction.

The vest Eddie gave him hung open, revealing his chest, the thick smattering of hair slick and matted down. Was he sweating too? His toned chest moving up and down, a steady rhythm with each breath he took. His head was leaned back on the wall behind him, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.

You pulled your lip between your teeth, before letting go as he picked his head up looking at you as if he could feel your eyes on him. You didn't look away, holding his gaze.

“Steve?” You finally asked.

“Yeah?” His eyes shift away from your face, trailing down your body before looking back up as his tongue darted out wetting his parched lips.

“Is it hot in here?” Sitting up, fanning yourself. “I feel like I'm burning up.”

“Yeah… yeah, no. I thought it was just me.” Letting out a sigh. “It could be the close quarters, but I don't think we should go upstairs yet.”

“No, yeah. You're right.” You laid back down, eyes to the ceiling. You could ignore the heat if it meant survival for at least a bit longer.

He turned the light off a little while later, trying to conserve what little battery life it had left.

At some point you drifted off to sleep because you were roused by him touching your arm. It felt like ice touching your flushed skin as you sat straight up trying to catch your bearings.

“Hey! Woah, it's just me.” He soothed, as you flinched away from his unusual cold touch. He pulled his hands back, giving you some space. “I wanted to check on you. I don't think it's hot down here. I think it's us.”

You felt dizzy sitting all the way up, throwing the back of your hand to your forehead. You were on fire. Your nearly dry clothes were sticking to the dampness of your flushed skin, making you cringe. There was also an overwhelming feeling of an unquenchable thirst in the back of your throat.

“Fuck, Steve. I really did it this time.” You folded over yourself, head in your hands, groaning at the way you almost felt drunk or drugged, wondering if he felt as bad as you did.

“No, hey. Look, I'm sorry about earlier. It's not your fault. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. I’m the reason we’re in this situation.” You moved your head to look up at him, willing your bleary eyes to focus. A thin sheen of sweat covered his exposed skin, hair sticking against his forehead. His eyes are what caught your attention the most.

His usual golden flaked, honey hued irises were a mere fraction of a ring around a black abyss. This pollen was affecting him the same, he just had a better poker face but he couldn't control the truth his eyes showed you.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked, as you sat there unblinking.

“Yeah, I…” Shaking your head to look away. “Yeah, no. I don't fucking know right now.”

He shuffled over to one of the shelves looking for some water or anything to help alleviate your symptoms. Pausing for a moment, wondering if anything could be trusted from the Upside Down but there wasn't anything of value he could find in any case.

“Fuck!” He hissed, turning back around.

“Steve, it's ok.” You croaked out. “Just sit down.” You patted the small space beside you on the cot as you scooted over. He hung his head and skirted back over, sitting down carefully trying not to touch you.

_

He didn't want to tell you that while you were sleeping this overwhelming urge started to come over him. An ache low in his belly, and groin. It started out dull but began to grow, radiating through him as a spiked sense of arousal began thrumming through his veins.

Shame began to wash over him. How could he be so turned on at a time like this? A few more minutes passed when he was hit with the most intoxicating scent. It was faint at first. When he took in another heavy exhale it invaded his nostrils and filled his lungs.

He didn't understand where it was coming from, but he felt light, almost high, as he continued to breathe in and out, letting it wash over him. He could only describe it as a familiar, yet exotic thing, wrapping him up in a warm hug. It was almost irresistible, in the way a bakery or candy shop lures you in with promises that, yes it tastes just as good as it smells.

He turned the light back on, shining it toward your still sleeping form, shifting his hooded and heavy eyes over you stretched out on the small cot. There wasn't much skin showing, aside from your exposed arms but then you turned toward him as your shirt rose up slightly, exposing a sliver along your hip that suddenly had him drooling.

He felt his cock stir in his pants, with an ache that was suddenly all consuming. He hadn't realized when he'd gotten up, but he was suddenly standing over you, reaching out, fingertips grazing your arm.

You stirred slightly, as he watched your lips part with a soft breath settling back down.

He placed his palm to your arm, fingers wrapping around your soft, pliable flesh and an instant feeling of relief flooded his senses but then you'd woken, startling him out of this sudden trance.

-

You stretched and yawned beside him, shedding the last bits of slumber from your small nap. You couldn't have been out long, but you were so tired and thirsty.

Had he been awake the whole time? A sudden pang of guilt overtook you at the thought.

“If you need a nap, I'll move so you can take the cot.” Saying as you slowly stood, stiff on unsure legs, as you swayed just a bit plopping back down, your arm brushing his. It was brief but the feeling was cool against the searing heat radiating from you.

“Woah, just take it easy, yeah?” He turned toward you, hands at the ready but just hovering. He didn't trust himself right now.

“How… how are you so cold? Your skin, I mean? I thought you were hot too?”

“I am, look at me. I'm fucking sweating.” He gestured toward himself, a thin sheen of sweat still covering his face and body.

“Can I…” You couldn't get the question out before your hand was already reaching up, suddenly gripping his wrist.

Your brain is flooded with endorphins. A dopamine hit that had you suddenly searching for more. Your eyes closed at the contact, missing the way Steve’s mouth parted slightly releasing a shuddered breath.

As if you had no control of your body, your other hand moved up, planting itself firmly on Steve's chest, eliciting a small whimper from him that made your eyes shoot back open.

“Do you feel that?” You asked, watching his eyes flutter closed. All he could do was nod, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth.

You moved his wrist up, as he opened his hand, already anticipating what you were thinking, as you placed his palm to your chest.

“Oh my God,” it slipped out, almost a moan more than words. His hand immediately soothing the patch of exposed skin that had your eyelids lazily closing once more.

“It feels so good, Steve.” You breathed out.

Your words were doing nothing to quell his ever-growing arousal. He took in a heavy breath and there it was. That overpowering aroma was suddenly surrounding him once more, too heavy to ignore.

It was you.

When you opened your heavy-lidded eyes, the pupils were blown wide, full of lust and desire. Your lips parted slightly, releasing a small exhale you had been holding. All he wanted to do was lean in and press his lips to yours, letting his tongue explore and taste all that you had to offer.

“No.” He hissed out, jumping up and stumbling back, putting a little space between the two of you.

“What? What's wrong?” You asked, mourning the loss of his contact.

“This. This isn't… Jesus!” He whispered out, trying to maintain his composure. “Can't you see what's happening? It's the goddamn flower, that powder. It's making us… whatever this is.” Gesturing between the two of you.

Of course he had an attraction to you. He'd been harboring, what he thought, were unrequited feelings for the better part of two years.

“Yeah, I know, but it feels so good when you touch me, Steve.” Your voice was dripping with seduction, even if you hadn't meant it that way. Your head was getting all fuzzy again, swaying a little.

“Goddamnit, we need to get out of here.” He hissed, wiping his forehead. “I'm checking upstairs again.”

You watched him go, leaning back on the small cot once more.

Aside from the dizziness, there was something stirring just under your skin. An itch you couldn't quite scratch, a buzz or a hum starting at the base of your neck, traveling down your spine sending a sudden spark to your lower abdomen like when you were… Oh God. Your legs closed as if by their own volition when that spark suddenly had your core clenching around nothing just as he descended back down the stairs.

“I think we're almost in the clear. The ones in the trees are gone and… hey, are you okay?” Finally noticing the almost pained expression etched across your face.

“I… I'm… Steve, what the hell is wrong with us?” You sat up quickly, getting to your feet with a gentle sway. He didn't think this time reaching for you.

His touch both soothed and electrified you. Cooling hands on hot skin but an even hotter feeling pooling between your thighs, making a small whimper escape you.

He closed his eyes as your cheek hit his chest. He was trying to think of something, anything else other than the way you felt against him.

You inhaled deeply, his woodsy musk surrounding you entirely. It was illogical. You'd both been in the lake and running through the woods, yet his scent was mouth watering.

“God, Steve, you smell so good.” You murmured, feeling intoxicated, grabbing onto Eddie's vest with clenched fists.

“Yeah, s—so do you.” Dropping his hands to rest on your hips, your head lifting at his admission.

“Yeah?” You asked, almost breathless. He nods, licking his lips, your eyes landing there as your hands slip under the vest smoothing over his chest, the coarse hair tickling your palms as a shiver ran down his spine.

It's like you couldn't stop yourself, stepping closer into his space as his grip on you tightened, pulling you fully into him, your lower stomach meeting his hips.

“Steve?” Asking as you inch forward, calves beginning to strain as you stand on the tips of your toes.

“Yeah?” He asks, holding his breath.

“I really want to kiss you.”

No sooner than the statement left your lips, he surged forward closing the gap.

Parched from the day's activities left his usual plush, soft looking lips chapped and dry but you didn't mind.

An immediate feeling of relief washed over you. It was like finding an oasis in the desert, drinking the taste of him down, briefly quenching that immeasurable thirst.

He tilted his head, bringing his hand to the back of your head, tangling his fingers into your hair as his nose pressed further into your cheek. You worked in tandem until his tongue dared to slip out, silently begging for permission.

You parted your lips with a soft moan as they met, slowly circling and entangling but you were hungry for more. Your hand slid up his chest and wound around the nape of his neck, finding his usual soft strands of hair, dirty and matted, pulling on the ends before pulling him closer, earning you a moan that you eagerly swallowed down.

The hand on your hip traveled south, snaking its way to the fat of your ass, suddenly groping and kneading your pliant flesh through your jeans pushing you further into him. His now very prominent hard cock pressed into the softness of your lower abdomen, taking you by surprise when you felt it twitch between you as he groaned.

At some point the two of you had begun moving, only realizing it when your back hit the far wall, knocking you from your trance. Your lips separated but still momentarily connected by a thin string of saliva as you pant into each other's mouths.

“Fuck, I need you, Steve.” You hissed out, pushing at the shoulders of the denim vest he still wore.

“Wait,” A moment of clarity for him, grabbing your wrists to halt your movements making you pout, as he looked around the dingy, cobweb infested space.

“Shit I— we can't do that down here.”

“Why not?” Asking, as your lower lip jutted out, eyebrows crinkling. The ache in your lower abdomen was getting worse, your clit was throbbing, practically begging for any kind of stimulation.

He shouldn't have looked at you. Your eyes were glossy in the dim light, looking as if tears were about to roll down your cheeks. He wasn't any better off. His cock was throbbing painfully against his pants, a wet patch of precum visible where his head laid.

“Goddamnit!” He hissed, pausing for a deep breath, tilting his head toward the ceiling. “Because I don't want the first time with you to be on a filthy basement cot in the upside down!”

You couldn't help the grin that lifted the edges of your lips into a smirk, as you continued to stare at his bared throat. Wondering for a moment what it would be like to sink your teeth into him. This deep primal hunger was overpowering your senses, overtaking any other basic needs.

“Fuck me upstairs then.” You blurted out.

“Wh—what?” As if he'd misheard you, whipping his head back down.

“I said,” leaning closer to him. “Fuck. Me. Upstairs. There's a bed up there.” You nip at his nose and giggle when he pulls back, grip moving, holding firm to your shoulders.

When it disbursed, you had taken the brunt of the pollen, if you could even call it that, apparently it was affecting you more severely, unable to concentrate on anything else for more than a few seconds at a time.

“We can't— you— don't know what you're saying, and those things are still up there.”

“Stevie, please?” Your voice drips with desire, sultry and sweet. Looking up at him with your best doe eyes had all manner of his resolve quickly fading.

“I can be quiet. I promise.” You whispered with a pout, as your fingertips dance along his exposed chest. “What're friends for, Stevie? We need to help each other out.”

“Fuck,” he groans, slipping his hand into yours, turning without saying another word to grab the flashlight pulling you along. He wasn't going to be able to hold out, suddenly driven by the unwavering need in his pants, it seemed better to give in to your advances than try to fight them. Your sweet tone, seemingly needing him just as much as he needs you, he couldn't resist.

His mind was flooded with the vivid image of how your tight cunt would feel wrapped around his shaft, he quickly ascended the stairs looking back once holding his finger to his lips when he reached the door, easing it open. The rush of cooler air hit you as soon as the door opened for a small reprieve.

“I'm going to check out the windows, go down the hall. Quietly.” Nodding toward the right. “The first door on the left has a bed and no windows.”

You nod your understanding as he lets go of your hand, letting you go your separate ways. Tiptoeing down the hall, it was quiet, aside from the errant clap of thunder that echoed through the walls every thirty seconds or so.

The room had been exactly where he had explained. It seemed small, but the only light filtered in from the hall, illuminating only a portion of the bed. As your eyes adjusted, the bed came more into view, a little dusty but bigger than the cot downstairs.

You threw the quilt back, revealing surprisingly pristine sheets underneath. You decided to discard your muddy, lake soaked shoes as he came into view.

He had turned his light off, a silhouette of broad shoulders illuminated against a dusky red backdrop as another bolt of lightning split the sky outside. He stood there lingering in the doorway, eyes briefly running over your form. Your breath hitched in your throat drinking him in when he finally took a few steps forward.

He stood before you without saying a word, quickly finding your hips and wasting no time pulling you flush against him once more as you let out a small squeak of surprise bracing yourself against his chest.

“Steve, I—”

You were quickly cut off when he sealed his lips over yours. His intoxicating scent once again surrounded you as your brain began to shut off, driven only by your primal desires.

Your hand trailed down his abdomen, fingertips grazing his bandages finding the exposed skin low by his waistband. He shuddered at your soft, lingering touch. Going lower still, he hisses and pulls back from your kiss as you palm at his erection over his pants.

It felt like you were on autopilot. The only thought in the forefront of your mind was the overpowering need for relief. The need to be as close as possible.

He was taken by surprise when you grabbed the lapels of his vest and quickly pulled him around. The back of his knees hit the bed, as he fell rather ungracefully.

The springs groaned under the sudden pressure of his added weight as he let out a grunt, uttering a “shit,” under his breath.

You quickly straddled his legs, giving him no time for protest, crawling up and sitting flush on his bulge trying to be mindful of those raw wounds fresh on his sides.

A chorus of expletives left both of your lips the moment your hips grind down searching for friction with your hands pressing firmly to his chest holding him in place. Your aching clit gets some relief, the stiff denim pressing into you sliding down the rigid length of him and back up. A fresh wave of arousal flooding from your core adding to your already ruined panties.

In any other circumstances, you would feel embarrassed rutting up against your best friend like a wild animal in heat, but seeking out and taking what you needed was first and foremost.

You leaned forward, burying your face in his neck, breathing him in.

“I could eat you up.” You whisper, lips grazing just below his ear, teeth nipping at his sensitive skin before your tongue rolls out, languidly licking at his jugular, his pulse thumping wildly against your muscle.

You whine, relishing the salty, earthy and coppery mixture as it settles along your taste buds, feeling him shutter beneath you taking a ragged breath only adding to your desire.

His hands find the plush of your hips, pulling you down to meet an upward thrust that has you leaning back up and moaning out without any regard for his earlier warnings and your promise.

His eyes shot up to you, barely illuminated in the dim light but you were a sight to see.

Your head is thrown back as if you were already in the throes of heady pleasure. Your mouth hung open slightly, another breathy wine escaping as you dragged your hips against his cock once more. Any and all of what was left of his will power was gone. His imagination ran rampant with the thought of you coming undone, falling apart only for him.

In one swift motion, he bucked his hips, gaining momentum to flip you over. Your back hits the mattress, making you gasp sharply as he seated himself between your parted thighs.

Your eyes go wide with surprise when his hand quickly shoots to your mouth, his large palm stifling your sounds.

Leaning further into your space, his lips ghost the shell of your ear as he spoke.

“I'm going to give you what you want but you've got to be quiet. Can you do that for me?”

You nod, fisting the vest in your hands, letting out a small whimper as he slowly took his hand away.

“Use your words, honey.” He scolded.

“Yes, I– I can be quiet.” You breathed out, beginning to feel faint.

“Good girl.” He purred, his words sending your mind into overdrive.

You pawed at his chest, pushing the denim at his shoulders. He sat up, finally pulling it free from his body and tossing it across the room. Your hands roam across the expanse of his chest and broad shoulders.

He reached the hem of your shirt, fingers skirting up your tummy, cool fingertips sending goosebumps across your flesh. You nodded as his eyes caught yours before he quickly pulled it over your head.

He sucked in a sharp breath, watching intently as your chest rose, pushing your breasts against the cups of your bra with each steady inhale, threatening to spill out all on their own before you reached behind, deftly unclasping it and lifting it away.

“Fuck, honey.” His eyes go dark, one of his large hands immediately finding its way to your soft skin. His calloused palm engulfing you as he kneads timidly, at first. You keen into his touch, arching upward, searching for more.

His mouth meets your pert nipple on the other side, swirling his tongue and roughly squeezing the breast under his palm. He nips at the taut bud as if testing the waters, teeth grazing before applying more pressure and immediately soothing the mild sting, laving the wet muscle back across your skin.

To keep from crying out, you bite down on your lip, whimpering as his touch sends shockwaves of pleasure down your body, shooting straight to your core.

He pulls off of you with an audible pop, eyes darting to your face when he feels you trying to push his pants down.

“Please, Steve. I need you! I can't wait.” You hiss out, still trying to maintain a whisper but the longer this keeps getting drawn out the more desperate you become, aching to be filled. An ache that was growing so strong it was boarding on painful.

Dipping your way past his waistband just a moment later, he shudders when your fingertips graze the soft skin of his shaft, wrapping your hand around his girthy cock.

“Oh fuck,” he breathes out, ducking his head into the crook of your neck, trying to muffle his own sounds as you stroke up and back down at an agonizingly slow pace.

Your thumb finds his head, a steady stream of precum already leaking from the tip, swirling your digit in the mess was almost too much as he sinks his teeth into the juncture between your neck and shoulder.

Your mouth fell agape with a silent gasp, a cry caught in your throat as your other hand flew to the back of his head, fingers digging into his locks and tugging harshly. He quickly unhinges his jaw, peppering kisses where his teeth had just been.

“M’sorry,” he mumbles out, pulling back and swatting your hands away from his pants as he sits up.

Your thighs go slack, as he blindly pops the button on your jeans, pulling the zipper down harshly, digging into the denim waistband before you lift your hips aiding in him hastily tugging them and your panties down your legs.

He tosses them somewhere behind him, before standing up and shedding his own pants and boxers, letting them unceremoniously pool at his feet.

Your eyes quickly rove over as much of his naked body as the dim lighting would allow, licking your lips. His cock was standing at full attention, curved slightly upward as he wrapped his own hand around it, pumping it lightly a few times.

His knees find the mattress, planting his hands on your thighs, spreading them apart to accommodate his frame.

Pausing a moment to appreciate the site before him, his fingertips trail the inside of your thigh, inching closer to where you yearn for him the most. You let out a small yelp of surprise when he tightened his grip and pulled you toward him.

“Steve,” you plead, as he ghosts over your slick lips, his thumb and forefinger spread you apart with a sticky release before he finally presses his thumb pad down onto your puffy clit making your hips buck up.

Sensing your urgent need, his finger begins to tease your aching hole, your arousal drips out, as he finally dips in, your hips rising up in time to push his digit further in.

Your head falls back into the pillow, the hand at your hip pushes you flush against the mattress holding you there as he pumps in and out of your tight pussy, quickly adding a second finger to help stretch you out.

“I can smell your needy cunt.” He hisses, practically salivating. Both of your pheromones were in overdrive, your scent wafting through the air like honey, luring him in. A feast begging to be devoured. “I bet you taste just as sweet.”

His words mixed with his current ministrations left you teetering on the edge, his digits stroke up, finding that sweet spot along your frontal wall and just when you were about to fall apart, it suddenly disappeared. Feeling as though it was subdued by some unseen force, leaving you whimpering and unsatisfied, as tears spring to your eyes in frustration.

“Steve, I— it's not working, I need more.” You huff out. It was then you noticed he was fisting his cock, searching for his own release alongside you.

“Fuck, yeah, okay.” He let out a little breathless. “It's not working f’me either.”

You immediately mourn the loss as his fingers slip from you before he promptly shoves them past his lips, humming around the taste, the potent elixir bursting on contact with his taste buds flooding his senses, igniting his insatiable hunger even further.

“Jesus Christ, I fuckin’ knew it.” His pupils dilate, high on the taste of you, a drug he suddenly realized he'll never be able to fully detox from.

He grips the base of his cock with one hand, leaning over and lining himself up with your soaked entrance, pressing the tip in, feeling your gummy walls start to mold around him, as your hands fly up to grip his shoulders.

“Please.” It was a breathy thing, as your muscles instinctually constricted around the welcome intrusion.

He groans, unable to hold himself back any further, snapping his hips and burying himself in one fluid motion. Your pussy gives little resistance between how wet you are and the unrelenting desire to be completely filled.

“Oh God!” Biting back another loud moan being ripped from your chest, digging your teeth into your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood this time, as his thick cock splits you open.

There was a slight burn, as he sat snugly inside your tight channel that quickly gave way to overwhelming pleasure when he pulled back, withdrawing almost completely leaving just his leaking tip before plunging back in, somehow feeling deeper than before.

You muffle your cries the best you can, as he begins to set a near brutal pace. Every thrust pulling little ah, ah, ahs past your lips as your legs tighten around his waist, heels digging into the fat of his ass pushing him further into you.

He hisses and stills when your legs gripping a little too tight, pull his focus from fucking you to the searing pain at his sides. The wounds had been forgotten from the pure ecstasy he was feeling.

“Shit, I'm sorry.” It was enough to knock you from your lust fueled haze momentarily as he pulled out.

“Flip over.” He grunts.

“Wha—” A sharp smack to the side of your thigh has the words dying on your tongue with a gasp.

“Flip. Over.” Repeating himself a little more forcefully. The soft boy next door being replaced with a rougher version, that suddenly had your pussy clenching around nothing at his harsh demeanor.

You rolled onto your stomach, as his hands came to grip your hips with a bruising force, pulling your ass up.

He wastes no time shoving his throbbing length back between your glistening lips, bumping your clit once before slowly guiding his ruddy tip past your entrance, as your cunt flutters around him practically sucking him in.

He's trying to contain his grunts to a minimum, when your noises start to fill the air he brings his palm down hard against your ass, making you jerk away, burying your face in the sheets below with a whine.

“Giving you exactly what you want, and you still can't keep that pretty mouth shut?” He hisses, grinding his hips slowly, to properly scold you. “Feels too good, huh, honey?”

You merely mewl and nod, before another smack echoes around the room, his palm smoothing soothingly over your reddened cheek.

“I asked you a question, honey.” His voice is lazy, dripping sugary sweet condescension.

“Yes, Steve, mmph— it— you feel so, so good.” Finally able to mumble out a coherent sentence.

He smirks, letting a hand slide down the length of your spine, fingers coming up to tangle in the hair at the back of your head before hauling you up, back flush against his sweaty chest.

Winding his arm around your midsection, the other detangles from your hair to cover your mouth as he places a soft kiss to your temple before his hips snap harshly, the new angle making you cry out, but it's muffled with his palm securely placed over your lips.

“Gotta be quiet, remember honey?” He huffs, breath hot against your neck, unrelenting in his conquest to see your demise.

You grip his forearm, nails digging crescents into his skin, hanging on for dear life. Each outward stroke and upward thrust, punching the air from your lungs as your eyes roll back, suddenly careening you toward the edge of oblivion.

His hand helps stifle your moans, blunt fingertips digging into the apple of your cheek, but you can't help the involuntary sounds that continue to slip out.

“Fuck, y—you feel good.” He stutters out, right in your ear. “Pussy feels like it was made f’me. Mmmm. Gripping me so fuckin' tight.”

The hand around your waist starts drifting south, coming to caress your mound momentarily before delving between your folds finding your puffy, neglected clit with expert ease, drawing swift circles against you causing your cunt to constrict around him sending another wave of arousal flooding out, soaking his balls and dripping down your thighs.

“That's it, honey. I promise we'll get there this time.” His cocky demeanor was doing it for you. You'd never seen this side of Steve, taking control, fucking you better than anyone ever had.

“You're going to cum on my cock while I stuff this cunt full.” You whined out at his words, high pitched against his palm. “That's what you want, huh? Fill you up and make it stick? F—fuck I think I'm close.”

You try to nod, letting him know you were too.

The heat that had been simmering for the last hour in your abdomen was finally reaching a boiling point. Pressure was building, as he continued to pound into you, his cock hitting at just the right angle.

Your grip on his forearm tightened, fingernails beginning to draw blood, but he didn't show any signs of distress, never ceasing his movements solely focused on you and the way you felt around him.

You close your eyes, as the flames begin to lick up your spine, spreading further and growing hotter. It was an all-consuming pleasure, your cunt begging for release, begging for his release.

Whatever this pollen had done to the both of you, it was clear it had a driving force with one thing in mind. Procreation. Unsatisfied and unsatiated until you were bursting full of his life giving fluid.

You're finally able to pry his hand away from you to let out one more breathy plea.

“Cum in me, Steve. I— I can't cum, I need you.” Your voice was low and raspy, but he heard you loud and clear.

He fully removed his hand, suddenly pushing you forward. Too weak to fight, your body fell onto the mattress with a small groan as he quickly withdrew himself and manhandled you around to lay on your back.

No matter what this pollen had done to him. He was still Steve deep down and he could never imagine not looking at your beautiful face as you fell apart for the first time. All for him.

He slips off the bed momentarily, picking something up from the floor before crawling back between your legs.

“I'm sorry, honey. You can't stay quiet.” He whispers.

“Wh—,” your question was cut off when he stuffs your filthy panties past your lips for a makeshift gag, kissing your forehead before grabbing the backs of your knees, practically folding you in half.

His palms push you down and hold your thighs open for him as he ruts his cock up through your folds, the tip grazing your clit before catching at your entrance. His head tips down to watch himself slowly disappear into your tight heat.

Your head flies back, feeling every ridge and vein upon his deliberate reentrance, fisting the sheets beneath you as muffled cries echo across the room. He pauses to take delight in the way your face is screwed up with pleasure as he buries himself to the hilt, suddenly wishing he could hear all the pretty sounds you were making unhindered.

He starts to move again, eyes drifting back down to where the two of you connected to watch himself plunge in and out of your soaked pussy, seemingly mesmerized by the way your greedy hole takes him so well but he tears his eyes away when he hears a pained whimper from you, pausing to search your face.

Your eyes were closed, tears flowing down the side of your face, feeling anything but pain as you looked up at him, eyes glazed over, begging him to continue.

Suddenly twitching at the thought of his impending release, he grinds his hips back into yours. The wiry thatch of hair at the base of his cock catching your clit just right, wrenching another moan from you as you nod at him to keep going.

He starts to thrust again but can tell he's close as his balls begin to draw up, and lower stomach tightens. Skin to skin doesn't seem to be enough when there's a sudden overwhelming need to be closer. He wants to crawl under your skin and embed himself there.

He releases the hold on your legs, letting them ease back to the bed as he drapes himself over you, caging you in. The hair on his chest grazes your nipples with each thrust only adding to your sensations as your hands find purchase on his back.

Holding himself up on one elbow his palm finds your breast, pressing and kneading before his mouth finds the other, sucking a little harshly leaving the top of your chest with a dark reminder as your body arches upward, craving more. His tongue moves over your pebbled nipple before he latches on.

It suddenly feels like he's everywhere all at once. Hands roaming, mouth hot as his cock continues to carve its way into your guts.

He pops off momentarily, sensing a shift in you because he can feel it too.

“You gonna cum with me, honey?” You look up into his eyes, a black abyss. The familiar hazel irises are nowhere to be found. Your best friend now hell bent on ruining you for any other man.

You nod, with a muffled “mmhmm” hoping to God you can finally crest over the precipice.

“Wrap your legs around me.” He hums, hiking your thigh up his hip. Your brows marry with confusion because of the day's earlier blunder.

“It's ok.” He soothes your worry away, large hand gripping your ass as he continues to grind down.

You do as he says, wrapping them around his torso, locking your ankles at the base of his spine. He winces only once before focusing all his concentration on pumping in and out, in and out. Making sure to tilt his pelvis on the upward thrust, simultaneously stimulating that spot deep within you and brushing your clit.

This was it. Fading embers reignited as flames slowly fanned across your lower abdomen. Your brain is all but mush, yearning for a release that only he can provide.

“I'm close.” He hisses out with a grunt, burying his head into your neck. His breath fans hot across you as he starts to whine and mutter. “M’gonna fill this pussy full. F–fuck my goddamn load so far into you. Mmpmh, is that– that’s what you want?”

A few more erratic thrusts before he pushes in so deep that his head is kissing the crown of your cervix. Your walls clamp down around him, holding him in place before his cock twitches and begins to spurt his release into your greedy womb.

Your body reacts suddenly, hot white heat floods your core with the hardest orgasm you've ever experienced. Everything around you seems to fade, as a blinding white light bursts behind your eyelids. Your cunt spasms around him, milking everything he had to give, he groans almost painfully but the sound seems so far away. If you weren't lying underneath him you would have sworn you could float away.

Your chests heave against one another as his body goes limp, crushing you in the best possible way. The lust fueled haze was extinguished with your release, leaving you tired and spent.

His softening dick kicks up a few more times making you whimper as your legs and arms fall away from him, utterly and completely exhausted.

You're pulled out of your blissful afterglow when he pulls your panties from your mouth. Humming as you close your mouth, dry and parched, smacking your lips together softly.

You still had your eyes closed, as his hand comes tp to caress your jaw, thumb running tenderly across the apple of your cheek as you both came down from your highs.

“You ok?” He asked timidly, as you nod with a “mmhmm.”

“I didn't hurt you, did I?” The sweet, caring best friend returning to his senses, as you reply a low “no.”

“Good.” He whispers back, pressing a kiss to the side of your mouth.

“Steve?” Managing to croak out, voice hoarse and rough.

“Hmmnh?” He manages, eyes fixated where the two of you were still connected, finally pulling his softening cock free, your mixed fluids flooding from your spent hole. He had the urge to shove it back in, but stopped himself.

“I was going to jump in first,” you whispered out, as his head shot up to look at you. You were completely dazed, on the verge of sleep.

“What?” He asked, easing himself back, eyes roving over your body littered with bruises and bitemarks. Proof that he hadn't experienced some sort of upside down drug induced hallucination.

“The lake.” You hummed. “Robin stopped me.” Yawning before continuing. “I would've jumped in first.”

“Yeah?” He asks, smiling softly to himself, easing beside you, brushing the loose strands of hair from your face. Spending a few more minutes tangled up in you, before the weight of reality would inevitably come crashing back down.

“Mmhmm. I'd go anywhere with you.” You confess, wrapping your arms around his middle as he pulls you into his chest. If he's being completely honest with himself, he's been in love with you for years. He would've jumped in head first if the tables were turned, he just didn't want anything to happen to you.

“I know, honey. I'd—,” a loud banging at the front door startling you both from your daydream, as he rose up ready for anything.

He hurried to get his clothes back on, throwing your bra and shirt up to you as he walked out into the hall leaving you to get dressed.

He could hear muffled voices behind the door. Your friends had circled back to find you.

Everyone stopped talking as soon as he threw open the door looking a little worse for wear.

“Oh thank God!” Robin was the first to speak, reaching out and grabbing his shoulders. “What the hell happened to you?”

“We're fine Rob,” Stepping back and letting them enter the small space, hand rubbing the back of his neck. “The bats chased us here, stuck around a while but we're fine.”

They were all chatting when you finally walked into the room clearing your throat as everyone whipped their heads around, eyes all going a little wide at your appearance.

Robin's gaze flitted your neck, as she sent you a knowing look, raising her eyebrows causing you to pull the collar of your shirt over the exposed skin as your cheeks heated.

“Seriously?!” She smacked Steve's arm, looking wide eyed back to him. “Down here? I mean, it's about time. You've only been dying to confess your feelings for wh—”

“Robin!” He hissed out, cutting off her rambling. “Stop!”

She slapped her hand over her mouth, looking over to your confused expression.

“Can uh, you guys give us a minute?” He asked, hands falling to his hips, as they all looked between each other before heading back out the door. Robin mouthed a “sorry” your way, shutting the door behind her.

“Feelings, huh?” Toeing at a small rock on the floor instead of meeting his gaze.

“Fuck. Well, yeah. It's you. How could I not?” He sighed. “But, we seriously don't ever have to talk about this again. Pretend it never happened and feelings aside, you're still my best friend.”

“What if I don't want to forget?” You bit the inside of your lip as your mouth curled into a shy grin. “And…” Taking a step toward him. “What if I told you I had feelings for you too?”

“Yeah?” He asked, reaching out to haul you in close, as you took another step.

“Yeah.” Your hands taking hold of Eddie's vest, curling into his chest. “And, once we get out of here, maybe we can try all of this again?” His face lit up, as you smiled at him. “Without the raging, horny sex pollen?”

You both huffed a laugh, relaxing into each other.

“Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that.” He nods, excitement blooming in his chest.

“C’mon handsome, let's get out of here.” Your hand found his, sending him a small giggle as you pulled him toward the door to rejoin your friends.

Despite the dismal cloud looming above he had a feeling that everything would work out this time.

Tagging a few mooties that might be interested (and please let me know if you don't want to be tagged!): @thecreelhouse @teen--marvel @bunnyhargrove @xxbimbobunnyxx

And also: @crybabyddl (since you asked!) 🙂

[dearest-nell]

morning person

s. harrington x reader, 2.8k

summary: a snapshot into the morning routine of steve harrington, now that the two of you have moved in together includes: established steve x reader, domestic fluff, steve is a busybody. warnings: literally none except i am still incapable of proofreading properly

a/n: honestly if anyone has any requests i would love to hear them, or just want to chat about this show that has ruined my life, because i'm spiralling into obsession over here.

People who complain about mornings have obviously never spent one waking up beside Steve Harrington, this you’re sure of. Because if they had, then they would know there was nothing in the world so deliciously saccharine than that drowsy, softened look on his face as he blinks the sleep away from mingling eyelashes, his lips curving upwards into a dreamy sort of smile. This isn’t even the first time he has awoken this morning. 

Steve Harrington is a morning person – an early riser, a dawn greeter, a restless child on christmas day. His body clock is set as the sun begins to kiss the horizon, his eyes blinking open into a dark, cool bedroom. New. This bedroom is new. He is still getting used to it, this apartment, a dingy one bedroom located just a few blocks from the rougher side of town. It’s a far cry from the mansion he used to live in, small and outdated and a little worse for wear, if he were to say so himself, but it’s home. It’s home because it’s his, and it’s home because it’s yours. You rent it together, bills strung haphazardly from paychecks of jobs you’d both rather live without. Steve doesn’t mind that he still works at the video store, not when it lights up the lamp on his bedside, or cooks the pasta on your shitty gas top that flickers every so often. He needs to call the service guy, now that he thinks about it, but it’s too early to matter. 

He can feel the heat of your body pressed in beside him, curled in on yourself, face buried into the pillow now folding creases into your skin, shoulders rising and falling in a steady rhythm. You have never been a morning person, he learned rather early on. You’re delirious, and grumpy, and still so beautiful despite the glare in your eyes when he used to wake you, and now, he knows to let you sleep. His impatience to rouse you, to kiss you and touch you is an urge he’s learned to swallow, so he pauses for a moment simply to stare, to smile to himself at the way you mumble in your dreams. 

He has the time, he thinks, considering it’s still dark out, and his shift at the store is not due for half a morning away, so he lets himself linger, tucked into the warmth of bedsheets as he works up the courage to leave it. He knows he needs to, that he’ll feel better if he does, that the routine always pays off even if it means parting from you. The air will be chilly outside, but he needs the cold to clear his head. His morning run is his time, after all. It gives him the solitude to consider, to plan, to unwind. 

He slips from the bed, careful footsteps walking a still unfamiliar path through the bedroom, boxes stacked against a near wall still unpacked from the move. His sneakers are in the wardrobe, well placed for a quick pick up, though he hasn’t accounted for his discarded shirt rippled right in his path. He trips, stumbling slightly, cursing himself as the thud that resounds as heavy feet meet the floorboards. He turns with a cringe, hearing you stir, though you do not rise as you wriggle deeper into yellow linens, disappearing beneath the comforter. 

He’s quick to dress, not wanting to risk another incident and the wrath of your disturbed sleep, slipping out into the living room to tie his shoes, still half asleep and blinking blearily. Despite its flaws, he likes this apartment more than he thought possible. There’s a passthrough between the kitchen and the living room that lets him talk to you as he cooks, you hanging over the bench to smile at him, pressing kisses into his shoulder when he dares to come too close. There’s a strange nook that sits in the wall by the door, one that now holds your keys and bumble bee umbrella, though neither of you are too sure why it was built in the first place. There’s a flat expanse outside the bathroom window that you want to build a flower box into, though Steve is yet to determine how, since neither of you are particularly good at D.I.Y. He loves this second hand couch Eddie found on the curb, loves the strange, abstract art piece Will designed for you both as a housewarming, loves the ceramic clown that Robin stole from an overpriced giftshop to hide in one of your moving boxes, now settled in the bookshelf beside an array of half read novels between you. 

He’s building a life here with you, and Steve is trying his best to remind himself of it every chance he get. There will be Christmases spent in these walls, games night drinks spilled on this carpet, and so many I love you kisses pressed to smiling cheeks beside that front door – he hardly knows how to contain the excitement for it all, even as he ties his laces. 

The morning is colder than he expected, but Steve has never been one to check the weather even now, even after he caught a cold from a raining run one morning, taking himself straight to work rather than home to you to shower. He figure’s he’ll wing it, deal with the consequences as they come, and enjoy the way you dote on him as he whines and groans in his flu like delirium days later. Cold, but not raining, he knows he’ll be fine this time. 

He’s been planning out this new jogging route as he goes, still learning the maps and turns of each new lane. He’d never been to this part of town much before the move, but he’s starting to acclimate one run at a time. It’s not too far from Hawkins, after all. It still feels like a familiar place, but it’s closer to the community college to save you the travel time. Steve’s a visual learner, after all. It gives him the roadmap that he’ll need to plan out his week. He’s taking himself the long way just to jot down the layout; the farmers market, the hardware store, the cafe with the good coffee. He waves to the people he passes by, few and far between, trying to appear friendly. He doesn’t know yet the culture of this community, but he’s eager to make a good impression. He recognises the old man who runs the news agency, stops to chat as they talk about the community centre. Steve’s agreed to volunteer for the refurbishment, he’s hoping it’ll help you both settle in, and you’ve promised to bake up your best batch of pastries to feed the hungry husbands as they work. Steve’s not yet a husband, but he’s planning on changing that in due time. 

The sun mingling with the clouds by the time he departs again, his pace quickening through midtown suburbia to take him home. The paperboy is tossing rolls at the doors, barely breaking on his bike as he passes house after house. Steve moves onto the road to avoid any collisions, shaking his head as the teen wheels off past a corner. He hasn’t even thought about his week yet, he realises, and his pace drops in consideration. There’s a stocktake coming up at work that will take more energy than he has to give, his parents are due over for dinner later in the week (he’s hoping they’ll cancel), and Robin has booked him tickets to some kind of gig that he’s certain he’ll hate. He mentally notes the checklist – things to buy, things to do, things to clean – now able to see his lot clearly without the buzz of a busy world around him. His days run smoother this way, alone, soles beating against the pavement. It starts him on the right foot. 

He’s out of breath when he arrives back on your block, panting heavily without the grace of a water bottle. He knows he should have brought one, but there’s no point stewing on it now. His thighs ache as he climbs the staircase, three flights of stairs his least favourite part of coming home. He can’t imagine hauling groceries up this stairwell is going to be an enjoyable weekly endeavour, but for the price of rent, he’s willing to make the effort, even with a slightly busted knee. 

He’s a little louder than he wants to be as he eases open the lock, slipping into a slightly brighter apartment than when he left. He doesn’t think you’re awake, but he takes pause to slow himself down, turning into the kitchen instead of the bedroom. Steve clicks on the faucet, hanging his head below the tap to let the cool water run directly into his mouth. He lacks grace as he guzzles down half a litre, droplets trickling down his cheeks and chin into unclean dishes from the night before. There’s urgency, he decides, in this drink. No type for a cup, no time to pause. He pulls away gasping, wiping a cupful of water across his sweat slicken face, unable to suck enough breath into his lungs. He leans back against the benchtop, eyes pressed skyward to focus on slowing himself down, letting his heart rate drop back to a blissful pace. 

He knows he should shower, but more than anything, he’s aching to get back between the sheets with you. It’s funny how he still misses you when you’re not within reach, even for an hour, even when he knows you’re still wrapped up tight in the comforts of his bed. It feels wrong to love a person this much, like he shouldn’t be made to feel so much, so deeply, every passing minute of every passing day. But he does. He knows he’s not the first to feel such a love, but he thinks he might be the only one regardless, because no one else has you. He thinks it’s strange that everyone in the world isn’t aching to be by your side, that hearts all over the town aren’t skipping beats at the wideness of your smile, the curve of your shoulder, the tickle of your laugh. This love must be special, then, because how else can he be the only one so enamoured by you. 

He forces himself into the shower, the water not yet warm even as he sinks his head beneath the stuttering stream. The pipes are old, though a cold shower bothers him far less than it bothers you. He’ll be out quicker this way. He is less thorough in his cleaning than he thinks he ought to be, scrubbing furiously at his body with the loofah you bought him, scraping sweat and red streaks into a now fading tan. He’s seeing the sun less these days in the dead of autumn, but he’ll make it up later. Right now, all he is focused on is climbing back into his bed, his skin stained with a citrus scent embedded into the new soap you had bought. It’s not his usual brand, but he thinks he likes the change anyways. It reminds him of summer picnics with you, fingers digging into orange peels, juices dribbling down his fingers until he tears out slices one by one. The scent lingers, filled with your orange flavoured kisses and sun streaked highlights burning into his mind, and yes, he thinks, the change isn’t so bad. 

He shuts off the tap, yanking his towel from the rack to pat himself dry, hair shaking out like a puppy dog with rambunctious excitement to be on his way. He doesn’t bother to redress, dropping the towel to the floor without focus, padding back towards your bedroom. You’re exactly how he left you, though a little more illuminated in the morning light. You’ve wiggled out of the blanket again, one foot kicked out to the side to regulate your body temperature, one hand reaching out towards his side of the bed. You reach for him in your sleep sometimes, and he hates the idea of not being there for you when you do. 

He clambers into bed his eagerness betraying his stealth, expert hands lifting your arm up for him to slide under, hanging it securely over his waist as he settles into the warm dip of the mattress. Your body responds instinctively, rolling into him with a groan, still not quite awake, though he can tell you’re not so far off. He runs fingers through your hair, trying to stave off your inevitable waking for as long as he can manage. Your alarm isn’t due for another hour, and he wants every second before that  spent just like this.

He doesn’t mean to fall back asleep, but sleep takes him anyways, his eyes blinking shut under the hypnotic pattern of your breathing beside him. He’ll wake up again groggier now, but there is nothing to be done to change it. He tugs you in closer, rougher in his sleep, his neediness permeating his unconscious mind until you’re pressed square against him. The movement spurs you awake, slowly and unintentionally, though it takes you a moment to understand why. 

There he is, your man, your darling boy, mouth hanging open with quiet, rumbling snores, arms wrapped around you in a protective lock. He’s never looked more beautiful, even with your eyes out of focus, one closed and pressed into the fabric of your pillowcase. You can smell the soap, feel the softness of his now cleansed skin beneath your curious fingertips, and you know he’s already been out of bed. He tries his best not to fall back asleep, but your smile curves wider to be blessed to see it. There’s a jealousy in you, after all, that he gets to watch you sleep so often. Times like these are rare, when you awaken first, and you’re greedy in your enjoyment of them. You’d take a picture if you thought you could reach the camera, but the moment would spoil, you were sure. You commit it to memory instead, every dip and curve and freckle and hair burned into your head until it’s all you can see. You want his face to be a fading image that blinks to life behind every close of your eyes, an after image repeating itself well into the day when you’re far away from him. 

He is so lovely, and you are so in love. 

The alarm breaks the two of you out of your reverie, your body jolting at the surprise of it. Steve is slower to start this time, groaning a drunken sort of sound as you slam your hand down on the rattling clock. His arm tightens around you, dragging you until your body is half wedged under his own, your giggles drowning out into muffled chuckles as your face burrows into the crook of his neck. 

“I fell back asleep.” He mutters, closing his eyes with a sigh. 

“I know.” You coo back, adjusting the curve of your back to a more comfortable position, tangling legs between his own until you’re thoroughly wrapped. 

“You sound awake.” He mumbles back, squeezing at your waist with unmasked affection. “Were you up?” 

“Yeah.” It’s an airy sort of confession, made to match the tender strokes of fingers reaching to scrape lovingly at his scalp. “Just watchin’ you sleep.” 

“Perv.” He teases, kissing at your hair, mouth hungry and missing your skin entirely. He lights up as you giggle, his head lifting with heavy blinks to gaze down at you, hair pressed upwards into a lopsided mess. You do your best to pat it down for him. “You like what you see?” 

You crook your head to the side, focusing your gaze in a tender expression. “Something like that.” His brow arches curiously, leaving you to laugh again. “I love you, you moron.” 

His smile widens, head dropping to nuzzle his nose roughly into your cheek, lips catching on your jaw every so often with exaggerated noises of enthusiasm. “Love you too, baby.” 

There is silence for a minute, nothing but his lips dragging affection across the planes of your cheek, his hands wandering underneath the fold of your bedshirt to press fingertips into fading stretch marks across your hips. You’re worried he’ll fall asleep again, and you know you don’t have the heart today to wake him a second time. 

“You want breakfast? I can make jam on toast?” 

He hums a happy sound, though does nothing to release his grip on you. “Yeah, okay. Gonna have to escape me, though. Can’t make my arm move.” 

He pretends to try and shuffle his grip, putting on a little show with a pout when his hold does not dislodge. You roll your eyes, brushing the pad of your thumb against his brow bone. 

“Five more minutes, then.” 

Steve was back asleep within three.

[steeldaisies]

Eddie imagine:

Imagine Eddie writing into every D&D campaign, a character that falls in love with your character. Or npc couples that are exactly like the two of you. You ask him one day why he does this. He just answered so casually like it was common knowledge, “because I’ll love you in every universe, time, and everything in between.”

[springtyme]

Steve request! Reader dragging dr*gged up S3 Steve and Robin around the mall with Dustin and Erica and every chance he gets to flirt with r he takes (you can totally ignore this if you want!)

𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 ♡

Thank you for the request, hun! I loved this idea, and it was so much fun to write <3

Steve Harrington x f!reader || Masterlist || Steve playlist

summary: Throughout your entire friendship with Steve, you've always had terrible timing. But having him confess to you while drugged out of his mind and running from Russian spies might take the cake.

word count: 3.5k

warning/tags: Idiots in love. Childhood best friends. Mention of Steve and Robin being drugged, and Steve's bruises and dried blood. This turned out a lot different and a lot longer than I had first planned, but I do fear I suffer from too much gene. I haven't proofread this, so there might be a few mistakes.

The hum of the fluorescent lights buzz overhead as you try to navigate through the nearly-deserted mall, your heart pounding for reasons beyond the simple adrenaline of running for your life. Your grip on Steve’s arm is firm, trying your best to keep him steady while keeping an eye on Dustin and Erica who are leading Robin after you. 

“C’mon, Steve,” you huff as Steve stumbles over his own feed. He is leaning against you, his usually bright eyes glazed over but still sparkling with mischief. He is truly an absurd sight right now in his Scoops Ahoy uniform, a goofy grin on his heavily bruised face. He has patches of dried blood at the corner of his mouth and on his chin, and the area around his right eye is purple and swollen. Having him drugged out of his mind is far from ideal right now, and you hate not knowing what they injected him with, but you can’t help but feel a little thankful that whatever it is seems t o take his pain. “We have to keep moving.” 

Steve lets out a soft chuckle, the sound slightly slurred, yet still unmistakably sweet to your ears. “You’re really taking charge here, huh? Who knew you could be so bossy?” he teases, leaning a little too heavily against you, making you stumble a little to the side. You roll your eyes at his playfulness, trying to focus on the task at hand which Steve seemingly doesn’t have a single concern over right now.

“Yeah, yeah, bossy but effective,” you shoot back, glancing over your shoulder to make sure the kids and Robin are still behind you, before giving Steve a little push to keep him moving.

He just giggles, flashing you that charming smile that always makes your heart skip a beat—even now, with the haze of whatever the Russians had pumped him full of filtering his brain. “Very effective,” he replies, his voice a drunken whisper as he leans closer, as if sharing a delightful secret. 

“What the hell did they give you two?” you mutter as you stumble slightly to the side from Steve’s weight before catching yourself.   

“I don’t know,” he says, stretching his arms out dramatically, nearly losing his balance again. “But I like it!” he declares, throwing his head back and laughing. 

“I like it too!” Robin chimes in from behind, her voice slightly loopy and higher than usual as she, too, joins in on Steve’s laughing fit. You try to shush them, but your warning only fuels their giggles.

The sound of their laughter echoes through the, luckily nearly-empty, corridor of the mall you’re currently navigating. You huff in frustration, trying to maintain your composure amid the surreality of the moment, glancing around to ensure no one is noticing. “Guys, shh! We don’t want to attract any attention.” 

When Steve leans in again, his breath is warm against your ear, making it increasingly difficult to focus. “I think you’re the one attracting all the attention,” he whispers, a teasing smirk on his lips as he fixes you with a gaze that manages to be both hazy yet intense. The closeness of his body to yours sends a jolt of warmth pulsing through you, even amid the chaos surrounding your group.

 “Can you not flirt right now, Steve? We’re literally dodging a Russian military operation!” Dustin exclaims in exasperation from a few paces behind, his frustration evident as he pulls Robin along, who’s still hanging on to some bizarre delight in the situation. 

“Stop being jealous, Henderson,” Steve shoots back playfully as he sways slightly, and you have to quickly adjust to keep him from toppling over. “Just because your so-called girlfriend is all the way in Utah.” He points dramatically back at Dustin, making Robin break out in laughter again. 

“Focus, guys!” you insist, your voice low but firm. “Just follow me and try to stay quiet, okay?” You force yourself to focus on the path ahead, but every other second you glance to the side at Steve. He winks at you this time, the move so exaggerated that it comes off as almost comical, a poorly executed attempt at charm. 

“Oh, I’ll always follow you, to the end of the world,” he slurs.

“If you say so,” you murmur, which makes Steve knit his eyebrows, doing his best to appear thoughtful, though it only makes him appear more ridiculous. 

“Well, can you blame me? You’re the best,” he declares, sincerity mixed with the haze of his drugged state. “And, not to mention, like��� the coolest girl in Hawkins.”

“Shut up, Steve,” you huff, trying to ignore how flustered his compliment makes you feel. 

“Are you gonna make me?” he challenges, raising an eyebrow before stumbling again and you have to swiftly tuck him back under your arm to keep him upright. You barely manage to catch him this time, your heart racing as he leans into you completely, resting his head against your shoulder.

“Just stay on your feet, okay?” you say, your voice carrying a mix of annoyance and affection. You truly can’t believe what’s happening right now.

You have been in love with Steve for what feels like a lifetime, having to watch him date and break up with countless girls, without him ever once seeming to realize the way you felt about him. But now, in a moment where he’s utterly out of it, after being drugged by Russian spies and running for your lives, he flirts with you. It feels like a cruel joke.  

“Okay, okay, I will stay on my feet,” Steve promises, straightening up (or at least attempting to) and puffing out his chest in an attempted display of bravado. It’s a strangely endearing sight, one that almost makes you forget, for a split second, the insane situation you’re fleeing.

The four of you keep moving, dodging through the mall until you finally spot a small storage room with a heavy door slightly ajar and you make a quick decision. The Russians took Steve’s car keys and Steve and Robin are still way too out of it, you need a break from running around so you can figure out what to do.   

“Erica, Dustin, we’re going in here,” you instruct, pulling the door open wider and pushing Steve inside before ushering Robin in with a gentle nudge, making sure Dustin and Erica follow closely behind before joining them, shutting the door behind you, the lock clicking into place.

Inside, the air is heavy with the scent of dust and industrial cleaner, and the dim light offers a brief reprieve from the chaos outside. Steve and Robin slumps against the wall, chuckling, seemingly entertained by the situation.

“Are you two okay?” you ask, turning towards Dustin and Erica.

“Yeah, we are fine, but those two?” Erica says, hands on her hips as she looks over at Steve and Robin who are giggling to each other with the kind of carefree joy that can only really come from being blissfully unaware of the danger surrounding them.

“Are you two okay?” you ask, more pointedly this time, directing your concern towards Steve and Robin. 

They briefly pause their laughter, turning their silly, unfocused gazes to you, their expressions shifting from amusement to a classic ‘who, us?’ look.

“More than okay. I feel amazing!” Robin announces with a giggle, her voice a bit too loud for the cramped space, her laughter filling the confined space. She barely seems aware of the tension in the air, her cheeks flushed from the adrenaline and whatever the Russians had spiked her with. You, on the other hand, take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart and the whirlwind of emotions inside you. 

“Well, there’s your answer, they are okay too,” you say, trying to keep your composure. They are clearly not okay, but there is not much you can do about it right now, most likely the drug will start to wear off sooner or later and all you can do is wait for that. In the meantime you have to figure out what to do. 

“Dustin help me move this crate,” you direct, pointing to a heavy storage crate in the corner. “Erica make sure those two stay put and somewhat quiet,” you say, trying to sound authoritative  . 

After a little bit of struggle you and Dustin get the crate and get the door barricaded before he joins Erica and the others and you take an inventory of the room—cleaning supplies, an old mop, and shelves lined with boxes. Nothing particularly useful to escape a Russian army, but at least it’s quiet.

You have just peaked your head out of a box, in which you finally had found something useful, as Steve, who apparently had maneuvered over to you, tries to lean on a shelf, but ends up leaning too heavily and almost toppling down. You rush forward to catch him before he hits the ground, your heart racing as you feel the warmth of his body against yours. 

“Whoa, careful,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. The way he grins at you is both charming and infuriating, a painful reminder of why your heart races despite the absurdity of your current situation. “I thought I told you to stay put,” you scold gently, trying to mask the concern lacing your voice with a little frustration. 

“I missed you,” he replies, resting his head against the shelf beside you, the admission slipping out with an exaggerated, almost theatrical sweetness. 

“I was only a few feet away, Steve,” you remind him. 

“I know, but… you were still too far away,” he responds, tilting his head to meet your eyes, his gaze is a little more lucid, he is still out of it, but there is an earnestness that transcends any drug haze. “And I told you I’d follow you to the end of the world, remember.” There’s honesty in his tone that tugs at your heartstrings, and for a moment, you’re taken aback by his words.

“That’s sweet, Steve,” you say, giving him a little smile, which he reciprocates tenfold, clearly pleased to have garnered a smile from you. “Now look what I found,” you say, pulling out the first aid kit you had found from the box you were rummaging through before.  

“Uuuh,” he drawls as he leans closer, inspecting the kit with an hindering interest.

“Wanna come here and sit with me?” you ask, gesturing over to the crate by the door. 

“Always,” he replies, grinning as he attempts to maneuver himself but ends up colliding with the shelf instead. You can’t help but laugh a little as you reach out to steady him again, your hands brushing against his sides as you guide him over to the crest and help him sit down.

“I’m gonna clean you up a little, is that okay?” you ask softly, clicking open the first aid kit, trying your best to try ignoring the chaos that lingers just outside the door.

“That would be nice... You’re so nice,” he replies, before resting his head back against the wall, a goofy smile plastered on his face as he looks up at you with such admiration that it feels like the world has shrunk down to just the two of you in that dimly lit storage room. You  feel that familiar rush of affection as you watch him. Drugged or not, he radiates that special warmth that brings a flutter to your heart. 

 “Okay, this might hurt a little, but try not to move, I promise to be gentle,” you say, pulling open an antiseptic wipe. You take a moment to steel yourself, your heart sinking as you study the bruises that mar his otherwise perfectly chiseled features. It must hurt, but he seems completely unfazed by it, lost in the bliss of his inebriated state. 

“Oh, you’re always gentle with me, even when you’re mean.” His voice is filled with a warm admiration. You can’t help but roll your eyes, a smile creeping onto your lips as you dab the antiseptic wipe against a cut on his cheek.

“When am I ever mean to you?” you ask him, focusing on wiping the blood from his chin while trying to ignore the way his gaze makes the air feel thick with unsaid emotions.

Steve chuckles softly, the sound warm and syrupy in the dim light of the storage room. “You’re always calling me an idiot, and you give me that look—” he pauses, his hazy expression suddenly serious, though it’s still marred by a goofy smile. 

You frown, momentarily caught off guard by his sudden shift in demeanor. “What look?” you ask, your brows knitting together in confusion. 

“That one! The one that says I’m a total dork who couldn’t find his own feet without you,” he replies, his tone teasing but somehow more sincere than usual. He tilts his head slightly, trying to penetrate the fog of the drug clouding his thoughts. “But, I know what you really mean. You just care. Besides, I like when you’re mean. It’s pretty hot…”

Your heart skips a beat at his admission. He’s always known just how to get under your skin, but this is different—this feels more intimate, more real, especially given the current circumstances. “You might only think that because you’re high,” you counter, trying to play it cool despite the heat creeping up your neck and cheeks. 

He knits his brows, looking up at you like you just gave him the world’s meanest insult. “Nah, I mean it,” he insists, his eyes wide and sincere, though still glazed with that loopy energy.

“Maybe keep that thought for when you’re not under the influence of whatever crap those Russians gave you. I doubt you would say all this.” You carefully dab at his split lip, your fingers brushing against his skin, feeling the warmth radiating from him. Somehow, it all feels surreal—this moment shared in the darkness, just you and Steve.

“Doesn’t matter, really. Even if they hadn’t—” He pauses, searching your eyes, and for the first time, you can’t help but notice the flicker of something deeper in his gaze. “I would’ve said it anyway. You have always been the one, you know?”

Your breath catches in your throat—what does he mean by ‘the one?’ You blink, trying to find your voice. “Steve—”

“No, wait. Let me finish,” he interrupts, shifting closer, entirely oblivious to the way butterflies have taken flight in your stomach. “I don’t know if we are getting caught by Russian spies, so please listen,” he says earnestly, and in that drugged haze, it feels deeply sincere, stripped of pretense or playful banter.

“I know I’ve been a total idiot when it comes to, well… everything, but especially with you. I just… I was scared. Scared to ruin our friendship.” 

You hold your breath, caught up in the gaze of the boy you’ve loved for as long as you can remember. A part of you wants to stop him, to put your hands over his mouth and make him stop spilling his unfiltered, drug induced thoughts, but you feel like you’re frozen.

“Even when I was a total jerk in high school, even when I was wrapped up in all those other girls, I always wanted it to be you. You’re… special to me. You always have been. You always save me from myself, you know? And not just today... but like, all the time.” His voice lowers to a near whisper as if he is sharing a secret that only the two of you exist to hear.

Your heart races, a torrent of emotions coursing through you. The words are both a balm and a weight, wrapping around you tightly.

“Steve… I…” You struggle for the right words as the weight of their significance swings like a pendulum between you. You love him, have done for years, and hearing him voice sentiments that resonate so deeply makes your heart ache—in a good way, but still aching hard. “Why would you think you’d ruin our friendship?” you ask, your voice gentle but firm. You’d buried your feelings for so long, only to have them rise unfiltered at this moment. 

“I thought—” He sighs, running a hand through his messy, yet somehow still perfect, hair, an absent gesture still filled with that same childhood charm you had known since you were kids. “I thought that I’d never be able to look at you if you didn’t feel the same way.” He chuckles softly, but it’s tinged with an undercurrent of sadness. “But now, I think—I mean, right now it feels like that doesn’t really matter. I have an assumption that I might be a little bit out of it right now, but I’m not that out of it, like… I am still here, in front of you. And if I die today because those Russians catch us, I just… I need you to know that you’ve always been the one for me, ‘cause I don’t want to die, or end up in a gulag, without you knowing that.”   

His confession hangs in the air between you like a fragile thread—part of you fears that it may unravel at any moment. Your pulse quickens as you dare to let yourself bask in the warmth of what he is saying. A weight lifts from your shoulders, giving way to a sense of hope you hadn’t anticipated.

“You wouldn’t ruin anything, Steve. I promise.” You take his hand in yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I think we will have to talk about this later though, when we aren’t fleeing for our lives. But thank you for telling me.” 

“Yeah… yeah, definitely later,” he agrees, a mix of urgency and longing mixing in the hazy look lining his features. 

You interlace your fingers, giving his hand another squeeze. If you’re actually making it out of this crazy situation, and when Steve isn’t drugged out of his mind and can confirm that he actually meant all that he just said, you’re gonna kiss him silly. But for now, the moment hangs in the air like a delicate suspension bridge, strung tightly between adrenaline and longing, with the threat of the outside world looming just beyond the door.

“Uhm, are you two good?” Erica interrupts, her voice cutting through the thick tension in the air. You whip your head around to find her standing with her arms crossed, raised eyebrow, looking way too sassy for a ten year old. Robin is propped against the far wall, watching with wide eyes and a goofy grin plastered on her face.

“Yeah, we’re good,” you respond quickly, feeling a hot flush rush to your cheeks as you release Steve’s hand, the warmth of his skin lingering even as you separate.

Steve shifts, nudging you playfully with his shoulder as he leans back against the wall. “Just bonding over our collective trauma, you know?” he says, his tone light but his eyes still holding that depth, the seriousness lingering just beneath the surface.

“Right, because that’s totally normal,” Dustin mutters sarcastically, eyeing the two of you with a knowing look. “Just keep it PG. Kissing isn’t going to save us from the Russians.” 

“We weren’t kissing,” you exclaim immediately, your heart racing as you avoid making eye contact with Steve, who wears a grin that communicates far too much mischief for your sanity.

“Oh, please,” Erica scoffs, rolling her eyes. “We all saw you two get all mushy. If we weren’t in the middle of a hostage situation, I might actually find it cute.” Robin giggles beside her, clearly entertained by the unfolding drama.

“Shut up, guys,” you mutter, suddenly very much aware of the heat flooding your veins. You can feel Steve’s gaze on you, and even in his loopy state, there’s an intensity that makes your stomach flutter. The last thing you need is the audience right now, especially when it involves Dustin and a ten-year-old like Erica, who take far too much joy in teasing you about this kind of stuff.

“Okay, lovebirds,” Robin slurs out with a giggle, leaning her head against the wall with a dreamy smile. “At least we know you’re safe together. Just don’t let those spy guys catch you making out in here. That would be truly embarrassing.”

“Thanks, Robin,” you reply dryly, your cheeks still flushed with heat. The absurdity of being stuck in a storage room, surrounded by your friends while hiding from Russian agents, yet feeling like the most pivotal moment of your life is unfolding, is almost laughable.

“Can we please focus on survival rather than on whatever is going on right now?” Dustin groans, exasperated. 

“We most certainly can,” you reply, helping Steve, who keeps looking at you like you hung the moon, up from the crate and onto his feet again, but you keep your fingers interlocked as you help him over to the others again.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs and comments are always greatly appreciated ♡

[usedtobecooler]

gator tillman has you bent into a mating press, knees practically knocking your skull as he folds you in two, cock prodding you so deep with each relentless thrust you swear he’s in your damn guts.

“listen to ya, screamin’ and cryin’ for me like a good girl, eh?” gator grins from above you, the slaps of skin on skin practically drowning him out as he sinks into your tight heat over and over, “shit, m’i that good for ya, hon?”

“best fuck i ever had, daddy,” your voice cracks, pleading as the word tumbles from your mouth unexpectedly, but you’re so lost in the throes of it that you can’t find it in yourself to even feel embarrassed. you screw your eyes shut, a lump in your throat as you silently plead that he didn’t hear.

“holy— fuck, oh—“ gator’s voice is high pitched, pinched as he looks at you like he’s been wounded, thrusts shallowing as he furrows his brows momentarily, hands gripping desperately at your naked frame.

gator’s hips stutter, blunt fingernails digging into the fat of your thighs as he cums with a broken grunt. you watch in awe as his eyes roll into the back of his head, plump lips parting in a whiny moan as he rides out the last of his release.

you’d found what makes him tick. maybe before he even realised it himself, causing the unexpected reaction.

the next time, he’s prepared for what’s about to come out of your mouth, the way daddy rolls off of your tongue as he fucks you from behind, has you bent onto your elbows with your ass high in the air, face smushed into the pillow.

“that’s it, say it again,” gator groans, large, veiny hand slapping down on the meat of your ass as his hips punch forward, harder, faster, “what am i, hon? huh?”

“daddy, daddy, daddy,” you’re babbling, arching your back and keening into each rough thrust, desperate for more even as he splits you open, open, open.

gator runs his hand up the back of your skull, fingers splaying in your hair, gripping it tight to snap your head back, hard enough your neck pops with it. you’re letting out the filthiest, most disgusting noises, pleading at him with big, wet eyes.

“that’s right,” the grin is vicious, smug and satisfied, laced with sex and desire and the fiery passion in his eyes makes you fucking melt, “i’m your fuckin’ daddy.”

[justmeinadaze]

Yin & Yang (Steddie X You)

A/N: This post got me feeling some kind of way🫠 .

Warnings: Older Daddy Eddie (Late 30s)/ Older Dom Mr. Harrington (Late 30s) & Younger Fem Sub Y/N (mid 20s)

SMUT, LOTS of dirty talk, male masturbation, fingering, talks of sharing (duh), slight innocence kink (if you squint; she's new to the dynamic), ANGST, reader deals with a rude customer and Eddie saves the day. A fight between Eddie and Y/N are mentioned.

Word Count: 4838

Donate to my Ko-Fi <3

Everyone always said Edward Munson was a rude, pretentious asshole. News outlets, websites, social media; everyone who met him briefly or not at all expressed a particular distain for him that you always found amusing when the topic came up. 

Visually, he did seem a bit aloof whenever the businessman did any kind of interview or was asked any kind of question. It was always a bit odd seeing a music producer get so much attention especially one who focused on the heavy metal scene but everyone who hated him also tended to agree that he was a genius at the craft. 

The bands he signed and prompted always hit high numbers on their respective charts making him and them a ton of extra money in the process. 

Anything you read or heard you skimmed past mostly because that wasn’t exactly your scene nor did you know anything when it came to what goes on the background of the music industry. Working at a coffee shop wasn’t extravagant or lucrative but it got you through till you could figure what actually was your scene and go from there. 

That’s how you met him. 

On a particularly rough shift, a man was screaming at you about an order that you supposedly got wrong as you tried to control the tears from spilling down your face. 

“How stupid are you?! It’s coffee not a fucking math equation. You just put the right liquid in the right cup and fucking hand it to me! It’s not that hard! Fucking moron.”

“Excuse me.” The man turned just as the handsome gentleman who addressed him hung up his phone and shoved it into his coat pocket. “I understand you’re a bit stressed but I’m going to have to ask you to stop harassing the young lady. It’s not her fault and she’s doing her best.”

“Pfft. Fuck off, douchebag. This doesn’t concern you.”

“It actually does because you couldn’t handle this situation in a quiet calm manner. You’re ruining everyone’s morning including mine. Now…either take the coffee she’s giving you or wait for her to make a new one patiently.”

The man’s fist flew but the gentleman moved out of the way, grabbing his wrist, and twisting it as he forced the man to kneel before him. 

“Ok. If this is the way you want to do this, that’s fine. Sweetheart…” When he addressed you, you immediately stood at attention ready to die for this man if he asked after what he had just done. “Can you hand me that cup there? Thank you.”, he praises, flashing you a small smile that makes you giddy. “Now, apologize to the young lady.”

“Ow, I’m sorry!”, the man cringes when his wrist is twisted a bit more. 

“Good. Take this coffee and get the fuck out of my sight. If I see you here again I won’t be so nice.”

Disregarding the Styrofoam in the gentleman’s hand, the rude customer quickly gets to his feet before running out of the store. Sighing, your hero places the coffee in front of you.

“Thank you…for defending me… He was being such an asshole.”

“Yeah, he was. It’s not your fault he didn’t order the correct thing. I can be an asshole myself but I know when and where to use it.” When you giggled, his beautiful eyes scan you over as if trying to get a read on you with the little information in front of him. 

“Are you, um, are you Edward?”, you ask as you slide him the coffee with the name scrawled across. 

Again, he glances you over and later on you would learn he was looking for recognition. Everyone he interacted with knew his name and who he was. You were the first person in years who seemed to regard him as just another stranger which fascinated him.

“I am but you can call me Eddie. That’s what my friends call me.”

“Oh. Um, we’re friends?”

“For now, but I’d like to be more whenever you’re open to it.”

Another smile stretched across his face when he noticed your own turn bright red as you blushed. 

“You don’t even know my name.”

Coyly, he leans his elbows on to your counter as his eyes stare at your chest. At first you feel self-conscious before you realize he’s looking at your name tag and you let out a tiny laugh to break the tension.

“I’m sorry, I just—”

“Do I make you nervous?” 

“A little.”

“Honest. I like that. How about this. I can pick you up after your shift today and we can start with dinner and go from there.”

“I don’t have any clothes to change into.”

“That’s ok. I think you look perfect as is and I promise when I come get you I won’t be dressed as formal.”

“O-Ok, Eddie.”

“Good. Good girl. I’ll see you tonight.”

That evening, he showed up right as the shop was about to close and when you told him it would be a few more minutes, he nodded as he patiently waited by the front door. You occasionally snuck glances at him as he browsed his phone. True to his word, he wore jeans and sneakers with a nice white button up shirt that he had rolled up to his elbows. With how he looked this morning, you imagined for him this was dressed pretty down. While his hair was slicked back when you last saw him, now his waves seemed to have a mind of their own making him seem less intimidating and quite adorable. 

Eddie asked you so many different questions about yourself, silently listening as you both ate at the restaurant he took you to. You learned fairly quickly, while he seemed like a man of few words, his body language spoke loudly. His chocolate eyes never left yours as he hung on each and every word you spoke. When you said something he found even remotely funny, his lips would flicker into a slight smirk before returning to their proper alignment. When your drink ran low, his finger would raise and a waiter would promptly run your way with a refill and as the night progressed you found his leg leaning against yours with a little sigh escaping his chest when you didn’t shy away. 

“I feel kind of selfish. I’ve been talking about myself a lot but I feel like I don’t know anything about you.”

“Honestly, sweetheart, it’s a nice reprieve. Everyone I run into knows me and my perceived reputation so to finally meet someone who doesn’t know me is a breath of fresh air.”

“Reputation…”, you repeated the word apprehensively. 

“Um, I’m kind of known as being a jerk.”

“You don’t seem like that to me.”

Eddie smiled so wide this time that his teeth came into view and you knew at that moment you’d do whatever it took to see him smile like that as much as possible. 

“Thank you for that. I can be when I need to be. In my line of work people tend to take advantage pretty early on and I wanted this industry to know I’m not someone to fuck with.”

“Do you make movies or?”

“Music. I’m a music producer for some heavy metal bands.”

“Oh wow! That’s so amazing. I would love to know more! Did you use to play?”

When he finally began to open up, hours passed like minutes and you were so entranced that you didn’t even realize the restaurant was getting ready to close. 

Eddie told you at one point he was in a band but hated the way they were cast aside for being “to generic” and “stuck in the past” so he took matters into his own hands. He bought a building and turned it into a label where he could help produce his friend’s music. He learned everything he could about production and managing, getting everything together, and essentially put Corroded Coffin on the map. 

He found that he actually loved working behind the scenes and stuck with it from that point forward. Now he’s a well-respected name in his field earning triple what he would have made as a guitarist. 

“What’s the name of the label you first opened?”

“Franklin Production; my mother’s maiden name. It seemed right because her money bought the building and she always loved music. She died when I was young.”

When his head hung, your heart broke. 

“Oh my God, Eddie. I’m so sorry.”

His mood changed in the blink of an eye as he breathily chuckled and glanced at his watch. 

“Shit, Y/N, it’s almost 1am. You have to be exhausted after your long shift today. Let me pay for our meal here and then I can take you home.”

“We’ve ordered so much food and drinks. Please let me help pay.” He paused at your comment then as his eyes met your now confused ones. “What?”

“I’ve only met one person who ever offered something like you just did and that man is my best friend.”

“I mean…it’s rude…isn’t it? It’s not fair for me to expect you to pay for everything.”

“Fuck me, baby.” Your eyelids visibly flutter at the term of endearment; coming out of his mouth with a sultry husk that made you swoon. “You’re really something special. I appreciate the offer but when you’re with me, honey, I can take care of you. It’s my pleasure quite honestly.”

You watched him pay the waiter and leave him way more than 15% before Eddie grabs your hand, leading you back to his car. 

That night he dropped you off at your apartment continuing to be the perfect gentleman as he walked you to your door and kept his hands behind his back as you slowly turned your key. Before you entered, however, you paused and hastily turned to plant a small kiss on his lips. Without waiting for a retort, you want inside and shut your door with a little giggle, watching through the peephole to see what he’d do. 

Eddie’s fingers softly brushed against his mouth as he grinned the way you enjoyed at the restaurant. 

***

You had been together now for a few months and you loved him with every fiber of your being. Eddie was extremely protective over you insisting you quit your job and move in with him. 

“Sweetheart, I don’t want you being somewhere where some fucker can belittle you and make you feel like trash. I can take care of you till you find a new job that makes you happy and people treat you with the respect you deserve.”

“Eddie, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking; I’m offering.”, he cooed as his hands cupped your cheeks. “You know how much Daddy loves looking after his pretty girl.”

The first time he called himself Daddy, you blushed and hid behind your hands making him smile as he chuckled low in his throat. 

“Have you ever called a man Daddy before?” When you giggle and curl tighter into your body, he climbed into the bed beside you and pulled you to his side. “It’s ok, sweetheart. Nothing to be embarrassed about with me. Can I show you something?”

Eddie grins when you drop your palms and show him your beautiful face. 

“Good girl.”, he praises as he takes ahold of your hand and kisses the back of it. With his eyes locked on yours, he gradually places it on the bulge in his slacks. “You feel that? Do you feel how hard I am just from being around you as is? You don’t have to do or say anything you don’t want to, princess. I’ll still be here and I’ll still want to fuck you till you can barely move.”

A smile twitched on his lips when your breathing stuttered. 

“I-I-I’ve never called anyone Daddy before or done anything that’s not…”

“Vanilla?”, he helped when your sentence stalled. “Vanilla’s ok to. Definitely a delicious flavor that can’t be disregarded. Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course.”

Eddie leans in till his mouth is just hovering over the shell of your ear. 

“The fact that you’re so nervous and innocent to all this really fucking turns me on.”

When his cock strains a bit more against the fabric and pushes back against your hand, you can’t help but release a little whine as you push your thighs together. 

“What’s wrong, baby? Got a bit of an ache between your legs?”

“Yes.”, you breath out heavily as his palm ghosts up your thigh and his lips tenderly peck along your neck. 

“I can help with that if you want.”

“Y-Yes, Daddy, please.”

Now, you were more than comfortable especially since he was always so patient with you when it came to almost everything. Unlike your past relationships, you were genuinely surprised at how little the two of you fought if at all. Eddie was a force in his business but when you two were together he was always as accommodating as possible. The one time you ever saw his anger directed towards you was when you forgot your phone when you went on a girl’s night out with your friends. 

When you came home at 2 in the morning, he was waiting in the living room and pacing with a glass of whiskey in his hand. 

“It’s 2 in the morning, Y/N! I’ve been worried sick! You forgot your phone. What if something happened to you and you couldn’t reach me!?”

“Eddie, it’s ok! I just forgot it. I promise I’ll do better next time—”

“That’s not the point! What if there hadn’t been a next time!? I’m responsible for you!”

“I don’t know what you want me to say!! I’m sorry!!”

“You watch that fucking tone with me, little girl!”

“Oh yeah. Or what?!”

When the glass in his hand shattered into the wall behind you everything became abruptly silent. Tears stung your eyes as you grabbed the little trashcan nearby and scooted towards the mess, sinking to your knees as you collect the pieces. 

“Y/N, baby. No. No, no. Let me clean this, please.”, Eddie begged, his tone much softer than before as he kneeled beside you. 

When he tried to take the sharp items from your grasp, you angrily pulled away from him. 

“I didn’t mean to forget my phone. It was an honest mistake and you had no right screaming at me like you just did!”

“I know. You’re right, sweetheart. You are absolutely right. I just… fuck… I’m so sorry, Y/N. I love you so much and the idea of something happening to you or you getting hurt just terrifies me. I shouldn’t have reacted this way.”

Blinking up at him, your hand reaches for his own. 

“You love me?”

“Yeah, Y/N, of course. Since I met you behind that coffee counter.”

After tackling him excitedly, you beamed as you kissed his lips. 

“I love you to.”

People on the outside didn’t seem to understand why you were with him but they didn’t know him the way you did. Eddie was sweet, funny, and incredibly kind despite his hardened outer exterior. According to the man himself, the only other person who understood him the same way you did was a man you had yet to meet. 

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

Steven Harrington was a name you knew solely due to his reputation in media. 

He was always portrayed as just another trust fund baby who was utilizing daddy’s money to do whatever he wanted. He got in trouble constantly but brushed it off with a sexy smile and a calm demeanor that made even the biggest skeptic want to trust him.

The first time Eddie mentioned him by name was after you noticed him watching one of Steve’s interviews. 

“Fucking idiot.”, he chuckled light-heartedly, turning the screen of his phone so you could watch to when you climbed into bed beside him. “This is the guy I was telling you about. Steve Harrington has been my best friend for years.”

“This is your best friend?”

When he nods, you focus on the interview in front of you.

“No, no. Trust me, that company would be crazy to sell right now in this economy. Once things bounce back it will be worth way more than it is now. Then again…if they sell I could buy it and turn it into a hotel or some s***. Go ahead than! Sell that f***er!”, he laughs making you giggle as well when his nose scrunches adorably. 

“Steve is actually a very clever business guy. People constantly underestimate him because he acts like a playboy.”

“So…he’s the yin to your yang?”

Eddie smirks down at you before kissing your forehead. 

“You could say that.”

The more your boyfriend told you about him the more you wanted to meet him. Eddie seemed to genuinely care about this person and as his girlfriend you wanted him to get to know him as well. The first time you spoke to him was after you moved in with Ed and he called to congratulate you both. 

“Hey! Are you Y/N?”

“I am.”, you grin. 

“Oh good. I don’t know what I would have done if you said no. ‘EDDIE! Some random pretty girl is in your place!’”, Steve laughed. 

“Pft. How do you know I’m pretty?”

“Because a sexy voice like yours must be inside a beautiful woman. I’m kind of jealous.”

He said it so smoothly that if you weren’t already sitting you’re sure his words would have knocked you off your feet. Your eyes glanced towards Eddie who was watching you from his spot on the couch. 

“Uh oh. Did I lose you, honey? Sorry. Sometimes I come on a bit too strong.”

“No, no. It’s ok. You just… you remind me of him.”, you exhale as you get up and walk towards your boyfriend. 

“Of who? Of Eddie? I take that as a compliment. He’s a good man.”

“Yeah he is but that’s not exactly what I meant.”

“Oh? Well then use your words, pretty girl. Who do I remind you of? I’m DYING to know.”

Eddie softly smirks as he watches your breathing stagger the same way it does when you’re intimidated by something. His ring covered fingers gently trace down your arm making you shiver. 

“Tell me.”

The two words that followed came out as a strong command that told you to obey. The contradiction of how he spoke now to how he had before made you dizzy and you desperately wanted more. 

“Daddy.”

After tossing the phone next to Eddie, you covered your face with your palms and ran up the stairs. A few moments later, the man you loved climbed into bed beside you and collected you into his arms. 

“Talk to me, baby. Remember, no matter what there’s nothing to be embaressed about, ok?” He smiled when he felt you nod against his chest. “I know Steve can be a bit much at first but he’s a good person who’s been through a lot of bullshit.”

As you sniffle, you tilt back so you could see his face. 

“I feel bad.”

“About what, sweetheart?”

“I liked the way he spoke to me. It turned me on the same way you do.”

“Ok…why does that make you feel bad?”

You shrug. “I love you.”

That makes him genuinely smile. 

“I love you to, Y/N, so much. That’s why I trust you, babe. I, um, I have a confession to make.” When you sit up to give him your full attention, he does the same. “I’ve known Steve for a long time and I trust that man with my life. I’ve told him things I’ve never told anyone and he’s done the same. You said, sweetheart, he’s the yin to my yang and you’re right. Fuck… how do I say this…”

“You want to share me?”

The innocent way you asked your question drove him insane but he pushed down the need to fuck you for the time being. 

“Kind of, yes. I…I wanted to see how you two got along and if it worked out, maybe, we could fly to go meet him and… you’d still be mine but he’d—”

“Use me.”

“Fuck, baby, you have to stop saying things like that the way you are.”, Eddie panted excitedly as he adjusted the growing bulge in his pants. 

“May I ask why? Why you would want to share me like that?”

“Of course, Y/N, you can always ask me anything. You hold the power here especially when it comes to this. I just… he’s my best friend and I want him to be happy to. In these past few months, you’ve changed my world and I just want to give him some of that. I, um, I also think…”

“Tell me, Daddy. Please.”, you beg in your tiny voice that has his eyes closing as he tries to control himself. 

“Fuck… I think it would be incredibly hot to watch you fuck him.”

You had told him you were open but apprehensive because it was all new territory for you. Both men came up with an idea to help you get acclimated to the idea. 

“Hey all. Wow, Jesus Christ Munson, you undersold your girlfriend’s beauty. Hot damn.”

You giggled as Eddie rolled his eyes at his friend who was laughing himself from his side of the computer screen. It looked like Steve had the device he was using for this facetime visit resting on his lower stomach as he leaned against the headboard of his bed looking incredibly sexy with his ruffled hair and tank top just barely covering the chest hair that littered his skin. 

Eddie had you sitting in between his own legs as he rested his head against your shoulder and his arms hugged you to him. 

“I hope I’m not making you uncomfortable. If I do at any point please just let me know and I’ll respect your boundaries.”

“You don’t make me uncomfortable but, uh, you kind of intimidate me a bit…more than Eddie did.”

“Is it because I start at 10 and go from there? Yeah, casualties of growing up in chaotic household and then starting a business where your biggest competitor is your father.”

“What DO you do? Ed said you’re an investor?”

“Kind of.  I invested in a friend’s tech company many years ago and that paid off in a big way. They make medical supplies that are high quality for a cheaper price. I’m trying to expand so we can invest in more—Pfft! Listen to me talking about all that bullshit. Let’s talk about something else.”

“No, hey! That’s amazing that you do that. My father needed supplies like that but it was so hard for him to afford stuff. You’ve probably helped so many people. What supplies has your company helped make?”

Steve blinked, sitting up straighter.

“Huh.”

“I told you.”, Eddie sings as he places a delicate kiss along your skin. 

“D-Did I do something wrong? Am I not allowed to ask him questions?”, you asked genuinely worried you crossed a line. 

“Most people, let alone women, don’t care enough to ask us things like you just did.”

“Maybe you two are spending time around the wrong people.”

“Maybe… Damn, Eddie. She’s perfect. Where did you find her because obviously I’ve been looking in the wrong places.”

“Hm. I found her in a coffee shop being yelled at by some asshole. Fucker.”, he growled before you tilted back and kissed his cheek. “It’s not just her personality either. Her body fucking drives me crazy. Even just watching her walk from the bed to the bathroom makes me so fucking hard.”

“Yeah? Your Daddy says you have sexy body. Can you show it to me?”

“Only if you’re comfortable, princess.”, Eddie whispers in your ear.

“Can you help me, Daddy?”

Nodding, he removes each item of your clothing till you were naked for the man on the screen in front of you. 

“Fuck me. I’m not just saying this, Y/N, but you’re so gorgeous.”

“Thank you.”, you groan as you lick your lips. “May I see you?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”, he smirks. 

Your whole body tingled as you watched him undress until you sucked in a sharp intake of air when his cock sprang free from his cotton confinement. 

“He’s so big.”, you murmur against Eddie’s cheek as his eyes remain downcast to focus on you. “How will it fit?”

“We’ll make fit, pretty girl. Steve and I can take care of you.”

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah. Little one is worried about your splitting her in half. “

“Don’t worry, honey, I’m a gentleman to. I’m not going to just shove my dick inside of you. Even if it takes hours, we can eat and finger your little pussy till she’s ready.”

“Fuck, Daddy, please.”

Aggressively, Eddie opens your legs wide putting you on display and making Steve groan. 

“Wet already and no one’s even touched you yet.”, he responded mockingly before leaning over his cock to spit on his tip and stroke himself. “How tight is she, Munson?”

You moaned loudly as Eddie inserted two of his thick fingers into your cunt and your head leaned back against him.

“So fucking tight, Harrington, and greedy. Her pussy just sucks me in and chokes my dick when she cums. Add in her sexy little noises and the way her face scrunches…” 

“Open your eyes, Y/N.” Steve smiles when you do what he asks. “Good girl. She listens to. Fuck, baby, don’t take those eyes off me. God, I’m—mmm—I’m dying to feel those pretty lips around my cock.”

“You’re really good at sucking cock, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Y-Yes, Daddy. I’m…M’close.”

“I know, pretty girl. I can feel it. Why don’t you tell Stevie how bad you want his cum.”

You mewl as Eddie moves at a faster pace with the sound of your slick echoing around the room. 

“Please, Mr. Harrington, Sir. I-I-I want your cum so much. I want to feel you—ahhhh—feel your cock in my mouth till you spill down my throat.”

“Jesus Christ.”, he grunted and you both watched as his release hit his thigh. 

“You did so good, sweetheart. Cum for Daddy now, baby.”, Eddie praised as your back pushed against his chest and you panted as you came. “That’s my girl. Good girl. Ride it out on my fingers till you come back to me. That’s it.”

“Fucking hell. That was amazing, honey.” Steve watch with fascination as you turned your body and wrapped an arm around Eddie’s chest as you curled into his warm chest. “Everything ok?”

“She’s fine. It’s something baby girl does when she cums hard like that. She’ll squeeze me like a fucking Teddy bear and fall asleep. Sometimes it’s for a few minutes or a few hours. At first I thought it was the headspace but I don’t know. Either way I love it.”

“Yeah, man. If she had a good time and is open to it I have that party coming up in a month. You two can fly down and we can hang out. Of course, nothing has to happen. I can always just show you guys around and get to know her more.”

“I’ll let you know when she wakes up and we talk about it.”

“No problem. No problem. Hey, maybe at most, you and I can fuck around.”, Steve replies as he coyly raises his eyebrows making his friend laugh.

“Ok, calm down over there.”

“Oh, come on. Not like it would be the first time—”

“Good night, asshole.”, Eddie teases as he cuts him off and closes the laptop.

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

“Are you alright, sweetheart?”, Eddie asks as he watches you fidget with your hands as you stare at your reflection in the metal of the elevator. 

“Yeah. I’m just a little nervous. This is your best friend and I know how much he means to you. I don’t want to…I don’t know…fuck anything up.”

“Fuck, I still think it’s hot when you get all jittery like this.”, he chuckles as he takes your palm in his. “You have absolutely nothing to worry about. I love you so I know for a fact he will. Just keep being your unique self, baby, and no matter what I’ll be here if you need anything.”

When he flashes you that big toothy grin, you can’t help but smile back as you lean up on your toes to kiss his lips. The doors abruptly swing open and your boyfriend’s demeanor instantly hardens at the sound of loud party guests in the room you both step into. 

Your eyes swing around the area with no sign of the host himself. 

Tugging on Eddie’s bicep, you lead him to the drink station where you desperately chug down some liquid courage as you pray that tonight goes as smoothly as possible.

[harringtons-cupid]

inspo?

the one snd only mr steve harrington charming the pants off your parents at dinner only to take you home and treat you right

Steve Harrington x Fem!reader

Warnings: 18+

SMUT!! - cunnilingus, tongue fucking, clit spanking. Cum eating, dirty talk. Cum denial. Spolit orgasm, creampie. Scratching. Lip biting, hair pulling. Slight punishment.

Fluff- Meeting parents, carrying you. Kissing. Affectionate name-calling.

Steve had briefly met your parents before, it was awkward and sudden. He was dressing quickly on the landing of your house when they arrived home too soon.

This was different, it was planned and sophisticated. He was dressed smartly in a black denim jacket, smart trousers and tidy hair.

You thought he looked delicious when you answered the door, he kissed you lightly. Not wanting to ruin your freshly applied makeup.

He was polite and shy. Steve Harrington was never shy, he was cheeky and loud but as your parents greeted him in the living room. He went silent, nodding to your dad who was sat in his favourite armchair.

The football was on, he never turned it off. Not even to meet your boyfriend, he glanced at Steve who stood awkwardly in the room.

Your mum called you into the kitchen, she looked pretty with her apron fastened tightly behind her back as she dashed around the room to organise the food.

''He's a cutie. Is this the same boy we met on the landing that one time?'' she teased as the oven sprung open with hot air.

''Mum! Please'' you blushed, peering into the living room hoping that Steve didn't hear her comment.

Your mum shrugged and proceeded to dish out the food onto four individual plates, the food smelt incredible. Your mum could never disappoint with her cooking but you are anxious for Steve to try it.

He sat down next to you, his arm hung slightly off the table as he politely smiled back and forth at your parents.

Your dad had yet to speak, and your hands curled around the edge of the seat. He must have known that you had a boyfriend, it's not like you were new to this. But it being Steve Harrington was a different story.

The dinner progressed slowly, Steve ummed and arred after every mouthful. The cocky and confident Steve you knew was hiding between meat and vegetables. It was amusing to watch.

''So Stephen'' your dad's voice was loud and clear.

''Dad, it's Steve'' you smiled awkwardly at him. Moving closer to Steve.

''Sorry, Steve. I heard that you are applying for college. What do plan on studying there?'' he stared directly at Steve.

College what was you and Steve spoke about most, it was the impending future of you both. You didn't want to lose him, you loved him. He was everything to you but the question was always at the back of your mind. Where was he going and where would he study.

''Me and your daughter planned to study at the same college but I was offered a sports scholarship'' Steve grinned, taking your hand.

''A scholarship, that is incredible.'' your father grinned.

Like Steve, your father was also a sporting man. Progressed into a big shot star of Hawkins in the 60s before settling down to have yourself and brother.

After the shaky start to the dinner, it moved nicely and your parents began to lather him with appreciation and love. Your father constantly asking about Steve's future plans and your mum asking about his family and what food he enjoys. Clearly wanting more than one dinner with him.

They formally said goodbye to Steve in the doorway, your father firmly shaking his hand and your mum hugging the pair of you softly kissing your cheeks. Waving at the door as you proceeded to 'drive' Steve home.

It was silent when you pulled away from the drive, anxiously waiting on Steve's approval and opinions.

His hand was on your knee moving further and further up your leg until it sat on the edge of your pink lace panties.

You didn't realise how much you were dying to be touched by him, biting your lip as he drove one handed.

There was something so attractive about him right now, his hair was combed into a soft style. His shirt was unbuttoned slightly to expose his chest hair, you stifled a moan.

Both you and Steve spent more time at his empty house than at your own, with more freedom to be each other. You only felt it was right, now Steve had met your parents. Your mind was racing with the idea of staying at yours rather than his.

He pulled up onto his driveway, switching the car off and turning to you. His finger was slipping underneath your panties, pulling you closer to him.

Leaning forward, he began to kiss you and his hand reached your clit. It was throbbing at his touch, he groaned onto your lips.

Biting your lip hard in lust, your hands were tugging on his hair.

''God baby, you are so hot'' he kissed you hard, pushing his body against yours.

You could feel his cock growing harder and harder against his jeans, his pants were getting raspier by the second.

Suddenly removing yourself off him, you saw the wild glint in his eye as he studied you.

You opened the door and stood outside, waiting for him to join you. In his stunned state, he hurried to your side. Desperate to be near you, to touch you.

There was an intense greed in him, it was if meeting your parents made him lust after you even more.

Maybe he did love you back?

He bent down and took ahold of your body between his arms, tightly grabbing you under your knees and neck. You laughed hard as he carried you over the threshold, you wobblily unlocked the front door.

Placing you down on the floor, there were a few seconds before you pinned up against the wall and your mouths were pressed together. His hand was circling your clit, panting heavily against him as he edged you closer and closer to your orgasm.

You were so weak for him, any touch would cause you to cum. It made you blush but he loved it.

His hand moved from swirling to spanking your clit which turned you on even more. Dripping down your legs as he kept going until your body jerked in pleasure.

You came hard against his hand, cheeks flushed red. He dropped to his knees, ripping your panties to your ankles. He sighed dreamily as he dived between your legs, licking every inch of your cum up.

Making your legs shake even more, your clit was senstive as he continued to lick you. Sliding his tongue inside of your opening, you gasped heavily. Your head hitting the wall as you gripped onto him for support.

He continued to fuck you like this until you trembled with sensation,

''Stevie--'' you whined, tugging strands of his hair.

You needed his cock inside you, the closest you could ever get to him. But he kept his position just a little longer until your whines became more and more pathetic.

He removed himself from your soaking wet pussy, with a smirk. He brought his lips to yours, forcing you to taste yourself on him.

Kissing you until you couldn't hold it any longer, pulling at his belt in eagerness.

''I love you like this, so desperate for my cock inside you'' he grinned as he let you undo his jeans.

Pushing them in a despairing attempt until they were pooling at his ankles, you didn't care where he took you. You just needed him.

His thumb began to rub your clit as he slowly slid inside you, teasing you even more. Your hips grinding against his half shaft, whimpering loudly.

He groaned when his cock slid all the way inside you, your nails digging intoo his back. He held you up, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist. As deeper as he could inside you.

Thrusting you against the wall, you didn't care. You couldn't feel the pain of the wall, all you could feel was his cock.

His lips fumbled against yours, moving you away from the wall slightly. Giving you just enough room to bounce on his cock, your moans were louder. You worried slightly if you were deafening him, he showed no signs.

Both of you gripped onto each other as if for dear life, his pounding into you harder and harder. Making you quiver, you felt close to your second orgasm.

''Stevie--Please can I cum?'' you whined patheically.

You never asked to cum before, but today you wanted to ask for his permission.

He loved that, he thrusted once more before answering you. Which he knew was edging you closer and closer.

''Not yet baby, just hold on a little longer'' he panted, with a smirk on his face.

Burying his face into your neck, his cock was throbbing inside of you. It was making you wetter and wetter, you needed to cum so badly.

Not sure how long you could last, you nodded.

He kept his speed and pressure until cried loudly, you couldn't hold it.

Cumming hard all over his cock, you felt a sensation you had never felt before. As if a ton of liquid had escaped you, it splashed as he thrust inside you.

Your body pusalting as you continued to cum, panting hard agaist his body.

''Such a naughty baby'' he groaned into your ear.

''I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. Your cock feels so so good'' you whined.

Overcoming the high of your orgasm, you allowed him to continue as your clit twitched.

''Just for that, your punishment is to take all my cum into your wet pussy'' he whimpered at his own words.

Unable to say another word, you scratched his back as you felt him edge closer to his own orgasm.

He rarely came inside you, it was hot and punsihing enough. Finding enough courage, you decided to tease himfurther.

''You going to pound your cum into me? Make me so full'' you panted as your hands slid down his back.

He didn't reply, you could tell that your words were making him weaker by the second.

''Please, I need your cum in me. For the first time'' you moaned, stumbling on a few words.

As you opened your mouth to say a few more taunts, his cock twitched inside you.

Spurling out hot cum inside you, he didn't stop thrusting even though his body twitched. Determined to fuck it into you, he continued until he couldn't more anymore.

He stayed inside for a second, wiping the hair out of your face and kissing you.

''My beautiful girl'' he sighed, catching his breath.

You both slide down the wall, his limp cock slipping out of you. As you sat there naked on the floor, he took you into his arms and held you.

[radiosteve]

I Knew You

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

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

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

Pairings: Steve Harrington x reader

Word count: 30.5k (I got carried away)

I knew I’d curse you for the longest time

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But I knew you’d linger like a tattoo kiss

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Drunk under a street light

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I knew you’d haunt all of my what-ifs

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A friend to all is a friend to none 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chasing shadows in the grocery line

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please.”

And you’d come back to me

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You put me on and said I was your favorite

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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