#nancy wheeler fluff one shot

[gravedigginbbydoll]

Slumber Party Kissin'

Modern! Nancy x Fem! Reader Smut

Midwest Princess Series

AN: Heyo! So each one of these will be a one-shot based off of a Chappell Roan song and added to a Masterlist later! Please forgive me as this is my first ever time writing with Nancy!

CW: MDNI!!! mature, internalized questioning, unrequited? crush, first queer experiences, mentions of past relationships (Steve and Jonathan), use of nickname Angel, fem! reader (v) x Nancy, 69ing, oral (v), fingering, making out, boob play, etc

Even miles away in Manhattan, Nancy Wheeler had a hold on you. 

You two grew up together, photos of the two of you, arms around each other, missing teeth. You whispered secrets to one another, sharing dolls. Nancy was your world. Until you complicated it. 

You two shared everything. Right down to first kisses. You thought it was normal to giggle with a friend and kiss, ignoring the weird feeling of her braces behind soft lips. To play with and style her vanilla and coconut hair, the curls soft in your fingers. You whispered to one another how much you disliked boys, Nancy crying over how they stuck gum in her hair. 

Hell, you even played Boyfriend and Girlfriend. 

You only began to notice Nancy’s apprehension when you both befriended Barb. 

Barb wasn’t grossed out by your bond anything, just seemed to joke about how people may perceive you as more. 

Nancy stopped holding your hand. She stopped giving you soft kisses on the cheek. 

You two stayed friends but drifted apart slowly, busy with your own lives. 

Flash forward a few years and Nancy was in college and freshly broken up with her boyfriend and you were in the big city, free spirited. You were learning things, like how you loved the hustle and bustle but missed Hawkins small town charm. She had called your cell phone, voice warm and sweet as ever. Your heart clenched. 

“Hey…I know we haven’t hung out in a while, but I’m in New York for an interview with the New York Post…” 

“Nance, that’s awesome!,” You exclaimed, heart and mind begging her to come see you, your stomach twisting.

“Um, yeah…So I-”

“Did you need a place to crash, because- Sorry! My connection is so shitty, I-,” You started, heart racing.

“No, yeah! I would appreciate that! Yeah…you’re the best,” Nancy stated, a smile clear in her voice. 

“Of course! Like old times, huh? We can make it like a sleepover!,” You grinned, heart threatening to escape its cage. 

“Oh yeah! I’d love that! Thanks, angel,” Nancy said softly, before saying her goodbyes as your heart threatened to stop. You hadn’t heard that nickname in a while. 

If you knew one thing, it was this: You had…feelings…for Nancy. 

You loved her coconut and vanilla shampoo, the way she rolled her eyes when you said something ridiculous, her studious nature, and her blinding smile. She was smart, strong, and maybe a little too stubborn. 

You’d suspected it, of course. For years. But you’d never been with a girl. Only a handful of boys had piqued your interest, and most of them… were less than stellar. 

Nancy was a constant in your mind, more reassured than cicadas in the summertime. 

You immediately sat up in your tiny studio apartment (all you could afford), and rushed out the door. 

This had to be the best reunion ever. 

When you finished, your apartment was decked out in pink string lights, snacks littering your  kitchen counter, along with DVDs stacked up on your coffee table, and all the activities you knew Nancy would love. Face masks, friendship bracelet making, and your switch to play MarioKart (She always beat you). 

You stared at the whole set up, proud of the progress, when a knock startled you. You answered the door, eyes wide at Nancy on the other side. She was still petite as ever, but her heels made her a little taller. Her familiar curls were shorter now, her makeup simple but…flawless. She smiled softly at you, blue eyes making your heart stop. 

“Hey, Angel,” She said, reaching out for a hug. 

You met her hug, melting into her arms and your face buried in her hair. There was that familiar scent, making your heart skip a beat. You pulled away after a bit, trying to will yourself to calm your heart, your face warm. 

“Hey, Nance. Come on in, get comfy,” You ushered her in as she looked around, smiling. 

“Wow, this is so cute! You didn’t have to go through all this for me,” She said, eyebrows pinched in a way that made you want to hold her hand. You refrained. 

“Nonsense! It was fun, honestly,” You shrugged, smiling. You tried to will your eyes away from her lips, her lip gloss capturing the peachy color perfectly. 

Shit. 

You smiled and clapped your hands, turning around, desperately trying to ignore the stampede of elephants currently running laps in your stomach. 

“Well…what movie do you wanna start off with? Mean Girls?” 

 Nancy and you were huddled under a blanket, currently suffering a sugar high and giggling over Regina getting hit by a bus. A bowl of popcorn rested between the two of you as you chatted, you seemingly playing off the desire to kiss the brunette next to you. 

Nancy dug into the bowl, smiling. 

“Ya know…Regina George is one of my women crushes,” She joked, eyes twinkling with humor. 

You gasped, laughing, “Me too! Me too!,” You couldn’t stop the giggles coming out of your mouth. 

“But honestly I’m kind of surprised…All American Sweetheart Nancy Wheeler, Investigative Journalist, Future Nobel Prize Winner…crush on Regina? I thought you’d say like, Cady or Janice…Maybe Karen. I can see you liking a bimbo,” You teased, dodging the popcorn Nancy threw at you in horror, pretty lips in an O. 

“Hey! Look, I don’t support the way Regina acts…She’s just really gorgeous. And fashionable. Now for Karen…I prefer Amanda Seyfried in Mamma Mia. She’s super hot there…and sweet,” Nancy smiles, cheeks pink. 

Your heart skips a beat, laughing softly. Nancy wasn’t a prude or anything, just a studious and goal driven person, her wit sometimes scaring you. Hearing her gush over girls when you experienced her own apprehension towards you two toeing the line both confused and made you perk up. 

Would she maybe give you a chance?

But you were too scared to push it. 

You and Nancy eventually wore yourselves out, passing out on the couch. 

You woke up after her, the scent of cinnamon and coffee permeating your kitchen. Nancy, always being an early bird, had woken up early and made breakfast. You rubbed at your eyes sleepily, stretching and yawning, trying to shake off the cobwebs. 

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Nancy piped up, hands holding a mug as she smiled into the mug, eyes sparkling with that same sharpness you adored from her. She was dressed up and makeup simple yet elegant, as per usual. You’d almost forgotten she’d had an interview this morning.

You perked up a bit at her voice, her voice making the stampede of elephants take another lap in your stomach. You seriously needed to get this crush under control. 

“Morning,” You piped up, standing up from your couch, stretching. 

“So I thought maybe we could explore the city? I’d like to know the place if I get to stay here,” She says sheepishly, her cheeks pink. You felt your heart pick up speed as your cheeks burst into flames. 

Nancy. In the city. Around you. 

“Sure! Did the interview this morning go well?,” You questioned in the most casual tone you could muster, coming over and grabbing the mug of coffee she so fondly made for you, her remembrance of how you liked it making your chest feel tight.

“Yeah! I think I really impressed them with my past papers and the one I wrote for the Hawkins Post about the Mayor’s embezzling,” She grinned, her expression glowing. 

“That’s awesome, Nance,” You smiled, walking around the counter to pull her into a side hug, your hands brushing her waist. You pulled away quickly, covering it with a cough. 

“Um, we should celebrate,” You offer, trying to ignore the imagery in your head of Nancy by you, your hands around her waist, your lips on her… 

Get a hold of yourself, dumbass. 

You ignore the growing need in your belly. 

“Yeah! Let’s!,” Nancy smiles, lighting up the entire kitchen. 

You smile and let her know you’re going to take a quick shower and change, heading for your drawers and grabbing clothes before heading off to the bathroom, trying to not think of how she had smelled like your soap, clearly using your shower this morning before heading out. 

Her lean and petite frame naked and…

You were gonna need cold water. 

You and Nancy spent the whole day walking around and exploring, huddled together in jackets, the crisp New York air cutting through the fabric. You showed her Times Square, the Mysterious Bookshop (which of course she poured over, being the mystery lover that she was), Central Park and the Swedish Cottage Marionette Theater (you’d bought tickets in advance like a lovesick loser), and more. You’d ended the night by taking Nancy to a bar, buying her drinks in celebration. 

Which is how you had ended up stumbling into your apartment, giggling, the two of you leaned against one another. 

You were drunk, falling over yourselves as you sat on the couch and Nancy giggled, cheeks red and hair a mess. 

“I can’t beli-lieve I punched that guy,” She slurred, grinning. 

You grinned back just as dopey, giggling. “Yo-you were like my knight in shining armorrr,” You drawled out, hiccuping. You leaned against Nancy as she swayed on the couch a bit before standing up, leaving you to flop over. 

“Where goooo?,” You sing-songed, the buzz in your veins making you flop around like a fish. 

“W-ater…need..to give you,” Nancy mumbled, giggling as she overfilled a glass and it spilled into the sink. “Oops.” 

She stumbled over to you, giving you the water, your mind still fuzzy as she stood and tilted your head up and poured the water in your mouth, the desire growing between your legs. You swallowed, cheeks burning. 

“Y-you look out for me too much,” You slurred, voice soft. 

Nancy flopped next to you, shrugging it off, drinking some of the water. You watched her throat bob up and down as she drank, the wetness beneath your legs pooling as you noticed her jawline and neck, wanting to mark the pale skin with purple and red bruises. 

She set the cup down, turning to face you and eyes so intense you sobered up a little. 

“Rem-ember when we useded to play boyfriend and girlfriend?,” She asked, voice still slurring slightly but softer. 

You nodded, your throat feeling dry. Hell yeah you remembered it. Lips brushing Nancy’s neck, her own lips. Coming much closer to kissing than friends should. Sure, you were young, but you knew the implications. Later on in your early teen years, you two practiced kissing on one another, claiming you didn’t want to be bad at it. It was a giggly and silly sort of kiss, but led to more ‘practice’, you claiming to be nervous. You sort of lied, but Nancy never knew.

“I miss that,” She whispered, eyes staring at the couch as she played with the stray thread that seemed to escape the cushions. You gulped, heart threatening to stop. Your hands shook. You were sobering up quickly, still fuzzy but desire building. 

“Y-yeah…Si-simpler times,” You managed to get out, your words stuck in your throat like honey. You turned to sit criss-cross, facing Nancy, your eyes taking in her long lashes and how she bit her lip. Fuck. You wanted to bite it for her. 

She leaned forward, voice barely above a whisper as she looked down at your lap, hands fidgeting. “I n-never told you…but I think you were a better kisser than Steve or Jonathan.”

You laughed a bit, heat extending from your cheeks to your neck. “No way…I would always smile and giggle.”

Nancy giggled a bit, smiling and scooting closer, eyes still wandering before looking at you, clearly sheepish and still buzzed. “I mean, I’m sure you’ve improved. You’ve grown a lot.” 

You felt your heart stop and your mouth run dry. You swallowed and smiled, trying to tame your flaming skin. “Y-yeah…Definitely more experienced..But nothing’s been crazy,” You joked, waving a hand off, trying to be careful to not cross the line. 

Nancy nodded, letting a beat of silence cross before she piped up again. “H-have you ever…done anything…with…a girl?,” She questioned, brow furrowed, cheeks red. She seemed to fidget a bit, making your eyes glance at her chest, which was raising and falling rapidly, splotchy pink. You looked up. 

“N-no. Bu-but I mean there’s a first time for everything, right?,” You joked, your stomach twisting and turning at Nancy’s sudden interest in your sex life. 

“What about you?,” You asked softly. Nancy shook her head, chewing on her lips again before thoughtfully looking at you, face crossed with an expression you couldn’t read, brows furrowed and eyes guarded. “Wo-would you w-want to?” She bit her lip again, hand touching your calf. 

You swallowed, eyes on her touching you. You whispered, your heart racing and the heavy beat loud in your ears. “I mean…maybe..” 

She leaned forward a bit and seemed to sigh softly, her voice slightly shaking. “C-can we try…pretending…again? Ju-just…for old time’s sake.” 

You felt your brain short circuit as your heart seemed to disappear into the floor, your eyes wide. 

“Ye-yeah…I mean we’re tipsy and-” 

Nancy cut you off with a bruising kiss, her plush lips capturing yours as you felt your breath get taken away, eyes fluttering closed as she grabbed your jaw with one hand. You kept kissing, breaking apart for air before she crashed back into you, your back hitting the couch as she loomed over you, elbows against the couch, a giggle escaping your lips as Nancy smiled against your mouth. 

“Shh, I’m trying to impress you with my kissing skills,” She mumbled against your lips, a smile still on her face. 

You were about to retort before she began kissing you more passionately. She licked your bottom lip, making you gasp and allowing her to slip her tongue into your mouth, you softly moaning beneath her. 

Your hands drifted up to around her waist, never getting enough of her soft skin. You pulled her in closer, the two of you pressed together. Your hands slipped beneath her top, rubbing at her sides and slowly inching her shirt up inch by inch. She finally sat up, straddling you and throwing off her top, her pale pink and lacy bra making you salivate. You reached up slowly as she bit her lip, nodding. Your hands brushed the fabric, your mind swimming with only thoughts of how intimate this was. You squeezed one breast, Nancy moaning softly before reaching around and undoing her bra, letting it fall loose, blush spreading from her cheeks to her chest. She shrugged off the bra, letting it fall to the ground before grabbing your hands, placing them on her bare breast, chewing on her lip as her blue eyes stared at you with want. You kneaded her breasts, playing with her nipples like you often would with yourself, hips bucking up at the erotic scene unfolding above you. Nancy rolled her hips against yours, moaning at the friction. You felt it too, the direct pressure against your aching core. 

Nancy leaned down and continued making out, the two of you moaning against each other's mouths, rolling your hips against one another. Nancy eventually tugged at your shirt, mumbling against your mouth. “Off. Now.”

You moaned against her, tugging your shirt up and over your head as she pulled away, then reaching behind yourself and undoing your bra, shrugging it off quickly as she leaned down and took one of your nipples in your mouth, immediately making you arch your back and whimper beneath her. She didn’t abandon your other nipple either, nimble finger tracing the bud and pinching it softly. 

“You feel so soft,” She whispered around your breast, licking the bud before nipping at it. She rolled her hips against yours as you bucked your hips up, moaning. She sat back up, cupping your breasts before pinching both of the buds and making you cry out, blue eyes staring at your chest. “So pretty…”

You reached up from your spot under her, tugging at her button on her jeans, whimpering beneath her as Nancy squeezed one of your breasts delicately before whispering softly. “Be patient, angel.” 

She undid your button on your own pants, tugging them down your legs before tossing the pants away, staring at you for a minute, biting her lip. You felt heat crawl from your neck up your cheeks, aware of your nakedness as Nancy spread your legs gently, softly coaxing you. She stared at the wet spot near your center before looking at you, smiling softly. 

“Guess I proved myself,” She said softly, making you hide your face in your hands, embarrassed at how easily she made you soak through your underwear. She pulled your hands away gently, tutting. “No, no. I wanna see those pretty eyes…”

She reached out her hand, her pointer finger rubbing your sensitive clit through the fabric, making you writhe beneath her. She hooked a finger into your underwear, eyes eager as she looked at you. 

“Can I take these off?” 

You nodded wordlessly, lifting your hips so she could remove the one barrier keeping you clothed. Nancy tossed the fabric to the side, staring at your cunt like it was a meal, licking her lips. Her gaze stayed at your dripping core, eyes dark with lust. “Ca-can I…I know I haven’t ever… but-” You cut her off by squeezing her hand that was holding your thigh, nodding. Words were escaping you.

She laid down fully, her soft breath so close that it made you shiver. She licked a stripe up your slit cautiously, continuing when she heard your whining. She kitten licked your clit a few times before sucking it into her mouth, shooting waves of pleasure through the bud. Your hands tangled into her soft curls, the usually tidy brunette waves now a mess. She folded your legs up against your chest in a gentle coaxing manner, humming against your cunt as you did so. She began alternating licking broader stripes and focusing on circling your clit with her tongue. She clearly was calculating which movements and flicks of her tongue made you pull at her hair more, being sure to keep the constant pleasure flowing. Eventually she pulled away from licking and sucking at your clit, moving one of her hands off to rub at the sensitive spot with her fingers, pulling whines from your throat, pleasure bubbling up in your stomach. 

“So pretty…so much better than anyone I’ve ever had, angel,” Nancy practically purred, making you buck your hips up into her touch. She stopped for a bit to stare at you, reveling in how your pussy clenched around nothing, 

“Nan...Nancy….,” You whimpered, pleasure numbing your brain, need seeping into your bones. “T-touch me, please…touch me…” 

Nancy chewed on her bottom lip in thought, her breath hitching as you begged for any release. She stood up quickly, unbuttoning her pants and stripping down to nothing, barely giving you a chance to react to her pink lacy panties. She laid down on the couch, making you sit up and look at her confused. She bit her lip and stared at you, eyes making you shiver. “Come sit on my face, angel,” She coaxed you, swallowing down her nerves. You felt your heart speed up, cheeks hotter than hell, nodding. 

You’d known from high school rumors that Steve loved the 69 position, and Nancy was a ‘quick learner’’. Of course this was before Steve grew and matured, becoming the sweet man Nancy befriended and children adored. But this fact intimidated you a bit. What if you sucked at this? You’d never- 

Your thoughts were cut off with a soft slap to your thigh, Nancy’s tone firm and meaning business. “Hey, stop overthinking. Just sit.” She laid back down as you climbed on top, your core hovering over her face before her soft hands gripped your hips and pulled you down onto her mouth, immediately lapping at your dripping center. You laid down, opening her legs and starting simple by circling her clit, your hands clammy with anxiety. She moaned around your clit, driving you to continue before slowly lowering your head to her center, licking a tentative stripe, and moaning. Her mouth against you along with the taste of her cunt, nothing like the other people you’d ever slept with. You began licking stripes up and down, circling her clit with your tongue, your own hips bucking against Nancy’s face as you continued moaning against her own dripping cunt, your pleasure building. Nancy’s moan vibrating against your clit, driving you to suck more and wriggle your hips against her. She kept rubbing your thighs, so gentle yet breaking you apart at the same time. Eventually you both were rocking your hips against one anothers faces, moaning and whimpering echoing in the room. You felt that familiar build up, popping off Nancy’s clit obscenely and whimpering against her thigh, begging. 

“Fuck…Baby, please, fuck, fuck, fuck-,” You whined out as Nancy pulled off you, those delicate fingers now thrusting in and out of your entrance while her thumb rubbed at your clit. 

“You can let go, angel. Cum,” Nancy whispered, her stern tone pushing you to climax as you cried out, bones suddenly gone, somehow still rubbing at her clit until she moaned loudly, clenching around nothing. 

“Fuck, angel.”

You stayed leaned against her, your breathing still shallow as you both panted, her softly caressing your skin and laying gentle kisses on your skin, trying to catch her breath. You felt her whisper against your thigh, voice meek. 

“That was…better than the video I watched.” 

You laid in silence for a moment, brain still fuzzy before you laughed a bit, realizing Nancy meant she had watched (and probably studied in earnest) some porn. 

“Definitely.”

There was a beat of silence, the two of you comfortable and seemingly worn out for a second, before Nancy’s voice piped up below you. 

“So…are you willing to try something else?,” She asked cautiously. 

You scrambled up and sat across from her, admiring her naked body, her lean muscles and lithe stature. Your cunt clenched in lust again, your breath shallow. 

“We do have all night-,” You stated, cut off by another bruising kiss that had you falling backward again. 

Guess it’s true what they say…In New York, you can try many things.

Taglist: @reidsbtch

[kitchen-spoon]

Steve needs glasses

1989: Steve, Eddie, Robin, Nancy, and Max all live in Chicago together. Steddie and Ronance are in Established relationships and live together in apartments near each other. Max just moved to the city for university and Lives on Campus.

Before they all lived together Max figures out they are dating first and see’s Steve in glasses first because she cut herself pretty bad and was home alone. She goes to Eddie’s for help. He takes her to the kitchen and is cleaning her up when Steve walks out in his underwear covered in hickies with his glasses on asking what is going on.

Eddie is a mechanic. His style has changed a lot because of his job, he needs to dress more practical now. The few things he doesn’t give up are his septum and bridge piercings and his rings. He routinely takes them off and on everyday before and after work. Mostly he wears homemade muscle tank tops he cut himself that show his ribs made from band t-shirts. He wears work boots often now too. His hair is usually tied back into a ponytail and he uses his bandana to keep his bangs away from his face. His usual uniform also involves navy Carhartt overalls.

Steve works at a diner. On Wednesday nights he closes so Eddie, Robin, Nancy and max all come in after close and eat the leftover food that was going to be tossed. Nancy doesn't come often because she usually has work the next day and can't stay up late so, Eddie and Robin deffer to Max for Stories about Steve when he first started dealing with the upside down.

Eddie’s suspicion about Steve needing glasses starts right before they get togther. At first it was because of how much Robin brought it up but he just chalked it up to their weird wonder twins friendship. when He really notices though is when they go to a college party thanks to Nancy and Steve spills his drink trying to pour it in the cup while sober.

Eddie gets his suspissions confirmed when he gets Steve to admit he has trouble seeing one night. They are in the garage together, Steve is ‘helping’ by passing Eddie tools. He asks Steve to pass him a specific sized ratchet and Steve passes him the wrong size Twice. Eddie just straight up asks if Steve has trouble seeing but, Steve gets defensive and is like ‘alright asshole I get it I’m not handy jesus.” But Eddie calms him down, apologizes and asks again letting Steve know he is serious. He mentions the party and other things (squinting at the remote when he puts on movies, always clips the corner in the hallway going into the washroom.) And Steve finally relents and admits "maybe I’ve been having problems for the last year." Eddie freaks out, "like year?! Jesus Steve you need to go to an eye doctor. Seriously." and convinces him somehow.

They go. Steve’s head injuries / concussions have weakened his right eye. He has Amblyopia or a lazy eye. His brain has a disconnect and can’t recognize sight from his right eye as well. He’ll have to get glasses and wear an eyepatch. (which he only wears around Eddie) They make another appointment so he can get tests done and they can get his prescription.

Once they leave the eye office Steve makes Eddie swear not to tell anyone about anything. They talk about how needing glasses makes Steve feel weak and less useful, how he won't be able to protect the kids as well anymore and they won't trust him to keep them safe. He also worries about how they'll make him look because he knows he is stupid so all he has left going for him is his looks which will be ruined by the glasses. Eddie sits and listens and then talks Steve through all his worries, especially the ones abut his looks. Its how they have their first kiss and subsequently start dating.

After that Eddie takes Steve to all his appointments and they have little dates after to feel better. For one appointment Steve has to have his eyes dilated so Eddie really does have to come. It's on a Monday so Eddie has to come in his workboots, coveralls, and bandana right after work. Steve gets his eyes dilated and Eddie helps guide him around. They go to the cafeteria while they wait and have milk and cookies because that is all that is left. Eddie soaks the cookie bits for Steve and feeds him. Eddie laughs and says it’s what Steve looks like when he is stoned

When Steve gets his glasses and hangs out with Robin, Nancy and Max for the first time Eddie goes in first and is like don’t say anything or he’ll never wear them again and be blind by the time he’s 40.

[julesclues]

Falling In Love - Headcannons

Warnings: none

Word count: 383 words

Pairing: Eddie Munson x afab!reader

Summary: Eddie Munson realizing he’s in love with y/n and one day confessing

Eddie Munson had always thought of y/n as just a friend. They had grown up together in Hawkins, playing games and exploring the town's many secrets. But as they got older, Eddie began to see y/n in a different light.

It started with little things, like the way she laughed at his jokes or the way her hair shone in the sunlight. He found himself wanting to spend more time with her, to make her smile and hear her voice.

At first, Eddie didn't know what to make of these feelings. He had never thought of y/n as anything more than a friend, and he didn't want to risk ruining their relationship.

But as he spent more time with her, he began to realize that his feelings were more than just a passing crush. He was in love with y/n, and he couldn't ignore it any longer.

It hit him one night, as they were sitting on the roof of her house, looking up at the stars. Eddie was struck by the beauty of the moment, the way the sky seemed to go on forever and the peace of being with y/n. He knew in his heart that he wanted to be with her, to make her happy and be by her side no matter what.

It was a scary realization, but Eddie knew that he couldn't keep it to himself any longer. He turned to y/n, his heart pounding in his chest, and told her everything.

"I don't know when it happened, but I've fallen in love with you, y/n. I want to be with you, to make you happy and share my life with you. Will you be my girlfriend?"

Y/n looked at him, her eyes wide with surprise. For a moment, Eddie feared that he had made a mistake, that he had ruined their friendship forever. But then she smiled, a soft and beautiful smile that lit up her face.

“Yes, Eddie," she said, taking his hand. "I'll be your girlfriend."

Eddie felt like he was walking on air as he hugged y/n, his heart soaring with happiness. He knew that they had a lot to figure out, a lot of new territory to navigate, but he was ready for anything as long as he had y/n by his side.

[strangethlngs]

my first fic almost has 100 notes omg 😭😭 thank u guys SO MUCH

if ur here from my most recent fic, i am currently writing another steve x reader based on the song casual by chappell roan! however in the mean time ,,,, PLEEEASE request things :pppppp i have such an excitement about writing for stranger things rn and wanna keep up the momentum <3 i write for steve, robin, nancy, billy, and tentatively am wanting to challenge myself and start writing for eddie & jonathan as well !!

xoxoxo

[pandapetals]

spin the bottle

steve harrington x you - crush, spin the bottle game, kissing, swearing, the whole gang is in it, steve highkey in love with nancy still, not proofread. 

a/n: i had a dream about this soooo i wrote it down lol. 

The sun was starting to set as the living room grew dark, the glow of the tv providing little light. No one had attempted to move, too bored out of their minds to think. You sat on the couch with Eddie’s head in your lap as you absentmindedly played with his hair. Robin and Nancy sat near one another on the floor, Nancy’s eyes skimming the pages of a magazine while Robin stared at the tv. Steve sighed from the accent chair to the right of you. 

“I’m so bored.” He complained for the third time in a span of ten minutes. 

“I suggested we could watch a movie.” Eddie pointed out, which caused Steve and Robin to groan. “Okay, okay.” He said putting his hands up in protest.

“I swear I’ve seen every movie that has ever come out,” Robin replied turning away from the tv to look at you and Eddie. 

“I doubt that.” You replied with a laugh. 

“I didn’t say I watched them. I said I’ve seen every movie.” 

Steve sighed again, “I hate working at Family Video.” 

“Do you only complain?” Eddie asked sitting up to look at him, a smirk on his face.

“No.” Steve quickly replied as everyone nodded in agreement that Steve complained a lot, especially recently. It was obvious to everyone that something was wrong with Steve except Steve. He had gotten in this mood and just stayed there. 

“How about we play truth or dare?” Eddie asked as he stood up looking around at everyone with a smile. He flipped the light on making Robin squint her eyes. 

“Are we 12?” Nancy asked with a puzzled look. 

You laughed as Eddie pouted, “It was a suggestion since King Steve over here is dying from boredom.” 

“You know I hate that nickname,” Steve remarked as an idea came to you. 

Truth or dare wasn’t a bad idea but you wanted to play something a little riskier. You had a crush on Steve, a small one since the beginning of summer. It had developed into a huge one that everyone knew about except Steve. Steve had become clueless about everything recently.

“Why don’t we play spin the bottle?” You asked from the couch as four pairs of eyes darted over to yours. 

“Can we stop suggesting middle school games?” Robin said annoyed as Eddie sat down next to you with a grin. 

“C’mon guys. It’ll be fun. I’ve always wanted to kiss Steve.” Eddie teased, shooting a wink in Steve’s direction. Steve looked away as you glared at Eddie. The metalhead boy gave you a grin as you silently groaned. 

Spin the bottle was a terrible idea but you had wanted to confess your crush on Steve for a while now. There just never was a good moment to do so. Especially with Steve still hung up on the idea of him and Nancy getting back together. That was probably why Steve had failed to see how much you liked him. 

The gang had tried to help especially Eddie who thought you and Steve were perfect together. He would make little comments about the two of you but Steve still failed to see any of it. You had given up a few months ago hoping the crush would go away yet it was still there. 

“I don’t want to kiss Steve.” Robin finally said, “No offense but he's my best friend.”

“Best friends kiss each other all the time.” You tried to assure her but she didn’t look pleased. 

Nancy shook her head, “Sorry guys but I don’t think this is a good idea.” 

It was a terrible idea and Nancy knew it. You knew that but you couldn’t help yourself from wanting to give it a try. What if Steve kissed you and everything changed? You looked over at Eddie for support. He stood up clapping his hands, “We’re playing. It doesn’t have to be a make-out session just a peak.” 

Steve finally joined the conversation, “Okay, I’m in.” 

You could see the hope on his face, his eyes lingering on Nancy which only hurt you more. Steve hoped he would spin and kiss Nancy while you hoped the opposite. Nancy had moved on, her relationship with Jonathan still strong despite some bumps in the road. However, nothing seemed to change Steve’s mind. 

Nancy hesitated, “I don’t know.” 

Eddie assured everyone it would be fine before running off into the kitchen to grab some beers. He brought back one for everyone and an empty beer bottle he had gotten from the trash. “Everyone ready?” He asked as everyone sat down in a circle. You took a sip of your beer hoping for the best.

You could feel the tension between everyone. Nancy looked sick and for a moment you regretted suggesting the idea of this. However, one kiss wasn’t going to hurt anyone. It wouldn’t kill Nancy to kiss her ex-boyfriend if she had to. Robin had chugged down her beer letting out a burp which caused Nancy to cringe. You laughed as Eddie sat next to you.

Eddie placed the bottle in the center, “Who wants to go first?” He asked looking around at everyone. No one moved or said a word causing Eddie to groan. “I guess I will.” 

He spun the bottle forcefully making it spin fast. Your heart was beating so fast as you stared at the bottle until it slowed down. It finally came to a stop landing in front of Robin. The tension in the air seemed to fade as Eddie leaned toward Robin. 

The two shared a quick peak before Robin spun the bottle herself. The bottle had stopped before you knew it landing in front of Steve. “I’m not kissing you, dingus.” She announced as Steve playfully pouted. 

They awkwardly leaned toward each other, Robin giving Steve a peck on his cheek. You were excited to see who the bottle would land on for Steve’s turn but the excitement faded when the bottle stopped in front of Nancy. You could see Nancy's uncomfortable eyes staring at the bottle in disbelief. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t.” She blurted out giving Steve a sad look. 

“It’s just a game.” He assured her but Nancy shook her head getting to her feet.

“I need some air.” She whispered before darting off toward the kitchen. Robin was the first to get up following behind Nancy. 

“Shit.” Steve cursed under his breath as he got up too. “Why the hell did you suggest this game?” He asked trying to place the blame on you. 

“Hey, let’s just calm down. It’s just a stupid game.” Eddie cut in as he helped you up. You could see how upset Steve was by Nancy’s rejection yet again but instead of feeling sorry for him like you usually did, you were pissed. 

“This is just great. I’m pretty sure Nance is gonna hate me now.” Steve mumbled kicking the couch with his feet. 

“Why can’t you just stop?” You blurted feeling the anger blur your eyes. “Nancy is never going to want you as you want her.” 

Eddie had grabbed your wrist to stop you from getting in Steve’s face but you pulled away. “Eddie, please. Steve needs to get his head out of his ass.” Steve turned to glare at you. 

“What the hell is wrong with you? This game was your stupid idea and now look at what it’s done.” 

Eddie sighed stalking off to the kitchen as you said, “I suggested the game because I wanted to kiss you.” You frantically shouted watching as Steve’s face went from anger to confusion. 

“What?”

You rubbed your face with your hands feeling frustrated and silly. “I wanted you to kiss me. It’s all I wanted for the past few months. For you to see how much I like you yet all you do is complain and pine over Nancy.” 

Steve’s eyes searched yours as you continued, “Everyone except you knows that Nancy is happy with Jonathan. She moved on and so should you.” Steve stood there as you watched him process what was happening. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have suggested the game but I wanted you to know I have a crush on you.” 

“And everyone knows but me?” He asked as you gave him a weak smile. “I’ve really been so blind to everything, haven’t I?” 

You nodded taking a step closer to him, “Eddie was just trying to help, they all were.” 

Steve rubbed the back of his neck, “I’m sorry.” 

“Steve, I like you but you need to wake up. Nancy isn’t the same girl you fell in love with. None of us are the same people we were.” 

“I know.” Steve whispered as you pulled him into a hug, “I guess I wish nothing had changed.” 

You rubbed his back with your hand as you buried your head into his neck. “It’s hard to move on especially after everything that has happened but we’re here for you.” 

You can feel Steve shaking as if he was crying but when you looked up he had his eyes closed tightly. The whole upside-down Vecna bullshit had messed everyone up. Add that to trying to live a normal life with daily bullshit, it was a wonder how Steve kept it all together. “It’s okay.” You whispered letting Steve pull you tighter against him. 

“I’m so sorry.” He had said again, “I should have known you had a crush on me.” 

You laughed pulling a little away from him, “I thought I was laying it on thick.” 

Steve shrugged, “I thought you and Eddie were together.” 

“Eddie is a great friend. He really wanted me and you together. He was only trying to help.” You replied knowing Eddie was probably listening. Steve smiled stroking your cheek. “I don’t expect you to like me back.” 

Steve shook his head, “I’ve always liked you too. I just never said anything.” 

You smiled knowing everything would be okay in the end. Steve and you pulled apart as Eddie pocked his head out from the kitchen. “Everything okay?” He asked nonchalantly. 

“As if you weren’t listening.” You remarked making your way to the kitchen. 

Eddie grinned, “Does that mean you two are together now? Did you kiss? I didn’t hear kissing.” He rambled looking between you and Steve. Steve blushed avoiding the question as he went to the fridge to grab more beer. 

“We’ll see.” You replied giving a wink to Steve as Eddie groaned.

[eds6ngel]

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ nancy wheeler.

✩ sfw. ☾ nsfw.

nancy thoughts.

imagines!

☾ "relax, pretty girl" [0.9k].

☾ bratty bitch [2.4k]. - NEW !!

blurbs!

✩ morning honeydew [0.3k].

moodboards!

✩ final summer days

[friendsdontlieokay]

Everyone stays at Hopper's cabin the day that Hawkins split up, because of course the gate has opened and closed a few times already but this time is significantly different and far more treacherous than the other ones, so they need to stick up together from the very beginning, sure, the house is all jam packed but there is nothing much they can do about it.

The next morning they all sit for breakfast and Mike is fiddling with his fork and scrambled eggs like a toddler. Nancy's right beside him and offers him a few glances before finally speaking up "What are you doing?" Mike looks at her like she's paranoid or something for asking the most obvious question "what does it look like I'm doing? I'm eating breakfast" she burrows her eyebrows little "doesn't seem like it" Mike's a little surprised, because he hasn't realized yet that he's just sitting there playing with his food "what!?" Nancy's voice goes to a slightly higher pitch and tone "what do you mean what? You've literally been playing with your eggs like Holly does with her peas" He's a little off guard somehow, it's just that he's on edge and eating doesn't really seem very blissful at the moment especially since he has had eating disorders for quite some while.

He sort of burrows his eyebrows before speaking "It's just that-" "that these eggs are missing syrup" she smirks a little while pouring maple syrup over his scrambled eggs. He looks at her like she's insane, "payback" she says proudly.

His Mouth sorta falls open in surprise, not because he thought that's disgusting but because Nancy remembered that he likes the combination, and that wasn't a real payback but that was a way of getting energy into his body, he managed to keep his eyebrows furrowed together still pretending as if Nancy's insane though, and right then Nancy shoves the eggs in his mouth, a muffled "what the hell!?" comes out, but Nancy holds his chin into place so that he has no option other than to swallow it while she places a proud smile on her lips while whispering "payback" again.

She dusts off her hands and looks at Mike who still has his eyebrows furrowed further closer together and tight now, and this time he's not even pretending, he's genuinely a little annoyed. "Come on Mike you had pineapple pizza the other day, this can't be that bad!"

Argyle and El share a glance and speak up together "Hey!" "Too far my dude, too far".

"Nancy, it expired over a year ago!" Mike yelled at her while holding the bottle. Nancy's eyes grew wider in surprise, did she really semi bond with her brother after years of awkward silence with expired maple syrup!? Wow, Karen would kill her if she knew Nancy fed her boy rotten food.

"Wait wha-" before she could even finish the sentence, eggs and syrup were shoved into her mouth and she had no option but to swallow it all down. Instant karma! "Payback!" Mike whispered while holding the same exact mischievous look he had that day , and even though Nancy still found the combination disgusting, she was rather proud that she could break the ice between herself and her little brother, and after years of "bonding" over shared trauma, both familial and inter dimensional, they could finally bond over expired maple syrup while sharing a mouthful of giggles that had been repressed for years.

[localnerdforsteveharrington]

Hey everyone for day 1 of kinktober, I’m gonna post later as it is a praise link with regulus black. All other days are still open so please send in messages and asks for the other days.

[natashasfilms]

can you guys send in some blurb ideas though my inbox? i don’t mind for who, just check my pinned post to look at the fandoms i write for and then my request rules. i want to get back into writing for this blog again, so i would love it if you guys sent me some blurb ideas!

[dustysofa]

Robin throws Steve a little birthday party at family video, and Eddie is the only one who leaves his present for later.

A new little oneshot! kinda just indulgent fluff tbh (rated T! the summary was accidentally suggestive)

[sexwithnocondom]

DEATH MATCH — Eddie Munson

SYNOPSIS— In response to a question about how life has treated you, you would say that you have experienced both hell and back. You were raised in an environment full of people who were bought off and made to appear joyful out of greed. You were imprisoned in a world full of emotionally disturbed people, but what happens when you run into someone who is exactly like you—someone who is both cruel and sensitive at the same time?

WARNING— 18+, mdni. Violence, drug abuse, toxicity all around, toxic relationship between reader and parent, manipulation, alcohol use, controlling behavior, explicit sexual behavior and activities.

A/N— DO NOT READ IF SENSITIVE TO ANY OF THESE TOPICS! + Warning list will be updated as I go.

[fairyysoup]

i can see you

♫︎ i can see you - taylor swift ♫︎

pairing(s): steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: The secret history of your long and arduous relationship with Steve Harrington.

aka: the 5 times you pined over each other, and the time you actually did something about it

words: 17.6k (we're NOT gonna talk about it lol)

cw: explicit, smut, piv sex, flirting, making out, heavy petting, slight exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), fingering, marking, biting, steve harrington has a big dick, themes of infidelity/cheating (sort of), skipping out on dates, bad dates, steve steal-your-girl harrington, almost-kisses, jealous!steve, jealous!reader, possessive behavior, smoking, alcohol consumption, allusions to marriage but it's never actually mentioned, canon compliant, reader and steve are the same age, 5+1 things, songfic, angst, fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, pining, mutual crush, slow burn one shot, mild twist ending, begins in season two (1984) and ends in the 90s, high school, scoops ahoy era, family video era, waiter!steve, steve harrington (the eras tour), vignette, one instance of billy hargrove slander, original characters created for plot, inspired by i can see you by taylor swift, other taylor song inspo throughout bc i'm insane like miss swift

a/n: hi and welcome to ✨rose's mental breakdown✨ yes this song will be my number one on spotify wrapped bc i listened to it on a loop for five days straight while writing this. idk. anyways this is So Much and i'm tired of looking at it so if there are any mistakes i apologize. anyways whoever can point out the most taylor song references aside from the obvious titular one gets a doubloon

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

You brush past me in the hallway, and you don’t think I can see you, do you? I’ve been watchin’ you for ages, and I spend my time trying not to feel it…

Hawkins High, September 1984

He’s so pretty sometimes that it’s disgusting.

That’s really the only thing you think when you watch Steve Harrington sneak up on his girlfriend, Nancy Wheeler, and swoop her off the ground in front of her locker. From across the hall, your locker hangs open, your body turned halfway toward them so that you can pretend that you’re not staring.

You stare a lot.

It’s not exactly the hair, you think- everyone shits a brick about his hair, for some reason that you don’t understand. Yeah, it’s nice… but you like everything else about him, too. You like how sweet he looks when he laughs. You like the way that he holds himself and the way that he looks when he puts his hands on his hips and stands around like he’s directing the traffic around him. You like how much of a prince charming he is, really. It would surprise you if he doesn’t win prom king at the end of the year. They already call him King Steve, it’s not too far of a stretch.

You close your locker just as Steve kisses Nancy, in front of god and everybody in the C Corridor hallway. Steve’s arms wrap around Nancy’s petite frame and he dips her, like they’re in some sort of George Peck and Audrey Hepburn movie. Not that the place is much of a cinematic setting, though. Down the hall, the science rooms are doing their dissection units, so the whole place smells like formaldehyde and disinfectant, and you sort of feel like curling up into one of those dissection pans and dying, yourself. 

That should be me, your brain screams. Me!!

It’s always been like this. You’ve had a crush on Steve since freshman year- the fact that he’s dating Nancy, who’s a year younger than him, doesn’t escape your jealous mind. You’ve been in classes with him for four years, you’ve admired him quietly, you’ve hoped and prayed that he somehow noticed you noticing him.

You don’t think he knows you exist. Four years- and now you’re both seniors, about to graduate, and he still doesn’t notice you. You should really stop caring, or stop trying, or stop… pining. Or something. 

You hike your bag up onto your shoulder and juggle your books in your arms. The bell rings, and quite suddenly the entire hallway erupts into pandemonium (predictable, sure, considering everyone loiters around instead of actually getting to class on time). Kids fly around you in all directions to get to their next classroom. Nancy Wheeler ducks away from Steve Harrington, avoiding yet another kiss.

God, you wish you could kiss him.

Someone slams into your shoulder from behind, muscling past you to get to science lab 5, rat central. Your binder slips out of the stack of books in your arms and clatters loudly to the ground, just as someone walks past and kicks it across the floor.

“Fuck,” you spit, chasing after it. The back of your neck feels hot. For the first time in four years, you hope to god that Steve Harrington doesn’t notice you. 

You duck around people’s legs, trying to grab at your binder, while not trying to drop any more of the books in your arms. Loose papers are starting to fall out of the binder as it skitters across the floor, and this is becoming more and more of a comedy of errors by the minute.

Your fingers just brush the corner of it before someone kicks it again. 

“Do you mind?” you snap as they walk away, not even looking in your direction. Crouched close to the floor, you don’t matter. Maybe you could count that as a blessing, considering you don’t want to be perceived right now.

You finally just throw away all dignity and crawl across the tile floor- disgusting and dirty and covered in sandy grit, as though it hasn’t been cleaned all year- to get to your binder. 

And you come face to face with a pair of white Nike’s. Ones that you know way too well, because you’ve stared at them every time they’ve passed you in the hallway. 

Nonononono- You clench your jaw and then look up, way up, to find Steve Harrington towering over you. 

He looks like he was about to just step around you, but then he notices you gazing up at him from all fours, and his hazel eyes lock on yours. You blink at each other for a second before he flushes, a pink blush breaking out on his cheeks and crawling up his neck, and he looks away quickly, but crouches down to grab your binder before your hand can land on it. 

“Sorry,” Steve says quietly, gathering up the couple papers that had started to slide out of the folders inside. You sit back on your heels, your blood rushing in your ears, mortified. His big hands gently poke the papers back into the folder as they should be before he hands it to you. “Looks like you’re gonna be late to class.”

You scoff. “Look who’s talking.”

Steve’s eyes find yours again, and he’s finally so close to you that you can admire the little bit of green in them. You’ve never been close enough to notice before.

He cracks a lopsided smile, one that he uses to charm people, you know- you’ve seen him use it on teachers and cute girls alike. “I’m always late to the party. But I get there, eventually.”

“I hope so.” He cocks his head at you. He doesn’t know the real meaning to your words- or, at least, you don’t think he does. 

I hope you don’t stay oblivious forever, Steve Harrington. I hope you get there, eventually.

You take your binder from him, but you pull your eyes away from his a bit later than you properly should. “Thanks, Steve.”

You get up and take off toward your next class, walking quickly so that you don’t come off like you’re lingering too long. But, halfway down the hall, you look over your shoulder at him.

Steve hasn’t moved, still crouched down close to the floor, with his head bent like he’s deep in thought. With his back to you, you can still see the pink flush on the back of his neck, peeking out above his collared shirt.

‘Cause I can see you, waiting down the hall from me, and I can see you up against the wall with me. What would you do? Baby, if you only knew that I can see you…

Hawkins High, April 1985

Prom season sucks. Always has, and always will. 

Maybe it was your fault for hoping that Logan Sawyer, popular prick extraordinaire, was serious about wanting to take you to prom. He seemed serious enough, stopping by your locker during passing period and leaning over you as he asked you, his mega-watt smile making you blush. You’d counted yourself lucky- you didn’t think anyone was going to ask you, and people aren’t allowed to go to prom stag.

It took Logan two weeks to find a prettier girl to go with, though. You don’t know why it hurts so much. Maybe it’s because you wanted to believe that you were someone’s first choice, but it never quite seems to turn out that way.

You wipe your tears in the mirror, scowling at your puffy, bloodshot eyes. The bathroom next to the girls’ locker room in the sports wing is completely deserted at this time- the boys’ gym class is in session now, and you’re cutting into your lunch time, but you really don’t want to have to go and cry at a lunch table, in front of a bunch of your bitchy peers, who will inevitably make fun of you for it.

Sniffling, but slightly more composed, you head out of the bathroom. The sports wing is ridiculously bigger than any other wing of the school (typical of American public schools, to prioritize sports over every other department). The wing boasts weight training rooms, dance rooms, three separate gymnasiums, and a door directly to the football field, with the locker rooms on the farthest end to allow for easy access to the field. Connecting all of these rooms is the longest corridor in the building, which seems to run for half a fucking mile.

You’ll have to walk that half mile, because in order to get to the cafeteria, you’re gonna have to traverse the entire building. You might not get to eat much today, but it was a sacrifice you were willing to make. Maybe Mrs. Marshall will be kind enough to let you snack on a granola bar in your next class period.

Halfway down the long hallway, you feel the angry sting of tears behind your eyes again, and your face screws up in frustration. You stop, turning halfway back toward the girls’ bathroom, wondering if you should just go back in and allow yourself to cry some more.

Suck it up, you think to yourself, smacking at your tear stained cheeks. He’s not the guy you really want to ask you to prom, anyways.

You press your fingertips into your eyes to relieve the sting of tears, taking a deep breath. Being in high school is driving you crazy. At this point in the year, the teachers have given up teaching, the students have given up learning, and you’re basically just biding your time in a glorified babysitting service until you can inevitably grab your diploma and get out of here. You can’t wait for that time to arrive. 

A door opens further down the hallway, in the direction of the cafeteria. You wipe your nose once and keep moving in the direction you were going, not wanting to draw attention to yourself, standing in the middle of the hallway having a breakdown.

Moving forwards, you keep your eyes on the ground. Once you hear the door that had been opened slam shut again, you figure that whoever it was has moved on down the hallway, and you lift your eyes again. 

They have not, in fact, moved on. And you suddenly have the urge to turn and fucking run back into the girls’ bathroom, because Steve Harrington is bent over at the drinking fountain, directly outside the boys’ weight room.

What the fuck, what the fuck. You suck on your teeth, trying not to falter in your stride. Maybe he hasn’t seen you, and you can just pass him up. It’s fine, he hasn’t seen you crying. 

Your mind backtracks to the beginning of the year, you fumbling your binder all the way across the hallway and ending up right in front of him, crawling toward him. Looking up at him and probably, most definitely, making him really uncomfortable.

You have English class together, where you sit at the desk closest to the door. He comes in late almost every day, so he passes by you every time. Some days he looks at your desk. On good days, he meets your eye. But he hasn’t spoken to you since that day in September, and you really shouldn’t hold out hope that he will. 

You definitely don’t want him to notice you when you’ve been crying, your face is a mess, your hair is limp and you look bedraggled. You just want to fade into the background of your next class with whatever snack you can get from the cafeteria snuck into your bag, so you can stress eat it without any guff from a teacher (like you aren’t 18 and capable of deciding when you are and aren’t allowed to eat).

You keep your eyes down. If you don’t look at him, he doesn’t exist.

Except, Steve Harrington always exists, in the back of your mind, and in your periphery. He is impossible not to notice, as per usual. He really just draws the eye like a magnet. Try as you might, your eyes keep flicking up to take stock of him. 

He’s wearing a uniform gray P.E. shirt and gym shorts that don’t leave a lot to the imagination, and you fixate on his thighs more than you should. He has sweat dripping down his neck, wetting his hair on the sides of his face and the seam of his shirt. It shouldn’t be attractive. He shouldn’t be attractive. With his face a mess. And his hair limp, and looking bedraggled. Truly, you make a priceless pair, being the only two people in the hallway.

We’re perfect for each other, a voice says in your head. And you manage, for the first time in an hour, to crack a smile down at your shoes.

He finishes getting his drink at the fountain, and you figure that he’ll just go back into the weight room and not see you. But, of course, luck is not on your side.

Steve Harrington looks at you. And you look away, quickly, acting like you hadn’t been staring at him. And in your periphery, again, you see him stretch his arms over his head, and then turn and lean against the cinderblock wall beside the door to the weight room, with his hands on his knees as though he’s catching his breath.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

He does it so casually, and with the way he’s sweating and his face is flushed, you’re sure that he probably does just want to take a break before going in and lifting more weights. But something in the back of your mind says that the maneuver was too purposeful, immediately after he laid eyes on you. 

It could just be wishful thinking on your part. You heard through the grapevine that Steve and Nancy Wheeler broke up in a nasty way just before winter break, and it doesn’t seem like he’s been interested in anyone since. He hasn’t dated anyone, hasn’t flirted with any girls or showed up at any parties. Nancy must have really broken his heart.

You know too well what that feels like, right now.

Nearing where he leans against the wall, you keep your head down and you plan on just passing by without any acknowledgement from him, same as it ever was. If he’s still carrying a torch for Nancy, you’re sure that he doesn’t want anything to do with you. You’ve nearly convinced yourself of it.

But then you hear your name called quietly, and it nearly makes you jump. You look over at him, thinking you’re just hearing things, but you look directly into a pair of hazel eyes again, and you feel yourself rocketing back in time to September.

You didn’t even think he knew your name.

You slow to a stop. It would be rude not to stop, right? “Uh… hi, Steve. You good?”

Steve Harrington looks you up and down, while he leans against the wall and breathes a bit heavily, like he’s out of breath. He peers at you through long eyelashes, looking impossibly inviting despite everything; the setting, your appearances, the way that you feel like dissolving into a puddle right in front of him. “Yeah, great. You?”

He’s scrutinizing your face now. You shrug, since he’s already seen you, and there’s no way to pretend you weren’t crying thirty seconds ago. “I’m fine. Just being dramatic, don’t worry about me.” 

“When people say not to worry about them, it usually means that you should,” Steve muses. He looks coy, like he’s speaking from experience. 

You sigh, stepping forward to get your own drink from the drinking fountain. “Logan Sawyer called off our date for prom.”

“Oh.” Steve pauses for a few seconds, watching as you bend down and take your drink, more silent than he usually is. “I mean… that really sucks. I’m sorry. But… Logan Sawyer?”  

“Yeah.” You wipe your mouth, and then wet the ends of your fingers and use the cool water to rub at your stinging eyes again. When you’re done, you lean up against the wall beside him, letting your back settle into the cinderblock.

“The guy’s a fucking douche.”

“Tell me about it.”

“No, I mean it, I think it’s a good thing you’re not going to prom with him. He’s really shitty to girls.” You look up at Steve, who’s watching you with his arms crossed, with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen him wear. “I mean, the only guy worse than Logan is probably… I dunno…”

“Billy Hargrove?” 

Steve laughs. Actually laughs. You’ve wanted to make him laugh like that for four years. His cheeks turn crimson and he grins down at his shoes, snickering like there’s way more to the joke he’s laughing at than you even know about. “Yeah. Yeah, he’s gotta be the worst.”

You chuckle, albeit with a sadder tone than he has. “Well, I’m not going to prom with either of them. So, I can count my blessings. I guess.”

Steve frowns, and he looks like he’s going to say something else, but you’re already turning away, not wanting to continue the depressing conversation about your lack of dates. Especially not from the one guy who you desperately want to go on a date with.

You get a few steps away before he takes a step after you, saying, “Wait. You, uh-”

You stop, and look back at him. He looks dumbfounded, his arm outstretched like he was going to try to grab you if you didn’t listen to him. When you frown, he steps back against the wall, bringing his hand up to run through his hair. 

Oh . That’s a nervous tick. You know it, because you’ve watched him do it more than once in English, in front of the class during a presentation.

Steve looks down at his shoes, his brow scrunched in thought. He looks like he’s really trying to find the right words to say. In your head, a hopeful part of you imagines what those words could be. ‘Will you go to prom with me?’

Finally, he looks up at you resolutely. “You’ll find someone to take you to prom. I’m sure of it.” He nods a little, like he’s reassuring himself that he said the right thing. 

You can’t help the smile that springs onto your face. It’s incredulous, of course, but he can’t know that. Keep trying, baby. You’ll get there, eventually.

“Thanks, Steve.” It’s the second time you thank him in the course of the year.

But what would you do if I went to touch you now? What would you do if they never found us out? What would you do if we never made a sound?

Prom Night, May 1985

The dress you’re wearing is sleek and a lot simpler than some of the more popular styles on the dance floor, but you like it more than you care to admit. You’d just grabbed it off the rack at Macy’s, and beyond that you didn’t want to go all-out for prom. It turns out that your lab partner, Gavin Connelly, needed a date, too. So, you’re here with him, because you knew that if you missed prom, you would probably regret it.

Except, well.

Gavin, stoned out of his fucking mind, is sitting at one of the tables, nursing a cup of punch, looking like he’s two seconds from falling asleep. You’ve taken to making the rounds and saying hi to anyone you can call a ‘friend,’ because you’re tired of just loitering next to him. Something tells you he didn’t want to even be here.

The speakers are playing ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart,’ and couples are swaying on the dance floor in a Bonnie Tyler-induced haze. At a loss for people to bother, you wander back over to your date to find his head plastered to the white table cloth. 

You glance to the guy sitting next to him, a kid with glasses who you don’t recognize but who seems to know your date, because he’s just patting Gavin’s back. “Is he okay?”

“Oh, no, he’s dying.” The kid shoots you a sarcastic smile. 

You nod, pressing your tongue hard to the roof of your mouth. “Well, if he wakes up, tell him I’m getting some air.”

Fuck this. Fuck prom. Fuck high school boys.

Your heels, which are killing your feet already, click loudly on the tile hallway floor as you exit the gym. The table where you can check your bag and coat are located at the other end of the hall, where everyone is supposed to enter through the door to the football field.

You can hear voices from the far end of the hall, and Bonnie Tyler’s voice fading out the further you get from the gym. You might never be able to hear that song again without thinking of your ruined slow dance opportunity.

As you pass by, someone coughs off to the left and you turn your head to see Steve Harrington, black tie and all, loitering in the shadows. You stop a few feet from him and squint into the dark.

You can’t believe it. He always seems to show up at the worst times. “What are you doing, skulking around?” 

“I’m not sulking.”

You snort, stepping into the shadows with him. “No, skulk- like, sneaking around?” 

“Well, I didn’t mean to sneak-” he looks over his shoulder at the gym entrance. “I’m just getting some air.”

“Funny,” you murmur. “I was just about to do the same thing.”

He eyes you, a lot like he did a few weeks ago in this same hallway, further up toward the other end of it. He takes in your hair, styled painstakingly to ‘perfection,’ or as close as you could approximate it, and your off-the-rack department store dress. You suddenly feel like you aren’t as pretty as you thought you were at the beginning of the night. 

But then he meets your eye, and all those insecurities fade into the back of your mind. He’s smiling at you, and that can only be a good thing.

“So, uh…” Steve leans back against the wall, his hands in his pockets, “You found someone to take you?”

You press your lips into a tight line. You don’t really want to think about your date right now, but- “Gavin Connelly.”

“Who?”

You laugh, kicking the heel of your shoe against the ground with a soft clack. “Yeah. God, I wish I didn’t know him right now.”

“Why, what’d he do?” Steve sounds perturbed. You look up to find him scowling already.

“Oh, he just ate a pot brownie before he picked me up and passed out at one of the tables.” You finish with a tired giggle, shrugging at Steve as he peers at you with an annoyed expression. “Who did you bring?”

“Kelly Palmer.” 

You know Kelly. She doesn’t say much, but she’s gotten a scholarship to a big art school. “Do you like her?”

“Yeah, she’s nice,” he says mildly. Unconvincingly.

You can understand the subtext. She’s not Nancy. When you look at his face, he seems tortured in the low light coming from down the hall.

“Guess I’m oh-for-two,” Steve adds after a pause. “Last year’s prom, Nance and I didn’t have such a good time, either.”

You nod. It seems like there’s more he wants to say, but he doesn’t. “I’m sorry,” you offer. You don’t know the ins-and-outs of Steve and Nancy’s relationship, aside from watching them suck face in the hallway five paces from you for a year and a half. “Prom sucks. High school sucks. These can’t be the best years of our lives, trust me.”

“Yeah, I hope not.” 

“I just can’t wait to get out of here, you know,” you grumble, allowing your sour mood to come out a little more than normal. It seems like Steve is just really good at getting you to let your guard down. “I’m planning to go to Chicago for college. This is all just… you know, it’s just the starting point. What about you, any big plans?”

“Dunno. I didn’t get accepted to any schools, so I’ll just be getting a job here in town until something better comes along.” Steve shifts, his heel hitting the wall behind him. He looks disappointed when he says, “I think I made too many mistakes.” 

You frown, chewing on your lip. “What do you mean?”

He gives you a heavy look, like he’s gearing up to say something important, something game changing- and then his gaze softens. 

“You’ve got an eyelash.” He gestures to his own eye, like it’ll make you understand exactly where the loose one is on your face.

“Oh.” You falter, lifting your manicured hands and wiping at your undereyes. “Did I get it?”

“No, uh- here, I can-” Steve tentatively reaches forward, and you step toward him to let him touch your face. 

Steve Harrington is touching your face.  

His fingertip brushes your cheekbone, so featherlight you would barely feel it if you weren’t hyper aware of everything that he said or did. His touch glides across your cheek and toward your temple, and then he seems to keep it there, his hand hovering just over your skin.

Reflexively, your hand comes up to rest on his shoulder. You’re inches from Steve’s face, your eyes falling to his lips.

You could kiss him. You could live your fantasy, right now.

Steve’s gaze lingers on your face for a moment, and then he says, “You’re so beautiful.”

Your heart lurches in your chest. He doesn’t say that you look beautiful. He doesn’t say it conditionally, like it’s just for tonight. You are beautiful. Even when you’re crawling on all fours after your binder. Even when you’re crying, and your hair is limp, and you look bedraggled.

“Steve…” you whisper, inching closer to him. 

“STEVE??!”

You jump away from him like he’s burned you, and peek around the hall corner to see Kelly Palmer standing outside the gym looking up and down the hall, searching for him. She looks lost, and sad, like he must have ditched.

She looks an awful lot like you just did, coming out of that gym.

You feel Steve’s hand where it had fallen to your wrist, dragging your attention gently back to him. You take his hand and squeeze it once, giving him a tight smile. 

“You brought her here for a good time,” you say with your bravest smile. “Just don’t pass out at one of the tables on her, okay?”

Don’t be a douche. Don’t be like Logan Sawyer. 

Steve swallows, and gives you a short nod. You think he finally got there.

You give a soft pat to the lapel of his suit jacket. “Go get ‘em, tiger.” 

He touches your arm one final time before he slips around the corner, just as Kelly turns to go back into the gym. You watch him walk away, and you think to yourself, That’s the last time I chase after Steve Harrington.

Wherever there is, it’s not with you.

Steve loops his arms around Kelly’s waist and lifts her, earning a thrilled squeal as the silver taffeta of her dress glints blue in the light from the gym. You wait until they’ve disappeared back into it before you turn and high-tail it toward the coat check table.

And we kept everything professional, but something’s changed, it’s something I like. They keep watchful eyes on us, so it’s best if we move fast and keep quiet…

Starcourt Mall, June 1985

“Come on, it’s ridiculously hot outside,” your best friend, Shelly, groans as she pulls you along by the wrist. “I can’t believe they only have one ice cream place here.”

“I’m sure they have slushies at the-”

“Ice. Cream.” You know better than to argue with her.

Scoops Ahoy has a novelty nautical theme that makes you want to both laugh and break down in tears when you see it. The PA is playing a cutesy rendition of Drunken Sailor on accordion, and you think that if you keep looking at the striped wallpaper behind the counter, you might get literally seasick. In the mall. In landlocked Indiana. 

Or… is it landlocked if it fronts Lake Michigan? It doesn’t matter. You’ll be in Chicago in two days, anyways.

You let Shelly drag you along until you look towards the front counter, and you see something that nearly makes you trip and face plant into Shelly’s fresh perm.

Even Shelly pauses. “Is that who I think it is?”

It’s something about the stupid little sailor’s cap and shorts, and that he’s so, so pretty in it, you think. It’s also something about how you have the perfect vantage point to watch him try and fail to flirt with the girl that approaches the counter to order. You’re enamored with him. There’s no other way to describe it. 

You have half a mind to run away, after what you promised yourself on prom night over a month ago. You’d done good, you didn’t search for him in the halls, you ignored him in your last couple of class periods with him. You’d even been in the bathroom when his name was called at graduation. 

But, here he is. Steve Harrington, absolutely obliterating his chances of getting a date with the girl ordering a sundae ahead of you. 

Honestly, you don’t know what you’re waiting for. Maybe an invitation? A sign from god that today’s the day that you’ll make a move? Or maybe this is just a test of will.

You stop resisting Shelly’s attempts to drag you along, and straighten your spine. You can do this. Four years’ worth of pining won’t make a difference in whether or not you order a strawberry ice cream cone.

He’s even prettier up close, his rosy cheeks framed by sunkissed, wavy hair. When he sees you he stalls, going a bit wide-eyed and then seeming to realize he’s supposed to do his job. He leans heavily against the counter. “Ahoy, ladies! Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your captain, Steve Harrington.”

“Uh-huh.” You stare at each other for a long moment. “How much do they pay you to recite that script?”

“Absolutely nothing, I do this for pure enjoyment.” You’re almost sure that he doesn’t. He pauses, a hand poised on his hip. “Too much?”

“I’d dial it back just a smidge. Maybe keep the ahoy and the captain thing and toss the rest.” 

“Noted.” He nods slowly, his eyes fixed on you. “I thought you were going to Chicago?”

“I leave the day after tomorrow,” you shrug. “Still time for me to burn the place down, you know.”

“Well, I’m glad you stopped by,” Steve chuckles. “I could show you where the gas line is, then we’d all be in trouble.”

“Oookay.” Shelly gives you a curious side-eye, and then turns back to Steve. “Well, I’ll have a U.S.S. Butterscotch with a chocolate dipped waffle bowl, if you don’t mind.”

Steve tears his eyes away from you long enough to grin at Shelly. “Coming right up. And for you?”

You freeze, glancing up at the menu. It’s written in an infuriatingly cutesy code-language that you have to decipher. “Um. I’m still deciding.”

“All right, then. Just let me know, when you’re ready.” 

Steve slips away to make Shelly her sundae, a heaping pile of ice cream and butterscotch syrup that looks like the fast track to a heart attack. You alternate between trying to comprehend the menu and being distracted by Steve in that stupid sailor’s uniform.

The script on the menu may as well be written in a foreign language. Blackbeard’s Delight. Treasure Island Turtle. U.S.S. Sherbet. The sizes are even harder to understand. Fathom. League. Nautical Mile. You don’t have the capacity to decipher it- your eyes are seeing the words, but your mind is traveling back to prom night, and feeling Steve’s finger on your cheek as you gear up to kiss him.

“Are you ready?”

“Mhm…” It takes you a second to zone back into the present moment, where Steve is standing in front of you, on the other side of the counter, waiting to take your order. He waits, with a patient smile on his face, while you blink dumbly at him.

What did you say? What did he say?

“I… um.” You’re sure you look completely out of it. Your eyes flick nervously up at the menu, that you still can’t fucking read. Shelly’s already gone to sit down with her sundae, the traitor.

“It’s kind of hard to understand, isn’t it?” Steve says quietly after a moment, dropping the phony customer service charade. “I hate it. I think we should just be able to say what our favorite ice cream flavor is and be done with it.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, still squinting up at the menu. Blackbeard’s Delight: blackberry swirl with blueberry syrup and a gold doubloon. “The fuck is a doubloon?”

Steve snorts, and reaches under the counter before bringing back a handful of gold foil-covered chocolate coins, which he dumps into your outstretched hand. “You want more? We get them wholesale.”

“I’m good,” you giggle, juggling the chocolate coins before they go cascading to the floor. “I think… I don’t… I don’t understand a thing on that menu.”

“What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?” He leans forward to ask you, like it's a secret. Just between the two of you. His head bent a little to peer at you closely, so close that you can count the freckles on his skin.

You glance over your shoulder. Shelly is seated by the far wall, under a painting of a kraken, giving you an indignant look. When she notices you looking, she mouths an emphatic, ‘LET’S GO!’

“Don’t tell anyone,” you whisper, and Steve affects his gravest expression as he nods. “Strawberry.” 

“A classic,” he grins. “Fan of sprinkles?” 

“I can dig a few sprinkles.”

“Perfect. I think we have something up your alley.” He grabs a scooper out of the bin and twirls it once, just to show off. “Sex on the Beach.” 

“What?” You don’t remember seeing anything about that on the menu.

He glances up to smirk at you before shrugging. “It’s strawberry ice cream with peach syrup. You’ll see.”

You keep an eye on his hands behind the glass partition, watching them put two scoops of strawberry into a medium sized carton. Completely unable to rein in your thoughts before they get away from you, you’re thinking about how good they would feel under your shirt. You follow a treasure map of freckles trailing up his arms, disappearing under the blue sailor’s shirt he wears. You want to kiss every single one of them.

You finally reply, “I guess I have to put my faith in your professional ice cream slinging abilities.” 

“Oh, haven’t you heard?” Steve mutters sardonically as he squirts peach syrup across the two scoops of ice cream, giving it a golden sheen. “I’m the king of cream.”

You purse your lips as it takes Steve a second to realize what he just said. When he does, he snaps his head up to meet your eye in horror. 

He opens his mouth to take it back, but you shake your head, holding back laughter. “Don’t ruin it.”

“I think it’s pretty much ruined already.” He turns crimson, blushing down at the half-made sundae as he rapidly shakes yellow sprinkles onto it. “I was doing so good, too.”

“Who says you aren’t still?” You give him a cute smile when he looks up through his lashes at you, still arranging toppings on the sundae. You’re not sure what happened between prom and now to change him so much, but it’s almost as if he’s… goofy. He’s less concerned with appearances, he’s more laid back and willing to make fun of himself. 

You like it a lot. 

You watch him plop two maraschinos onto one ice cream mound, and wedge a candied orange slice into the other, inverted, to look like a setting sun. As he passes it over the counter to you, he says, “Here you go, one Sex on the Beach. On the house.”

“What? No, I couldn’t-”

“I mean it. For overlooking my stupidity,” Steve insists. He gives you a meaningful look when he adds, “A million times over.”

“I’m not overlooking anything when it comes to you, Steve,” you tell him fondly, and drop one of the doubloons into the tip jar. It’s gaudy, gleaming artificially gold in the middle of the crumpled up dollar bills. “Hang onto that. You might be able to cash it in for a kiss someday.”

Steve blinks rapidly, leaning across the counter as you walk away. “After you come back from Chicago, right?”

You look over your shoulder, and you wink at him.

When you finally stop in front of Shelly, and you use your plastic spoon to dig into the adorable sundae that Steve crafted for you, you remember that you’d gone up to the counter with every intention of ignoring Steve and acting like you didn’t even know him.

You winked at Steve Harrington. You said you’d kiss him. You think back to the girl who was so afraid of Steve even noticing her, almost a year ago, and wonder where she went.

You look down at Shelly. She’d graduated a year before you, so she wasn’t there to witness every blunderous interaction you’d had with Steve in school. You never told her how in love you were with him.

Now, she looks up at you coyly. “So. Steve Harrington, huh?”

“Shut up,” you grunt, looking up and out at the food court outside of the Scoops Ahoy storefront. “As if you know everything.”

“Are you gonna try to make something out of that…” she gestures vaguely with her spoon toward the counter, “before school starts?” 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you say honestly, still poking at your sundae. “Anyways, I leave too soon for anything to really happen. What- I screw him tomorrow and then fuck off forever? It’s just wishful thinking, probably.” You finally take a bite of the ice cream, just to punctuate your sentence.

“Hm. Probably. How is that?” Shelly nods at the ice cream in your hand. “Looks pretty.”

“It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” You’re being honest. Something about the peach syrup with the strawberry base literally evokes the flavor of a sunset. “They should give him a raise.”

Humming, Shelly stands and takes her half-eaten sundae. She nudges you in the direction of the door. “C’mon. We’ve gotta eat these before the next showing of The Breakfast Club.”

Steve watches you and your friend leave, with the wistful gaze of someone who just watched their greatest opportunity walk away from them. He never knew that it was possible to hate an entire geographic location, but he really wishes Chicago would get blown off the map in the next 24 hours. 

The wooden partition doors slam open, and Robin’s head appears in the window to the kitchen. “The cream king? Do you want me to actually hurl?”

“I said, ‘the king of cream,’” he groans, digging his knuckles into his eye sockets. “Kill me, Robin. Load me into the freezer. Bury me at the fairground.”

“You think you’re valuable enough to displace that much ice cream?” Robin rolls her eyes, and with another loud thwack, her white board appears in the space behind her. “We don’t make anything called Sex on the Beach. This is a family establishment.”

“I made it up.” 

Robin coos, “Aww. Be still my heart. You love her to the point of invention.” 

Steve whirls around. “Love? Who said anything about love?” 

“I did.” Robin uncaps her dry-erase marker and draws a tally mark under the side that reads, you rule.

“Uh, Robin,” Steve snaps, pointing at the board condescendingly. “I think you put that on the wrong side. I fucked it up.”

“Dingus. Please. As much as it makes me gag- and you know I gain immense pleasure from counting how often you screw up- I could practically hear her heart eyes.” She sets the white board down, begrudgingly. “I think you found the only girl alive who’ll find all this-” she waves her hand at him, “endearing. Who was she? Some ex of yours?” 

“If only,” Steve sighs, shaking his head. When he turns back to the counter, his eyes land on the single chocolate coin glinting in the tip jar.

He scoops it up with two fingers and pockets it.

You won’t believe half the things I see inside my head. Wait ‘til you see half the things that haven’t happened yet…

Family Video, March 1986

The air conditioning nearly blasts you backwards into the parking lot. You don’t know why they need it blasting so hard at 7pm, in the middle of March. It’s not like it’s the height of summer- your spring break takes place earlier than the local school’s, but it just means that you get to beat the crowds when you come home to visit your family.

Of course, they love to send you to run errands. You end up picking up the groceries, and the housewares, and, on this occasion, the choices for family movie night. 

This Family Video’s selection isn’t necessarily as extensive as the ones in Chicago, but it’s good enough. You enter the store, and it dumps you directly in front of a cardboard cutout of Phoebe Cates about to flash you. Family friendly entertainment, and all.

The TV in the corner is running the final scene of The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly- Ennio Morricone’s score plays dramatically into the empty store. There’s no one behind the counter currently, so you pull the list of videos your extended family members had all requested. The Breakfast Club. Camelot. The Birds. Pretty general selections for your family, but it seems like you’ll have to hunt them up on your own. 

You’re wandering down the romance aisle, since The Breakfast Club was nowhere on the new releases or comedy shelves, when someone finally emerges from the back room. You see a flash of a head moving toward the front counter from over the top of a rack, and you take it as your chance to ask for help.

“Excuse me? Do you guys have any copies of The Breakfast Club, or-”

You stop short, choking on your words. Steve Harrington turns around to look at you, carrying a stack of VHS tapes perched under his chin, and holding a folded up piece of paper between his teeth.

You stare each other down for a second, before Steve gracefully spits the paper over his shoulder and onto the counter. “Hey, um… long time, no see?”

“I’d say.” You tilt your head. Funny how quickly your eyes will hone in on his lips, like searching for a target every time. “We always seem to run into each other like this. What happened to the ice cream gig?”

“Starcourt burned down,” Steve says, plopping the stack of VHS tapes down on the counter beside the paper he spit out. “Right around the Fourth of July, last summer.”

“So, right after I last saw you?”

Steve smirks to himself before he turns back to you. “Yeah. Like, a week or so after. Did you manage to burn the place down, after all?” 

“I wish.” 

You pause, taking the time to size him up. It’s amazing what the better part of a year will do to someone, inside and out. With a striped shirt and green vest, he looks much more relaxed and casual than he had at Scoops Ahoy. His hair’s a little longer, his eyes a little darker as they rake over you, in return. 

You’re a little bit desperate to see what’s going on in his head, if it’s anything like what’s happening in yours.

You wish you could say that you tried to seek him out when you got back to town- a year ago, maybe you would have. But you’d pretty much given up on the idea of him, moving up to dating college boys who don’t string you along, who don’t wait until the last minute to finally try their hand at flirting with you. If he ever passed through your mind, it was with the attached hope that he’d found greener pastures than Hawkins, Indiana. Foolishly, you hoped that as long as you told yourself that he’d moved on, it would be true. And then maybe what could have been wouldn’t matter anymore.

You’d stepped back into Hawkins after half a year of college, the graveyard of all hope in your happily ever after, and you hadn’t even thought of Steve Harrington. Except, seeing him now, everything comes flooding back. All the days spent pining over him. All the close brushes you’d had with finally getting the ending you wanted. 

You have to be honest. “You look good, Steve. You always do.”

Steve chuckles, tilting his chin down as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his light wash jeans. “Better without the sailor costume, right?”

“Aww, I liked the sailor costume.” You step closer so you can whisper, “I thought it was sexy.”

Steve peers down his nose at you, drawing himself up to tower above you at his full height. He tries to look unaffected, but you can see his ears glowing pink beneath wisps of golden highlights. “Watch it. You’re gonna give me an ego.”

“We don’t want that, do we?” You unfold the list of movies you’re here to collect, holding it up to him between two fingers. “Got any of these movies?” 

Steve reads the short list, and nods to himself. “I know we have Camelot, but I’m not sure about The Breakfast Club. Let me check in the back?” 

“I’ll be here.”

“All right- don’t get up to any trouble, though. I’ve got my eye on you.” He points at you coolly, feigning an authoritative expression. He tries to hide his smile, but the creases around his eyes give him away. 

“I hope you do.” You try to appear casual as you breeze past him, but you have to fiddle with your jacket collar to hide their shaking. Still, you feel the sweep of his gaze on you like rays of sun on your skin. It frightens you how easily you can fall back into the old back-and-forth routine you established in high school- how he gets you to say things you never meant to voice, but that live in your head effortlessly. 

Steve watches you disappear down the drama aisle before he takes in a huge breath of air and bolts toward the back room. Any and all coolness he was performing disappears like so much smoke. Slamming open the door, he nearly shouts, “Do you have a doubloon?!” 

Robin startles, swinging around in her seat, looking away from her computer screen. “A what? Why are you yelling?”

“A doubloon, a f-fucking-” Steve looks quickly over his shoulder, out the door, and starts hunching over as he whispers, “a chocolate coin. Like one of those ones we had at Scoops, remember?”

“Why do you want a chocolate coin?” Robin squints at him. “Stop crouching like that, you look like Nosferatu.”

Steve hisses through his teeth, and he’s got a frantic edge to his expression that Robin doesn’t like. “Okay- remember that girl, the one who showed up at Scoops that time, and you gave me my one and only ‘You Rule’ tally?” 

“No.”

“Great. Well, she’s here, and she told me if I gave her one of those chocolate coins she’d kiss me.” Steve shoves his hands through his hair, mussing up the already disheveled style. “Please, Rob, I can’t let her get away again. I’ve done it, like, a thousand times already.” 

“Okay, Romeo,” Robin humors him, turning around in her seat. “So you’re saying this babe, who I very much don’t remember because you always struck out while we worked at Scoops, told you that if you bribed her with chocolate she’d kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t think she was maybe joking?” 

Steve opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water. Truthfully, he hadn’t. He’d overlooked the idea that, after everything that had happened between you, you might just be joking about kissing him. 

“You know you could use your actual charm to get a girl to kiss you?” Robin dips her chin, shaking her head like it’s obvious.

Steve frowns. As if he hasn’t already tried that. “Do you have any chocolate coins or not?”

Robin sighs exasperatedly. “I don’t think I’ve seen one of those things since we worked at Scoops. Sorry, bud. You’re out of luck.” 

“FUCK!” Steve’s hand smacks the door as he heads out of the back room, making Robin scowl after him. She shakes her head as she turns back to her work.

Back out on the sales floor, the credits to The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly have finished, and white noise fills the empty space. Steve turns in a circle by the checkout counter, searching for you among the aisles.

Where did you disappear to, this time? A part of him dreads the answer. He was the one who fucked everything up- he shouldn’t have chickened out when he had the chance. He should have asked you to that fucking prom, but he was too scared to commit after what happened with Nancy. 

If this is his last chance, he needs to make it count. 

He coughs into the dead air, and says, “Looks like we’re all out of The Breakfast Club.” There’s a disconcerting amount of silence that leaves him cold, almost certain that you’ve left already, for the last time.

Then, you appear from behind the red curtain to the adult videos section.

Oh.  

“Everything okay?” you ask sweetly as you approach, holding a couple tapes that you must have picked up while you shopped around. “I heard some yelling back there.” 

“Oh, yeah. Just, uh… shelving issues.” Steve backs his way behind the counter. He repeats, “Sorry, I couldn’t find the movie for you.”

“I heard. I’m not worried about it.” You plop the tapes that you did find on the counter. “It was nice of you to look for me. Thanks, Steve.”

“Always.” Steve starts scanning your tapes; it looks like you managed to find the other films on your list, along with one for yourself. From the adult section. 

You watch in amusement as you can see the cogs visibly turning in Steve’s head, while he stares at the front of the porn video you picked. Spring Break Sex Party II. Not that you’d ever seen the first one, but the cover of this one was suggestive enough- a bunch of drunk people naked on a beach, lying in a great big pile. Looks like fun, in your opinion.

You always love seeing Steve blush. The prettiest shade of pink colors his cheeks before he glances up at you. “Should I ask…?”

“It’s the closest thing to getting a Sex on the Beach, here.” 

Steve chokes, and he scrambles for a response to that. “I- I was gonna ask for an I.D.”

“You know we’re the same age,” you deadpan.

“Y-yeah. I, uh- I know… I know that.” He hangs his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyes tightly shut.

You wonder if this is what you looked like to him, that time in the hallway when he loitered by the fountain to talk to you. “Breathe, Steve.”

A blast of laughter leaves his mouth before he can swallow it. If only you knew how hard it actually is, to act like he’s not just fucking melting right in front of you. When he hangs on every word you say, and every other thought he has is about how badly he wants to tell Robin to get lost and take you in the back room. You don’t know how much he’s fixating on your curves and how they’d feel against him, how much he wants to taste every inch of your body. He’s practically vibrating in place with all his pent up frustration, and you’re here buying porn, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Steve clears his throat, shakes his head. Christ. “Okay, well. You know that this is a sale item, it’s not for rent. You can return it within 10 days as long as the packaging hasn’t been opened.”

“I know.”

“Okay.” He’s still nodding as he puts it into the bag with the rest of your rentals. 

“Are you always this affected by people buying from the adult section?” you ask mildly. 

“Nah, usually I don’t care,” he replies without thinking. 

“Good to know that you care about my taste in pornography,” you tell him with the most shit eating grin on your face, taking the bag from him. “I’m flattered.”

He makes a clumsy noise in the back of his throat, somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. He’s right back to working at Scoops Ahoy, fumbling every attempt at flirting, losing his cool at the sight of a pretty girl. It’s… humbling.

He’s sure Robin would say that he can always use more humility.

“It was good to see you again, Steve.” And just like that, you’re sand slipping through the cracks in his fingers. 

Desperately, he tries to block the flow, closing his fingers around you in an attempt to keep you in his grasp. “Do you- uh-” He lurches forward, white-knuckling the counter like his life depends on it. You turn back towards him, an eyebrow raised at his sudden outburst. 

You’re back in the school hallway, senior year. Crying over Logan Sawyer. Harrington is up against the wall by the drinking fountain. You want him to just say the words and ask you to prom.

“I mean… if you have the time, while you’re in town… do you want to go for a cup of coffee? With me?”

“Oh, Steve.” You sigh, and it’s the most heartbreaking noise he’s ever heard in his life. Soft sand, falling through his fingers, disappearing back the way you came. He already dreads your answer before it comes. “I wish… you know, if I had come in here and met you about a week ago, I would have said yes in a heartbeat. But I have to catch the train back to Chicago tomorrow. My break’s almost up.” You offer him a reassuring smile. “I’m just glad that you didn’t completely miss me, at least.”

“Right, of course.” Steve smiles back at you, feeling more like an idiot the longer this drags on. He’s like Sisyphus rolling that rock up the fucking hill. “I… I’m glad I got to see you, too. Maybe next time.” 

Oh, it hurts. It hurts way more than you thought it would, to have to turn Steve down- after all the years pining for him through high school, after the time you turned him away when he would have kissed you. You think about kissing him, now. He would let you do it- he’s asking you out, and he looks so sad that you’re saying no.

You could. But wouldn’t it make saying goodbye this time even harder than it already is?

“Yeah. Maybe next time,” you tell him. You don’t want this to hurt more than it does. You truly hope there’s a next time, another year down the line when you run into him over winter break. Maybe you’ll find him at the Radio Shack. 

Steve watches you leave, once again. Fumbling his chance, again. When the door swings shut behind you, Steve bends at the waist and drops his head against the countertop. 

Typical Harrington. Late to the party, miss the girl.

“Well. That was… really painful to listen to.” Robin emerges from behind one of the shelves, crossing her arms. Gently, she adds, “On the bright side, I don’t think the chocolate coin would have mattered.”

Steve picks his head up, and he thwacks his forehead back down onto the counter.

And again.

And again.

And I can see you being my addiction, you can see me as a secret mission. Hide away, and I will start behaving myself…

Sur La Table Restaurant, Chicago, April 1991

You shake your umbrella out as you step into the warm foyer of, quite possibly, the most upscale restaurant you’ve ever set foot in. The carpet is deep, blood red, the walls a dark chestnut wood. The white covered tables are each spotlit within the otherwise dark dining room, and the atmosphere is flavored by soft piano and the quiet din of hushed voices. 

You had been hesitant to accept Theo’s invitation to dinner- he seemed too stuck up for your taste, but when Shelly introduced you to him, you had to admit that the name of the restaurant piqued your interest. Sur La Table. Chicago’s premiere Michelin Star restaurant. 

As you hand your umbrella over to the coat check clerk, you’re greeted by a smiling hostess. “What’s the name for the reservation?”

“Um… Theo Bowman. I believe he’s already here?”

“Yes, ma’am. Right this way.” 

Theo stands as you’re shown to the table. Tall, with dark hair and a wide smile, he reminds you of someone you knew once, but you just can’t seem to place it. Then, when he towers over you to shake your hand, standing far closer than necessary, you’re able to pick it out from the recesses of your mind.

Logan Sawyer.  

“You look nice,” Theo says pleasantly, and you chalk up your initial comparison to nerves, on your part. You don’t often let friends set you up on dates, so you’re a little bit out of your element as it is.

As you go to sit down, you admit, “I was so glad when you picked this place, I’ve always wanted to eat here, since I moved to Chicago.” 

“It’s not the nicest place I’ve been,” Theo shrugs, taking the seat across from you.

Your smile falters, for a second. “Oh, no?” The water has already been brought to the table, you guess while he was waiting for you. You take a long drink.

“Nah, I’ve been to Le Bernardin, in New York. That’s fine dining.” Theo waves his hand at the upscale dining room. “This is… okay.”

“I see.” You lift your menu, hoping that he’ll do the same.

“Yeah, New York is so much nicer than Chicago, in my opinion,” Theo continues, fiddling with his napkin as he talks. “There’s a lot more to do. Have you ever been?”

You hope this is just his nerves talking. “No.” 

Theo keeps talking as you stare at the menu in front of you, at a loss. It’s an a la carte menu, clearly, but extensive and all in french. Salade de poires pochées. Coquilles Saint-Jacques Gratineés. Filet au poivre vert. You’re scrutinizing the fine print of what all the dishes include when your waiter steps up to the table. You know when it happens, because Theo finally stops blathering about New York. 

You break your eyes away from the menu to glance at the server’s waistline, at eye level with you. He wears a crisply pressed suit and tie, his hands clasped in front of his belt. 

“Good evening sir, ma’am,” the server says in a hushed tone, to keep the volume of the dining room down. “Welcome to Sur La Table. I’m Steven, I’ll be serving you this evening. Before we begin, are there any questions about the menu?”

You peer up into the darkness to try to see Steven’s face. He’s standing just outside of the spotlight over the table, only able to be dimly lit from the indirect light reflecting from the tablecloth. Once your eyes adjust, they lock onto a pair of familiar hazel ones.

Oh my fucking god.

It’s got to be fate, or kismet, or some force of nature that keeps bringing you together like this. Steve Harrington’s face hasn’t changed in five years. Maybe he looks just slightly older, a little more filled out in his suit and tie. His hair is a bit shorter at the back but still that same shade of golden brown, neatly groomed and tidy for the formal atmosphere- but you can see it being tousled on his off days, still flopping across his eyes in waves. And those are the same lips you dreamt about kissing, the same eyes you admired in the school hallway, the same nose that you always wanted to grind o-

“No, I think we’re ready to order,” Theo announces, louder than necessary. You throw your gaze at him, your eyebrows raising despite your best efforts to remain calm. 

Is he really going to order for you? Just like that?

“Well, I was going to ask-” you begin, wanting to get a little more specification on how the filet is made, when Theo cuts you off.

“It’s okay, I speak French,” he insists. Not that it makes a difference to what your question was.

You press your lips together in irritation and glance at Steve, who looks back at you stoically. You wonder if he recognizes you like you do him- it’s been long enough, and you’re sure that you look a bit different than you did the last time you saw him. And then you notice the creases around his eyes.

He’s playing it off well enough, sure. But Steve is doing that same look that he did there in the Family Video five years ago, trying to pretend that he’s not affected by you, swallowing back his smile. He sends you a knowing look that says, What a fucking douchebag, am I right?

Suddenly, this date just got way more entertaining. You give Steve a minute roll of your eyes, only enough for him to notice. Tell me about it.

“We’ll start with the Bordeaux,” Theo is already reciting to Steve as you settle back in your seat. Steve pulls a little notepad out of his jacket pocket and begins writing. “For an appetizer, the coquilles. Then for the main, I’ll have the canard montmorency, and she’ll have the mignons de veau.” 

You watch Steve’s hand pause as he’s writing, and he looks to you. He raises his eyebrow, saying everything he needs to with the one gesture. Is that what you really want? “The veal?”

“No,” you say, digging your thumbnail into your palm, where it rests on your lap. “Actually, I wanted to ask about the filet. What brandy is the sauce made with?” 

Steve smiles, leaning a little bit closer to you. “We use Courvoisier.”

“Great. I’ll have that, please.” 

Steve nods encouragingly at you. As he jots down the order, he says, “Wonderful. I’ll get this to the kitchen for you, but before I can bring you the wine, I’ll just need to see the lady’s I.D.”

“Are you serious?” Theo snaps. 

“It’s all right,” you murmur, hiding your face as you dip your head to fish your I.D. out of your clutch. “He’s just doing his job. Right, Steven?”

Steve meets your eye as he takes the card from your hand. “You can never be too careful.” You watch him smirk as he looks over your I.D., his eyes lingering on your name for a second before he hands it back to you. If there was any doubt in his mind that you are who he thought, it’s gone now. “Interesting. We’re the same age.”

You laugh. Probably a little louder than is respectable, but you can’t help it. Leave it to Steve Harrington to remind you of the time you bought porn from him, while you’re on a date. 

You watch Steve write something else on his notepad, and rip the page out before folding it up. He tucks his notepad into his pocket as he says, “I’ll get this started for you. I hope you enjoy your evening.”

“Thank you, Steven,” you offer just as he starts to walk away. 

Steve shoots you a sideways glance. “Always.”

Your heartbeat pounds in your chest as you turn back to your date. Theo looks disgruntled, but he just lifts his water to his lips.

“So,” you begin, “what do you do?”

“Marketing manager,” Theo says, with a click of his tongue. “For Bowman Wine & Spirits.”

“Oh,” you nod. “No relation, I suppose?”

“My father owns the company.”

“Right.” God, help me. 

Across the dining room, Steve watches you over his shoulder. His jaw sets as he sees you, the girl of his literal dreams, sitting across from some idiot who doesn’t even know that you don’t order for your date without asking her what she wants first, you fucking weasel. 

That’s all right. You seem to have the situation under control, for now. Steve watches you calmly sip your water, staring at your date but not listening to a thing he’s saying. 

Steve sighs. He’s never been much of a schemer, but he’ll just make sure that you won’t leave with this guy if you don’t want to.

His fingers brush the note in his pocket, and he pinches it just as he passes the front of house manager, Taryn. Without breaking stride, he slips the note into her hand, heading toward the back hallway and down to the wine cellar.

As Steve passes by, Taryn unfolds the note he slips her, and raises one eyebrow at the request he’s written.

I can see you in your suit and your necktie, pass me a note saying, “Meet me tonight.” Then we kissed and you know I won’t ever tell…

Overall, you enjoy Sur La Table immensely. The restaurant itself, anyways. The wine is wonderful. The atmosphere is great. The food is exquisite. 

You’re about to jump the waiter’s bones. 

Theo got his second wind sometime after the scallops arrived, and you think he hasn’t paused for breath since. You’ve been calmly eating your food, while Theo tells you literally everything about himself. It’s the best case scenario you can see happening on this date. You enjoy the food, mumble a non-committal acknowledgement now and then, and Theo entertains himself with his own voice the rest of the time. 

You’re gonna kill Shelly for setting you up with him, but that’s tomorrow’s problem. 

Right now, you’re focused on finishing your glass of wine while he talks about camping, of all things. 

“So we got up into the Rockies,” he’s telling you, gesturing with his hands like it’ll make you more engaged. “We ended up freezing our keisters off. No joke, I have frostbite scars.”

“That’s, um… that sounds like fun.”

“No, are you listening? I mean, it was terrible. We couldn’t move for, like, two days. And when the snow stopped we were so tired and cold, we almost died.”  

You knock back the rest of your wine with one gulp, and say with a sticky voice, “Wow. A near death experience must have been really scary, I’m sorry.”

Theo frowns. “No- I mean… It wasn’t… it wasn’t near death-”

“You just said-”

“It was more like a serious inconvenience, you know. But we pulled through. I wasn’t scared. A little snow isn’t gonna kill me,” he laughs incredulously. “It was just-”

Theo stops as Steve approaches the table. You catch him giving the back of Theo’s head the most murderous look imaginable before slowing to a stop and plastering an easy customer service smile in its place. “How did you find everything this evening?”

“It was fine.”

“The food was wonderful,” you tell Steve reassuringly. Your date, on the other hand…

“Yeeeah, could we get the check, please?” Theo asks, finally looking up at Steve. 

You watch Steve’s brow twitch, such a small movement you could have imagined it. “Certainly. But first-” from behind his back, he reveals two white gift boxes and places them on the table in front of you and your date, respectively. “We like to give each of our customers a signature chocolate truffle, as a token of our appreciation.”

Everything in you aches. “Oh, that’s nice. Thank you so much.” You look down at the box in adoration, thinking for a second that it might be the only time in your life that Steve Harrington gives you something similar to a ring box. 

“I’ll be sure to have our hostess come through with the check,” Steve adds delicately, making a gracious exit. His finger just slightly brushes your arm as he passes by- a dangerous move, but one that nearly electrifies your entire body at the single touch. You shiver as he says, “Have a lovely night.”

You watch Steve walk away from you, and your heart sinks into your stomach. You want to chase after him. The 18 year old you, who almost kissed him on prom night, is trying to claw its way out of your skin and bolt after him. 

When Steve disappears from view, you have nowhere to look but at your date. Theo opens the white box in front of him and pops a neapolitan colored truffle into his mouth. “Well, that was underwhelming.”

You don’t want to watch him chewing anymore, like a cow gnawing on grass. You sigh, running a frustrated hand across your forehead, and flip open the box in front of you. The top of it rears up like a clam shell, and you freeze, your fingertips suddenly sticking to the sweat beading on your brow.

You don’t have a neapolitan truffle- you have a single golden chocolate coin. You stare at it in shock for a second before you even notice the note pasted to the lid of the box. 

Meet me outside- the door past the bathrooms. 

“Aren’t you gonna eat yours?” Theo asks suddenly, as the hostess approaches holding the check. 

Your eyes snap up just as your heart shoots back up into your chest. “I think I’m gonna save it for later.” You flash him a smile as you close the box swiftly and shove it into your clutch. “Do you mind if I hit the bathroom real quick?”

“No, go ahead. I’ve got it.” Honestly, it’s the kindest thing he’s done for you all night. You might have to thank him some day. 

Once you’re out of your seat, you chase after Steve like a shot. Around a block of tables and into a tiled corridor, you walk past the kitchen doorway just as another server comes backing out, carrying a tray of dishes. 

There’s a door at the end of the hall, labeled exit. You never actually thought you’d be escaping a bad date through the back door; the notion was too clichéed, you thought that sort of thing only happened in movies. But you find yourself nearly running past the men’s and women’s bathrooms, until your hands slam down on the bar of the back door and thrust it open into the wind. 

The rain has picked up, more of a downpour than a light drizzle now. In your haste, you’d left your umbrella and coat with the coat check. Not that it would have been at all discrete if you’d gone to collect it before running towards the bathrooms. 

The door clicks shut behind you, and you gaze around in the dark. The alley behind the restaurant is only partially lit by a yellow street lamp, making it even more difficult to find him than it was in the dining room. “Steve?”  

You catch movement in the corner of your eye, and turn in the direction of the street lamp. Steve stands up from where he’d been sitting on an overturned crate- apparently the only accommodations the restaurant staff gets during a smoke break. The rain has already soaked into his hair, messing up the tidy style and turning it stringy, falling across his forehead, shining gold in the yellow light. He takes one last puff of the cigarette in his mouth before tossing it into the gutter, and he looks at you. 

He sees you. And it’s all you’ve wanted since the day he first walked into your geography class, freshman year of high school. There’s been some kind of a magnetic pull between you two for years. Something keeps bringing you together, it’s just never been the right time. Until now. 

Finally, you’re running towards him, and Steve’s arms finally come around you, pulling you against his body. Your hands find the back of his neck just in time for his lips to crash against yours. 

You had lost count of the amount of times you watched him kiss other girls in the hallway in high school- not just Nancy, but any and every girl he attached himself to (for a while, it seemed like he couldn’t make up his mind who he was dating at any given moment). All you knew was that it was never you, and you wanted it to be so desperately that it consumed your mind half the time. He looked like a good kisser, and you fantasized about going up to him and testing that theory for yourself.

But you never expected that his lips would slide over yours with an urgency that you could feel through to your very core, probably even more desperate for your kiss than you are for his. Steve’s fingertips press into your body through the thin fabric of your dress, holding you firmly to him like he’s afraid you might disappear on him again if he doesn’t absorb you completely. Your mouth opens with a soft gasp, and Steve’s tongue against yours tastes like tobacco. 

It happens so fast that you can’t even think- and you don’t really want to. You’re tired of thinking everything through, finding reasons upon reasons why it’s not a good time, why it’s a bad idea, why it won’t work. He moans into you, grabbing the side of your face as he stumbles with you to the wall, pressing you up against the side of the brick building. 

You meet his moan with a whimper of your own as his hand slides down over the curve of your ass, and he hikes up the skirt of your dress to grab at your skin with abandon. There’s a ferocity in Steve’s kiss that you don’t know what to do with, like he’s trying to stake a claim to you right there in the rain, with no one around to see it happen but the moths in the street light overhead. Not that he needs to- he’s already got you. You already chose him. 

Steve gives you room to breathe with a soft sigh, his forehead resting against yours. “Been wanting to do that since high school,” he admits, just loud enough for you to hear, before pressing a featherlight kiss just beside your mouth, and again to your cheek.

“Y-you fffucking-?” you gasp when he latches his lips around a sweet spot on your neck and sucks. “I had such a huge crush on you, Steve.”

“I know. I- I should have- I should…” Steve drops his head against your shoulder and groans when your nails rake against his scalp. “Fuck.”  

He grinds his hips up against yours, biting your lip as the hard length of his cock presses up against your core. “Gonna fuck me in this alleyway, Harrington?” 

“I’m seriously considering it,” he growls into your ear. His lips find yours again with a passion, his hand holding your jaw still. A hot breath escapes him, pouring over your skin and making you shiver. You’re lightheaded, so close to just letting him do it, too, when the back door of the restaurant swings open. 

Steve still takes a second to pull away, a little too absorbed in kissing you to really care who sees him do it. If he had his way, he’d have everyone see that you’re his- that you belong with him, and have for a long time. He finally glances over his shoulder to see one of the cooks, Liam, walking off in the direction of the employee parking lot.

“Where did you get the fucking doubloon?” you whisper into his ear, sounding so fucking adorable that Steve can’t help the lovesick look he gives you. 

He brushes his nose against yours. “I sent my manager on a treasure hunt.” You giggle, pressing your forehead up against his, and he can’t help but chuckle along with you. “I wanted to give you one at Family Video, that time.”

“I know,” you say, and he pulls back to look at your face. “I heard you yelling at your coworker in the back room.” 

Steve snickers and turns red with embarrassment, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You run your fingers through his rain-soaked hair, a content smile on your face as you feel him grin against your skin and shake with laughter. “Take me home, Steve.”

You don’t have to ask him twice.

What would you do, baby, if you only knew? That I can see you throw your jacket on the floor, I can see you make me want you even more…

The drive to Steve’s apartment downtown is made with light conversation and the heavy, heavy weight of his hand on your thigh, creeping up further with each mile. But aside from the implication of sex hanging in the air, it’s as easy as breathing, chatting about the night with him. Shitting on Theo.

“Did you notice the way he said coquilles,” Steve murmurs to you at a red light. “I thought he was gagging on something. He was just trying to impress you, you know.”

You grunt. Could’ve tried a little harder. “He didn’t even like them. He said he didn’t like shellfish,” you laugh in return as you lace your fingers through Steve’s. “Why the fuck would you order scallops, then?”

“The price.”

“The price.”  

It’s sweet, talking to him all the way to his apartment building, just catching up like old friends. He tells you that he’s going to culinary school now, and he’s been working at the restaurant for a little over a year, just to pay the bills.

“Culinary school? Really?” you say, with a note of awe in your voice. 

“Turns out I’m really fucking good at cooking,” Steve chuckles. “Who’d have thought? Maybe someday I’ll stop waiting tables and work back there in the kitchen.”

“I can see it,” you tell him softly. “I can see you being the world’s best chef. Three stars and everything.”

He scoffs, but a pink blush creeps up the back of his neck. “You have too much faith in me.” 

“Those are fighting words, Harrington.” You wag your finger at him. “Throwing down the gauntlet?”

“You just want me to cook you something,” Steve tuts.

“Absolutely, I do.” You consider him for a moment, in the passing light of a streetlamp. “Am I that transparent?”

Steve tilts his head to eye you meaningfully, and he smirks. “Always have been, honey.” His thumb rubs a little circle on your thigh that has you squirming in your seat.

The first thing you see of Steve’s apartment is the kitchen, and beyond that the dormant living room, but you don’t get that far before you’re sidetracked. Steve throws his keys onto a drop station by the door, and pins you up against the refrigerator before you can even think to ask where to put your shoes.

Your clothes are still damp, your hair still pasted to your clammy skin. Steve’s lips are attacking yours and his hands are grabbing at everything he can touch, but it’s still not enough. He’s not able to feel all of you at once, and it’s driving him insane with every passing moment.

Steve roughly yanks his suit jacket off, throwing it onto the tile floor beside the kitchen island. “Lay down.” 

“What?” you whisper to him as he kisses your neck, guiding you away from the side of the fridge. “Here?” 

“Right here,” Steve states, not joking in the slightest. You wobble on your feet as you kick off your heels, but his hands on your hips keep you steady. “Been waiting too long for this- can’t wait anymore.”

“I- wwhuh-?” you gasp as Steve kneels in front of you, and your knees buckle involuntarily as he lays you down across his discarded jacket. Your hands grab his shoulders as you tumble backward, taking him with you. 

He face-plants into your stomach with a noisy, “Oof.” Cackling, you run your fingers through his damp hair, as he laughs and shoves his blushing face further against your torso. Steve litters your stomach with kisses, giggling against you with a note of nervous energy. He’s adorable.

You pet your fingers down the side of his face and he leans into the touch. “Can’t even wait long enough to take me to the bedroom?”

“Well, I would have fucked you in the alley,” Steve points out as his fingers breach the hem of your skirt and find your panties. He tugs as he says, “Be thankful I even got you home.” 

Your cheeks burn hot. You fidget, trying to press your thighs together to abate the throbbing ache between them. “Careful, baby. You’re starting to sound desperate.”

Steve pauses, his hazel eyes lighting up when they lock on yours. “Call me that again,” he requests, pressing a kiss to your ankle as he pulls your panties off your feet. He tosses them over his shoulder, but you don’t see where they land as he continues peppering kisses down your calf.

You hold his gaze. “Baby?” His eyes flutter, his lips parting as they drag up toward your knee. “You like when I call you that?”

“I like when you call me anything,” Steve admits. “But as long as you call me that, it means I’m yours.”

Your breath stutters in your chest. Steve Harrington is yours. It doesn’t matter if it’s just for tonight- what matters is that you have him now, and he wants you just as badly.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he murmurs quietly against your skin, his voice crackling with brimming need. He’s flushed, his cheeks pink and his hair drying in tousled waves over his forehead the longer he drags this out. 

Nodding your head, you reach down to lace your fingers through his, where they’re bunching your skirt up around your hips. “Yes, Steve.” Always have been.  

He turns his head and sucks a spot on your calf, just below your knee, resting your ankle over his shoulder. Still, despite your desperation, you nervously keep your thighs pinched together.

Steve tuts, “C’mon, baby, you’ve gotta spread your legs for me. You wanna let me see that pretty pussy, right?” 

Still clammy and cold with rain, the air on your exposed skin makes you shiver almost as much as his sweeping hands do when they gently part your thighs. You let go, let him take control as you still and keep your eyes focused on his face, because looking anywhere else would remind you that this is real, and not a dream.

Steve sighs, “There she is. Y’gonna let me taste you, sweetheart?” He bats his pretty eyes at you in a way that makes your heart stop dead in your chest. He can’t keep his mouth off of you, even for a moment, his lips and slight stubble dragging across your skin as he says, “Been wanting to forever, you won’t even believe-”

“Please, Steve,” you start to beg before he even finishes his sentence. “Please, my god, I- I just- I just want you so much-”

“Sh-sh-sh-shh.” His tongue licks wet and hot against your inner thigh before he whispers, “I’ve got you, baby. M’not going anywhere, I’m staying right here ‘til you cum.”

You’re instantly hot all over, your blood fucking boiling beneath your skin and your wet dinner dress. Steve’s fingers dig into the meat of your thighs as he yanks you toward his face, the fabric of his jacket beneath you audibly zipping along the kitchen floor. 

Steve dips his head, and his mouth closes over your cunt right at the same moment that yours falls open with a moan that won’t come out, because you’ve suddenly forgotten how to breathe. The noise stalls right at the beginning- your lungs stop working and you can’t seem to get them to start again, because Steve’s tongue is everywhere, dripping wet and gentle on skin that’s way too sensitive to handle it right now. Your hips try to jerk away from him in resistance, but he slams his hand down on them, holding you hard and still against the tile floor, his shoulders pushed up against the backs of your thighs to keep them open. 

Steve takes a break just long enough to grin evilly up at you, because he’s been waiting for five years to tell you to, “Breathe, sweetheart.”

“Fffffuck,” you manage to spit out finally, your voice cracking on the word like it didn’t even really want to put in the work to make it happen. Your breath comes back into your lungs all at once, rapid firing with a dozen moans for punctuation. Steve’s lips quirk against you, and he rumbles a noise of satisfaction against your pussy that makes you jolt in his hold again. “Steve…”

He pulls off of you with a slow, slow stroke of his tongue over your clit, making you whimper high and tight in your throat. “That’s it, baby,” Steve whispers, his breath fanning across your slick cunt, his left hand leaving your hip so that he can drag his knuckles teasingly through your swollen folds. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Feels so right.”

Two long fingers sink into you with ease, stirring the need in you to have him just simply destroy you. You moan loud, your hand shooting out and wrapping around the leg of a bar stool for the kitchen island beside you. 

“Poor thing’s just so sensitive, huh?” Your head arches backwards against the floor, your pussy clenching tight around his fingers as he curves them with practiced accuracy. Steve’s voice is a deep murmur, distant thunder rolling over your nerves, “Relax for me, honey. You’ve waited long enough, just let it happen. Let me give you what you want.”

His lips shine when you look down at him, your hand reaching to run through his hair. Stifling a whine that threatens to come out when he kisses your clit and bends his fingers within you, you stutter out, “J-just want… I- ha-ah! Just want you.”  

Steve purrs. “I know.” The crisp white fabric of his shirt scrapes against your thighs, almost rough in comparison to his tongue flat on your pussy. You can hear the wet, salacious sound of his fingers pumping into you, pulling you toward the edge of oblivion. He hisses through his teeth, shaking his head slightly. “God, I’m so fuckin’ lucky.”

“Y-you-?” you manage a laugh, scraping your nails along his scalp lightly. “You’re lucky? You have n-no… fffucking idea-” You cut off with a sob when Steve wraps his lips around your clit, sucking long and hard enough that your leg twitches, your heel dragging up the back of his pristine white blouse. Your breathing picks up just as all your muscles lock down tight. “Jesus Christ-”  

“There you go,” Steve praises as your orgasm shakes your body, your hand gripping his hair so hard that he groans softly into your damp skin. He doesn’t stop moving his fingers, lewd wet noises picking up and echoing through the quiet kitchen. “That’s a good girl. Mmm , felt so nice to let go, didn’t it?”

You don’t know if he really wants you to answer that- you’re still twitching, coming down from your high as he pulls his fingers from your spasming cunt and sucks them into his mouth. The pause gives you a gentle reprieve, sinking back onto his suit jacket beneath you. Then, his mouth finds your pussy again, his tongue delving deep into your entrance and laving up to your sensitive clit. 

You gasp, throwing your hands down into his hair. “Steve-?!”

He moans in response. “Just needed to taste you some more, honey. Taste so fuckin’ sweet, I can’t get enough.” Steve relents, crawling up your body to hover his face over yours. “Still wanna see the bedroom?”

You nod excitedly, your hands finding his smiling face and stroking the hair away from his eyes. With a gentle kiss of his wet lips to yours, Steve gathers your still-wrecked body into his arms and carries you into his bedroom. 

He’s struck by how blissful you are as he sets you down on his bed, so soft and inviting. He encourages your arms up, his hands finding the zipper of your wet dress and finally, finally, pulling it over your head so that he can see you. All your curves and edges on display for him, after all this time imagining what he couldn’t see with the naked eye. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Steve repeats what he told you all those years ago at prom- he meant it then, and he means it now. Maybe even more this time, now that he’s not a stupid teenager, now that he finally has his head on his shoulders. 

You shiver against him when he unclips your bra- black lace that matches the underwear sitting in his entryway. A possessive part of him rears up, knowing that you’d worn them to a date with some asshole who couldn’t treat you right, even for one hour of the guy’s miserable life. Steve dips his head and kisses your breast, so much softer now than he was before, feeling your heartbeat against his lips.

“Hey.” You gently tug him by his tie, loosening it and his collar. You look into his eyes, and his heart melts. “Where’d you go just now, sailor?”

Steve blushes, his eyes flicking down as you remove his tie and start unbuttoning his blouse. “Just thinking...” he trails off, eyeing you thoughtfully. “Just thinking I could have missed you again if I wasn’t careful.”

“Mmm,” you hum, your hands smoothing up his chest and over his shoulders to get his shirt off of him. It drops to the floor with a whisper. “I don’t think so. I think this was meant to happen, eventually.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You scrunch your nose cutely, in a way that makes Steve’s pants tighten even more uncomfortably across his hips. “We’ve run into each other too many fuckin’ times, baby. Karma’s on our side.”

He laughs. “Karma.” He shakes his head as he undoes his belt.

You quirk your brow at him as your hands fiddle with the fly of his suit pants. “Don’t believe me?” 

Steve grunts, shifting to lean over you. “I’ll believe anything you say when you’re taking my pants off, honey. I’m easy that way.”

Your nails rake through the hair on his chest- you can’t keep your hands off of him now that they’ve got him. You trace over two blotchy scars, one on either side of his torso that mirror each other. “What happened here?”

He blows a puff of air out of his mouth, rounding his cheeks as he shrugs. “Some… animals decided I looked really tasty, at one point. I know, they aren’t very pretty.”

Steve’s brushing over it like it’s nothing. You search his face, and you decide to do the same. “Actually, I think it’s kind of hot.” You drag your hand up to lay flat over his chest. You whisper conspiratorially, “Plus, I think you look really tasty, too.”

Steve quirks an eyebrow. “Y’gonna bite me about it?”

“Probably.” You wink. “Most likely.”

Your gaze falls indiscreetly to his cock, hard and flushed, glistening with precum and curving up toward his stomach. Girls talk, especially when they’re all trying to one-up each other; you knew that he was big. You’d heard the rumors. You’d seen him wearing those tight fucking jeans all the time, and you didn’t have to have much of an imagination to figure it out.

Still. It’s… a little overwhelming. You reach out a tentative hand, lightly wrapping your fingers around his base. They barely meet. Jesus Christ.

He groans, and kisses you until you can’t speak, resting his weight on top of you until you sink gleefully into the mattress. There’s a smile on your lips that transfers onto his, happiness and ease still flowing between you even as he grinds his hips up against yours. 

“Ready?” Steve murmurs softly into your mouth, stealing your breath when you feel his cock slide through your folds, hot and fat.  

“Dunno,” you tell him teasingly, but there’s an edge of reason to your words. Your hips squirm and you feel him even worse, slippery with your arousal. You whine. “I think you might kill me with that thing, Harrington.”

“I’ll go slow,” he whispers, hoarse in the back of his throat, his voice already shaking. “I’ll make sure you feel every bit of it, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree as you reach to line him up properly. “I’m all yours.”

Steve gives a relieved sigh as he slides into you, his head falling heavily to your shoulder. His cock aches, his torso shaking as he tries to steady himself. “Oh my god.”

“Baby,” you coo, choking on a moan when he bottoms out. He’s so thick- your nails dig into his shoulder blades as you try to remember how to breathe. It’s certainly a big stretch to try to fit him, but you can’t help wanting more just as soon as he comes to a stop. You can feel him trying to hold steady, holding himself back as though it’s the hardest thing in the world for him to do. 

Because it is. You can’t see it, the way that his brow is furrowed in concentration, his eyes screwed shut. He didn’t know it would be like this- that he’d be in danger of blowing it just as soon as he started. 

Your heel digs into his ass, and he doesn’t know if you do it purposefully, but he almost whimpers.  

You take a shuddering breath. “Please- please move, Steve, I can’t take it.”

Oh, you can’t take it? “You know what,” Steve says with a hint of strain in his voice, picking his head up to nuzzle his nose with yours, “I think you like me.”

You snort, and kiss him lightly. “What gave you that impression?”

“Y’so fucking cute.” Steve hums and sloooowly pulls his hips back, dragging his cock through your walls so deliciously that your toes curl. “Could be all those times you stared at me in class-” He watches your face as he pushes forward, until his hips are flush with yours and your head arches backwards against his sheets. “Could be when you nearly let me kiss you at prom-” Out. In. Steve runs his tongue up the length of your throat, and bites at your earlobe. He whispers, “Could be that you came on my tongue ten minutes ago.”

He picks up his pace, just a bit. Just enough to have the bed creaking under you with the rhythm, to have you moaning in tandem with him- needy and high pitched, leaping from your throat into the hot, sex-charged air.  

Steve’s lips latch onto your neck, and he sucks hard. He eases up after just a couple seconds, dragging his tongue over the sensitive spot, but you know what he’s just done- he’s marked you, right where you won’t be able to hide it in the morning. 

You want him to do it all over your body.

Your jaw goes slack and you’re losing all integrity. He’s even better than you imagined- sleepless nights wanting, hoping endlessly that you’d find yourself here, under him, couldn’t have prepared you for how perfect it feels. His hand finds yours and laces your fingers together, pinning it to the mattress beside your head, squeezing with every slow and purposeful thrust of his hips. 

Steve’s cock finds your g-spot like it’s nothing, like he’s known your body for ages. He barely even has to try before you’re whimpering, raking your nails up his back and leaving long red trails behind. 

Your teeth latch onto his shoulder and you bite, probably harder than you should, but you just can’t refuse the urge to mark him the way that he’s left his mark on you. He moans, a deep and boyish sound in your ear, as you drag your tongue along his shoulder, soothing the bite, tasting his sweat. The salt and the sweetness of his skin, mixed with the heady smell of sex in the room, have you losing yourself in him.

“Biter.” You hear him chuckle dangerously, rumbling along your skin while his nose skirts your jawline. 

“You’re so good, Stevie-” you whine, hot pleasure rearing up in you like a tidal wave. “Oh, you feel so fucking good, I love- love how you feel inside me.”

Steve groans loudly into your shoulder, his teeth grazing your collarbone. You think he has a mind to bite you back- maybe he’d do it harder. You can see Steve drawing blood, when the mood suits him. 

But his hand squeezes yours, his other sweeping broadly up your thigh and hitching your leg up further over his hip. “Yeah?” His voice is rough, bordering on a growl, “What’d’ya say we stay like this forever, huh? Just like this?” 

His pelvis grinds up against yours, his pubes crushing against your clit making you gasp. Everything’s wet- your skin, his skin, the sheets. Sweaty bodies sticking and sliding against each other, your hips meeting his in the middle.

“Like this?” you gasp, your head reeling. His forehead presses against yours, and it’s just about the only thing bringing you back into focus. Steve doesn’t falter, keeping the same pace and rhythm while he watches you try to form a coherent reply. “Mm- I- I, hhuh-”

“C’mon, babygirl,” he breathes against your damp skin, “you can do better than that. You love my cock so much, you wanna keep it warm all the time? Wanna stay in bed with me forever, is that it?”

You nod fervently, your hands grabbing at his neck, his hair, his shoulder- anywhere you can touch. “Yes, yes. God, Steve, I- you’re gonna make me cum, shit-”  

“I know it,” Steve murmurs, tugging your lip between his teeth and making you whine again. Your cunt pulses around him, and he hisses, his hand slipping on your thigh. “Love seein’ you all drunk on my cock- shit, you’re so gorgeous like this.” He pauses to kiss you, making you lightheaded, making you tug at his hair. “Y’look so pretty under me, baby. Pussy feels so good, I wanna stay here, too. I can see us doin’ this for the rest of our lives, huh? How’s that sound?” 

How does it sound? You and Steve Harrington, together forever? Intertwined, knotted up with no way to lose each other, no disappearing and then reappearing years down the line?

“S’that a challenge?” you whimper shakily at him. “Throwing down the gauntlet?” 

“I don’t think I could let you go, now,” Steve tells you firmly, his hand leaving your thigh so that he can grab your jaw possessively, his tongue darting out to trace gently across your bottom lip. “I’m never gonna let you go, baby.”

You wrap your legs around his waist. “I don’t want you to.”

“I hope so,” he whispers, his breath mingling with yours.

Steve kisses you long and slow when you cum. You swallow his moans when he does.

What would you? Baby, if you only knew that I can see you, oh, I can see you…

You almost think it’s a dream. When you rouse in the morning, you feel like you imagined it. But you’re surrounded by the scent of Steve, of musky cologne and sweat and sex, and maybe just a little bit of hair gel stuck to his pillows. 

You flop over and stare at the ceiling. You’re alone in a king size bed, fitted with gray sheets and a few too many pillows. The other side of the bed is still warm, but your paramour is nowhere to be found. His bedroom is fairly stark, with a few little things arranged on the dresser top and clothes thrown around the floor. It doesn’t feel like a room he spends much time in, aside from sleeping and dressing in the morning.

You immediately think about what this all means for you. Whether he really meant what he said in the heat of the moment, if he really wants this to be a long-term thing or if it was just pillow talk. It doesn’t take you long to determine which one you want it to be.

There’s commotion on the other side of the closed door. You lean over the side of the bed, searching for something to put on before you just waltz out there naked. Ultimately, you pull on his blouse from last night.

You emerge from the bedroom squinting against the light in the room. The blinds in the living room are open, casting bright sunlight across the room and into the kitchen. You find Steve in front of the stove.

“Hey, there she is!” he announces happily. “Just in time for breakfast.”

Steve looks so comfortable in the kitchen, moving around quickly and efficiently, whereas you tend to blunder about. When you wander over to the island, you notice he’s already picked up his suit jacket, and laid it across the bar stool next to the one you choose. 

Your underwear is nowhere to be seen.

You grin at his back, plopping down onto the bar stool. The metal is cold against your bare ass, nearly making you squeal and jump back up. “Is it a Sex on the Beach?”

He laughs gleefully. “Nah, if only. How was that, by the way?” 

“The ice cream, or the porn?”

He turns to grin at you over his shoulder. “Both.”

He’s wearing glasses. Round wire frames that complement his face perfectly, making him look distinguished in his gray sweats and black t-shirt. Just like that, you’re spiraling. Suddenly, you’re picturing yourself being here, with him cooking breakfast in his glasses and PJ’s every morning, on and on into the future. Doing domestic shit, grocery shopping, dancing around in the kitchen at 3 am, kissing in the rain- well, you’ve already done that one.  

But you can see it. That future, with him by your side, it’s right there. You just don’t know if it’s the one that he wants. You don’t really know how deep this runs for him.

Funny what just an accessory can do to your train of thought.

“Um.” You swallow. What was the question? “The ice cream was great. Still the best sundae I’ve ever had, by the way. The porn was bullshit, I didn’t get through twenty minutes. I just wanted to make you blush.”

“Brat.” He spins around, and plates an omelet right in front of you. You watch his face, tracing the easy smile he wears. “I hope you like it- but if you don’t, you better not say anything. I don’t think I could handle the pain of your rejection.” He looks up at you, hazel eyes shining gold in the sunlight. “You’re staring.”

“I-” you blink at him. You don’t fucking say. You open your mouth to ask- you want to ask what this is, what he feels, did he mean it. Do you want to do this again? Is this serious for you? Because it is for me, if you want it. You just don’t get that far.

“You’ve been staring since we were fourteen,” he chuckles, sliding you a fork. 

That startles you. “Well,” you click your tongue. “I didn’t realize you were looking so closely.”

“Oh,” Steve shrugs, turning to place the pan in the sink. “Just since freshman year. When you read Juliet’s monologue in English class. Remember?”

You tilt your head. Vaguely. It was just a class project, where each person had to choose a Shakespearean monologue to recite in front of the class. You thought he only even became aware of you senior year.

Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name which is no part of thee, Take all myself. 

“Are you telling me,” you say, palms flat on the counter as you peer at him incredulously, “you’ve liked me just as long as I’ve liked you?”

“Told you I’d get there, eventually.”

Your brain refuses to compute. You stare at his back, his tousled hair, and want to yank him toward you and squeeze him like one of those fucking squeaky toys that you get at the pet store. The ones the eyes pop out of.

Steve turns to you with a smirk, leaning across the counter to mirror you. He reaches forward to trace the mark he made on your neck, still tender, while mocking your pout back at you. His eyes crease at the corners, like they always do when he’s trying to be coy.

“Eat your breakfast, baby. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

(I see you, I see you, baby.)

[kitchen-spoon]

Steddie / Spicy six Criminal Minds Au

it’s finally here! Thank you to @knightofthieves for all your help :) 

7.8k words / mature / complete / Steve centric / Steddie endgame / Fluff & comedy with a teeny tiny bit of angst. 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47707927 

[stvolanis]

saw the post about cutesy smut and im thinking like,,, cutesy smut is such a nancy wheeler thing in a coquette way ykwim? im thinking youre both super friendly with each other cause youre practically best friends who are dating each other with tons of quick kisses and soft touches and giggly makeout sessions and really sweet movie cuddles and eating each other out at one of your houses during sleepovers like UGGH 🎀😩

OMG I ABSOLUTELY ADORE THISSS!! I made both reader and Nancy subs in this because I thought that would be a cute idea, hope you don’t mind💕💕

Strawberry kisses

(one-shot)

PAIRINGS: Sub!Nancy Wheeler x Sub!Fem! Reader

WARNINGS: Nancy & reader are basically FWB, foul language, honestly just fluff and cutesy little things

NSFW WARNINGS: cunnilingus, breast play, fingering, making out, praise, scissoring

Nancy Wheeler had to be the prettiest girl you knew.

Her hair, once long, was now short and curly, rested a little above her shoulders. It made her neck look inviting as you watched her click on a necklace with a heart locket on it. The necklace you gifted her about a year ago, a celebratory gift for her 18th birthday. There wasn’t a day after that she didn’t wear it, only removing it when she was going to take a shower or sleep.

You were kids together, girls together, and now you were women together. You’ve been with her for every birthday, every Christmas, and every heartbreak. The most notorious being Steve Harrington; the man you hated since the day you met him. Always an asshole.

You hated him so badly because you knew she deserved better. Someone who could treat her better. Someone like you.

But, nonetheless, you sat and comforted her through it and effectively helped her through the breakup—and only then had she realized just how much she loved you; and not in a friendly way. In a “I want to hold you while we kiss in the rain and then go home and sleep together” kinda way.

She looked beautiful tonight, even in her pajamas she’s had since she was a freshman. Her skin glowing from the moonlight peaking through her blinds, the soft light of her lamps illuminating the room. You sat perched at the head of her bed, watching her with soft eyes as she brushed through her curly hair.

“You look pretty, Nance.” You muttered. She giggled as she looked at you through her mirror. “I’m not even all dressed up.” She smiled. You felt your heart thud against your chest. Your beautiful, beautiful girl.

“Still pretty.” You replied back with a toothy smile. Blush formed across her cheeks as she broke eye contact through the mirror. “Let’s watch a movie.” You huffed out, dragging yourself out of the bed and to her growing collection of comedy movies.

You happily picked up “The Breakfast Club”, a favorite of you and Nancy’s, sliding it into the Tv. Nancy laid down on her bed, gently patting the empty space next to her, an invitation which you took as you slid yourself next to her. Nancy’s hand intertwined with yours and the jewelry on her finger was cold against your skin, but you didn’t mind.

This was how you always dreamed it would be. You and her together, just like this. Content. Happy. She made you happy. You only hoped you did the same for her. You couldn’t think of anything else but her, even as she giggled at the movie on screen, you were focused on her. Always only her.

She was your sun, and you were here moon. Orbiting around her, basking in her golden light. You were in her shadow when it came to social aspects, but it was other people who made you feel that way; never her. She introduced you, always involved you in conversation, always smiled at you to make sure you were okay. The small hand she would rest on your lower back made you feel a sense of peace, knowing she would always be there.

“Are you alright, sweet girl?” She asked as she titled your head up to look at her. You blushed profusely. “Perfect, baby.” You replied with a reassuring smile. You couldn’t help yourself as your lips connected with hers. So soft and plump, it only made you want more.

She giggled into the kiss, making you giggle. Your legs tangled together and your hands roamed her slim body as hers roamed yours. Her manicured nails skimmed across your back, skillfully unclipping your silk bra from under your shirt. She gave a toothy smile as you laid butterfly kisses on her neck; your hands sliding up to cup her cheek softly.

Your knee pressed into her clothed core, and she let out a small whimper when you began rocking her against your knee. Her hands found their way to your breasts, fondling them and gently pinching and pulling your perk nipples, hard from the touch of her hands and sensitive to the touch.

She panted against you when your hand slipped into the waist band of her pajama pants and down her laced underwear. Your finger circled around her clit teasingly, and her hand found it’s way into your panties. You felt so dirty, having her against you like this. The both of your touching each other, the both of your mouths hung agape as soft whines and moans slipped past them.

Two of her fingers slipped into your entrance, and a squelching noise could be heard, making Nancy moan softly. She pumped her slim fingers in you at an even pace, curling her fingers just enough to hit your sensitive spot inside. Each time her fingers rubbed against your g-spot, you felt yourself come closer and closer to your orgasm.

“Need you. Need your pussy, Nance.” You whined against her, she nodded her head. Nancy slipped her fingers from your entrance and your fingers left her bud as she stripped herself of her clothes. You slid your underwear down and took your shirt off.

Nancy laid down as you hovered your core over her face as you came eye level with hers. She was so pretty. A soft pink hue, glistening with her wet slick, and she had a patch of hair just above her pussy. You blew cold air against it, and she whimpered; but regained herself as she gently guided your hips down onto her face.

Her tongue delivered little kitten licks to your opening, slurping up the juices you were leaking. “Mmm, so good, honey.” She groaned against you as she gripped your ass cheek tenderly. You giggled into her pussy before suckling her clit into your mouth. “Such a pretty little cunt f’me, Nance.” You said, releasing her clit with a pop.

She tried to close her legs but you gently held them open with a soft hand. “Don’t be shy, sweetheart.” You said as she bucked her hips upward into your face, making you dive back in and start swirling your tongue on her clit. You felt Nancy’s tongue poke at your entrance, before harshly entering, making you let out a gasp.

Your hand moved up to rub her clit from side to side in a painful pace for your poor wrist, but it had her withering beneath you; her tongue sending vibrations through your gripping cunt. You knew you were close, and your other free hand moved to start fingering her profusely while still harshly rubbing at her throbbing clit.

You could feel her gummy walls gripping around your two fingers beautifully, and you groaned as she sucked them back in each time you left. You curled your fingers into her g-spot, and Nancy squirted all over your fingers with a loud moan against your pussy, yet her lapping at your cunt never let up; if anything, her tongue seemingly sped up.

You forgot the world for a second, how to breathe and even where you where as you reached the orgasm you were on the verge of so vigorously. It was intense, the way your body shook as the feeling in your lower stomach snapped. Nancy held your waist, keeping your pussy still against her face as she let your ride out your orgasm.

Both of you were dripping in juices and her bedroom that usually smelled like strawberry pound cake with a hint of lavender now smelled like sweating bodies and hot sex. As the two of you came down from your high, Nancy gently moved you off of her, gently dragging you up to lay with her.

“Wanna take a bath with me?” She whispered softly as she kissed the side of your head. You hummed in agreement, and got up to go to the restroom. Nancy followed behind you, her soft footsteps echoed down the hall. No one was home but you and her.

Her mother was at the local pool, Mike was with his friends doing god knows what (you both definitely knew what), her dad was out gambling and her little sister was with the babysitter till 11. You didn’t have to hide, or walk on eggshells. The setting almost felt domestic as you watched her start the water, adding a little bit of soap for bubbles the both of you enjoy. Her house smelled of natural, almost woody scent, and her bathroom was no exception.

She submerged herself into the water, and gestured for you to join her with a smile, which you did. The water was warm, almost hot; as that was the way Nancy liked her baths. You’ve complained to her about it before, it’s almost a painful kind of hot but she seemed to enjoy it, so you stopped bothering her about it. Today, she was being considerate of the temperature for you, even going as far as to add your favorite scent into the bath; vanilla.

Her chest was pressed against your back, and your head lulled onto her shoulder as she began to gently massage your body with her lavender body wash. The smell was her, as was everything else. Your senses were consumed with nothing but her, yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to ever even think of complaining about it. The way her pink lofa skimmed over your body, lathering you in soap was the least sexual interaction. Purely out of love and admiration for you.

“I love you, Nancy.” You said as you turned your head, coming into contact with her her pretty blue eyes. She smiled. That smile was enough to make your knees weak, head spinning and heart throbbing in your chest. “I love you too, baby.” She said, delivering the softest peck to your lips.

And you did. You loved her, with every fiber of your being.

don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!!

TAG LIST: @elvisalltheway101 @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf @littlehoneyposts @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @luxuriouslokistan-3 @foxevxid @sapriao @parkbabyj @xiyingly

[steddieasitgoes]

@steddiemas Day 15 Prompt: Spread Holiday Cheer

Tags: Established Relationship, Future Fic, Christmas Fluff, Sending Holiday Cards, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington

wc: 1554 | Rating: G

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

Eddie’s perched on the kitchen counter, two fingers deep in a jar of peanut butter when the front door creaks open and shut. Barefoot patter across the reclaimed wood floor until Steve appears in the doorway. He has a  stack of mail tucked under his arm. An open card clutched between his hands.

“Did Dustin tell us Suzie was pregnant again?” Steve asks. He swats Eddie off the counter as he walks to the corner they’ve designated for unopened mail. Dropping the mail on the stack of overflowing flyers and magazines they’ve yet to get through, he squints at the card in his hands.

“I talked to him yesterday and he didn’t mention anything,” Eddie mumbles, mouth full of peanut butter. “Why?”

“She definitely looks pregnant.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie chastises as he winds the lid of the peanut butter back on the jar. “You can’t assume she’s pregnant just because she looks a little…”

The words fizzle out as he rests his head on Steve’s shoulder. His eyes take in the Christmas card in his hands. Henderson’s are always his favorite. The boy’s always had a thing for dramatics, something that hasn’t waned with age. Or the growing brood of kids he’s acquiring.

This year's card is Star Wars-themed. Dustin dressed as Han and Suzie in Leia’s white costume. Their oldest son is Luke, lightsaber held high. The twins in homemade R2D2 and C-3Po costumes.

The youngest has been painted green, channeling Yoda if Eddie had to guess. And of course, their dog rounds out the eccentric bunch in a homemade Chewbacca costume.

One glance at Suzie’s growing belly, stretching the fabric of Leia’s dress is all it takes for Eddie to confirm Steve’s suspicions. The message at the bottom of the card also helps.

“You really should read these with your glasses on,” Eddie teases, fingers reaching over Steve to tap at the message printed at the bottom. “Says here their “galaxy” is growing in spring.”

“Christ,” Steve says, shaking his head. “He’s building a damn sports team over there.”

Eddie snorts. “More like a D&D group. They’re going to be the Von Trapps of the Dungeons and Dragons world one day.”

With a snort of his own, Steve shakes Eddie off of him and crosses the room to their fridge. It’s not uncommon for the yellowing white door to be flooded with messages and cards, but it’s ten times worse during December. Eddie can barely get into the freezer without a card or two falling, taking their magnets with them.

Still, Steve doesn’t let the cluttered fridge stop him from hanging Dustin’s card up there amongst the rest. Eddie watches as he takes a step back, hands coming to rest on his hips as he admires the holiday spread in front of him.

Dustin’s card sits towards the top, sandwiched between one from the Sinclairs — a back shot of Lucas, Max, and their daughter Ellie hand in hand on a beach in California — and one from the Byers-Hoppers — Hop and Joyce sat in their matching rocking chairs on their porch with dopey smiles on their faces as they look out on their hoard of grandkids.

There’s a card from the Wheeler-Byers, too — a caricature of their family, the boys, and their army of dogs no doubt drawn by Will himself. It sits beside the one from El and Erica, a joint holiday postcard from Italy where they’re studying abroad.

Nancy and Jonathan are the most professional of the bunch — no surprise given Jonathan’s photography skills and Nancy’s perfectionism. The one of Jeff’s kids is one of Eddie’s favorites, the trio screaming on Santa’s lap while Jeff and his wife smile at the camera. A close second is Gareth and Freaks who decided to hit up the local JcPennys for awkward family portraits with their girlfriends.

Robin and Chrissy’s is front and center, the two of them kissing under the mistletoe while their daughter rolls her eyes in the background. Beside it is one from Wayne and Scott, a grainy shot that Steve took himself the last time they visited Hawkins. There’s one from Eden and Argyle from Missouri, which was news to everyone when it arrived.

A handful from Steve’s past students tacked up over each other along with ones from their coworkers. Fleeting faces in their lives, along with permanent fixtures.

In the center of it all is their card from this year. They took it back in July when prices were cheaper and Steve could order them in bulk without breaking the bank. They’re smiling at the camera on the couch in their living room, a silly Santa plush sits between them. Both in godawful ugly sweaters with Santa hats perched on their heads despite the sweltering summer sun peaking in from the bay window.

Maybe he’s biased, but he thinks theirs is his favorite.

Eddie’s pretty sure it’s the best one they’ve ever taken which is why he feels the wind knocked out of him when he spots Steve frowning at it.

“Everything okay, Stevie?”

Steve hums, prying his eyes away from the fridge to look at Eddie. He offers him a soft smile and a curt nod before excusing himself. Eddie’s pretty sure he hears him mumble something about needing to start this week's lesson plan.

Eddie knows it’s a lie — it’s the final week before winter break and Steve never teaches during it — but he doesn’t call him out on it. Instead, he lets his boyfriend slink out of the room. When he’s gone Eddie shifts his attention back to the fridge, eyes squinted as he tries to puzzle out what has Steve so bum hum bug all of a sudden.

He doesn’t get it at first. There’s nothing different about this year's cards than the hoards they’ve received in the past. Everyone who should be up there is up there, smiling wide at what this year has given them. Happy parents and smiling kids, wild pets, and even wilder adventures.

His eyes are making a third pass over the cards when it clicks. Eddie knows Steve’s not disappointed with the way their life has turned out, but it's clear from the cards littering their fridge that something is missing. 

Every card screams family, except theirs.

Well, Eddie thinks, that simply won’t do.

💌 💌 💌💌 💌 💌💌 💌 💌💌 💌 💌💌 💌 💌💌 💌 💌💌 💌 💌💌 💌 💌

It takes three days for Eddie to pull everything together. The minute Steve leaves for work on the fourth day, he gets to work setting everything up. In a matter of hours, their living room gets transformed from a moderate Christmas room to one that belongs in those cheesy movies Steve always has on.

He’s relocated the tree to the middle of the room, decked everything out with garland and twinkling light, and hand-painted the Santa’s workshop sign he stayed up late making last night. After an hour-long call with Jonathan, he manages to get the camera and tripod set up.

Getting their pets dressed takes the longest, but after chasing everyone around and bribing them with a shit ton of treats he gets all 3 dogs, 4 cats, Parrot, snake, and bunny in their respective holiday attire. He’s putting the finishing touches on his own look when he hears the familiar creak of the front door.

“Eds?” Steve calls, voice tinged with curiosity. “What’s going on?”

“We’re taking our Christmas card picture,” Eddie says, appearing around the corner in a red Santa suit.

Steve blinks before slowly looking around the room. The dogs and cats all match in elf costumes. Pierce the Bunny and Ozzy the Parrot are somehow keeping elf hats on their head and Sizzle the Snake has a ribbon wrapped loosely around her body like the world's most delicate Christmas present.

Eddie watches as Steve takes everything in, lips parted in that cute confused look he always gets. Fish out of water, he likes to tease.

“Don’t worry, I have your costume here too,” Eddie says, holding up a matching red Santa suit.

“I’m confused, we already sent our cards out for the year.”

Eddie hums. “We did, but we forgot to include some very important members of our family in the card. Don’t you think our friends deserve to have all our beautiful faces on their fridges?”

“I mean, I guess? It’s going to cost a fortune though this late in the game.”

“Our family is worth it.”

💌 💌 💌💌 💌 💌💌 💌 💌💌 💌 💌💌 💌 💌💌 💌 💌💌 💌 💌💌 💌 💌💌 💌

It costs them an arm and a leg to get the cards printed and sent out in time, but it's worth it to see the smile permanently etched on Steve’s face as he tacks it up on the fridge, replacing their original card.

This time when he steps away there’s nothing but pure happiness on his face.

“I know it’s not the big family you dreamed of,” Eddie says, wrapping his arms around him as he admires the display. “But it’s still pretty great, right?”

“It’s perfect, Eds.”

💌 💌 💌💌 💌 💌💌 💌 💌💌 💌 💌💌 💌 💌💌 💌 💌💌 💌 💌💌 💌 💌

The following year, Dustin’s isn’t the only card with a new face on it. Steve, Eddie, and their army of pets are joined by a pair of timid smiles. A brother-sister duo whom they’ve been fostering since February. If all goes as planned, they’ll be permanent fixtures on the Munson-Harrington card for decades to come. 

[megxplryxb]

Tainted Love

Pairings: Steve x fem!reader

Disclaimer: Gif is not mine.

Warnings: friends to complicated to lovers, jealousy, angst, fluff, smut (a little bit of everything, really)

The smell of alcohol, cigarettes and guys that were wearing far too much aftershave, lingered in the air as you walked through the halls of Steve Harrington’s house. Floors already sticky with spilled beverages and the downstairs bathroom currently being occupied by people who sounded like they were definitely doing more than just making out.

You were late to the party, getting stuck with the evening shift at your new job at a bar downtown, having decided to leave Family Video a few weeks prior. The last thing you wanted to do tonight was party and the last place you really wanted to be was at Steve’s but it was Eddie’s birthday and you couldn’t let your friend down, making you promise not to bail on him when he met you for lunch earlier in the week. Your friends had all noticed the distance you’d put between yourself and them in recent weeks, Eddie questioning you about it more than the rest, not buying your bullshit about being busy all the time. He was right, it was bullshit but at the moment it was better for you not to be around.

Your heart was racing, stomach in knots, as you held on to the bannister making your way up stairs to a vacant bathroom to change in to your outfit for the night ahead, successfully managing to avoid your friends until you looked some bit presentable. Your body immediately tensing as you walked by Steve’s bedroom, flashbacks to the secret night of passion you had shared with him a little over a month ago after a heated argument about his decision to get back together with Nancy Wheeler having spent almost three years apart. You weren’t sure why you were so angry, maybe you should have just pretended to been happy for him but after Nancy broke his heart in the past, leaving you to pick up the pieces, it was hard not to feel a little pissed off.

“Why can’t you just be happy for me?” Steve pleaded as you looked at him in utter disbelief. You'd driven straight to his house after work to confront him when Robin had told you that Steve and Nancy were giving their relationship another go now that she and Jonathan had officially broken up.

“Do you really want me to go there Steve? She broke your fucking heart and I don’t want to watch that happen again.” You defended, arms folded defiantly as he sat on the side of his bed, a hand through his hair, frustrated at your lack of enthusiasm.

“I think It’ll be different this time. We’re older now.” He muttered, not seeming all that certain of his own words.

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” You asked as your friend shot you a hurtful look.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Steve raised an eye brow, standing up to face you while you held your ground.

“You’re not that stupid, Harrington, you know exactly what I mean. Don’t get pissy at me for saying you’re making a huge mistake when you’re not even sure getting back with her is a smart idea.” You stated. Steve's eye widened, an irritated look on his face.

“I never said that!”

“You didn’t have to...” And he didn't. Because you knew him better than anyone, sensing his hesitation a mile away.

“You just never liked Nance that’s what this is about.” Steve huffed, shaking his head, turning away from you as you grabbed his arm, pulling him back to face you.

“No I don’t like her, I’ve never liked her. I hate what she put you through and I hate her for treating you like shit and I think you deserve better than Nancy fucking Wheeler but this isn’t about how I feel, is it Steve? This is about you not being totally sure Nancy is what you really want, because if you were so damn sure that she was the one, you wouldn’t care about anyone else’s opinion!" You fought back, your tone a little more intense than you'd intended but Steve was close now, jaw clenched, frustration building inside of him at your stubbornness to accept his decision.

“I don't fucking care about anyone’s opinion!" He yelled as you rolled your eyes, scoffing slightly.

"Oh really? So why'd I have to hear about it from Robin instead of you?" You challenged.

"Because I knew you'd act this way! Christ, you're my best friend, I should be able to tell you anything!"

"Well I'm sorry for being the only one with enough balls to tell you you're being a fucking idiot, Steve! Go ahead, by all means, go back to playing the perfect happy couple you were three years ago but when it all goes to shit because I know it will, don't come knocking on my door because I'm not going through this with you again!" You cried.

"You're acting like such a fucking brat!" Steve stated as you pushed past him, not wanting to argue with him anymore.

"Bite me, Harrington." You spat, opening his bedroom door to leave, having it immediately shut by Steve again, finding yourself trapped between his strong arms.

"You're driving me fucking crazy!" He breathed, face so close to yours you could feel his breath on your skin.

"Then let me go!" You argued, trying to push his arms away from the door as you locked eyes with him. "Is that what you really want? Cause I don't think it is." He whispered, removing one hand from the door to lift your chin.

"Steve..." You whimpered pathetically, feeling a sudden ache between your legs as he licked his lips, smirking at the change in your demeanour. The feeling of anger between you being replaced by something far more intense.

"What do you want, huh? Tell me?" He begged, his own pants tightening, watching you bite on your bottom lip nervously.

"Please sweetheart, I need to hear it."

"I want you."

"What do want from me?" He whispered in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine as he gazed at you, lust filling his eyes that you'd never seen before. You paused for a brief moment, contemplating how to respond to your best friend, knowing the dangerous line you were about to cross. It's not as if you hadn't thought about Steve in a sexual way before, fuck, you'd be lying if you said you hadn't gotten yourself off thinking about him a couple of times before. He was fucking gorgeous after all and you were only human. You knew it was a bad idea, knew what the repercussions would be but it was hard to care with the way Steve was looking at you, pushing his body against yours as his erection pressed in to your stomach.

Fuck it.

"I want you to fuck me." You declared with such confidence and assertion that you swore you heard a growl escape Steve's throat before his lips crashed on to yours.

It was an embrace full of passion, anger, frustration and urgency as Steve pushed you against the door, grabbing your hands, placing them over your head as he devoured your lips and neck. Biting at your exposed skin, carelessly leaving marks as you moaned in both pain and pure bliss, tugging at Steve's hair, letting him know you wanted more.

"Holy shit." He muttered in to your neck.

The weight of his body against yours felt so right, your movements so in sync, as if you'd done this a million times before but this feeling was so new, so addictive already and he wasn’t even inside of you yet. Clothes being torn off backs, falling to the floor, buttons being undone, belts unbuckled, gasping for air in between wet kisses, afraid the other would disappear if you separated for too long. Once you were down to your bra and panties, you felt Steve's hands grab the meat of your ass, pulling you closer to to him, lifting you with ease, instructing you to wrap your legs around his back as he carried you to his bed. He pushed you in to the mattress, falling on top of you, tossing your underwear over his shoulder, kissing you again, leaning his forehead on yours as he settled himself between your legs. Reaching over to the drawer in his night stand, shuffling a little before finding the square plastic foil, ripping it open with his mouth, glancing at you for permission before he took the condom from the wrapper.

“Are- fuck, are you sure this is…are you sure you want to do this?” He asked his voice husky with desire as he looked down at you, watching your fingers sneak between the band of his boxers, pulling them down, to spring his cock free. You couldn’t help but slightly giggle at your friend, ever the perfect gentleman.

“Steve…please, just fuck me.” You begged, cupping his face gently as he happily nodded, sliding the condom on to his hard cock. Finally, entering you, his dick filling you up with such force that you dug your nails in to his back. It certainly wasn’t your first time having sex, but with how big Steve was, it definitely felt like it was.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He groaned, throwing his head back with the sheer pleasure he was receiving from being inside you.

The night was a mixture of raw sex and gentle love making. It was slow and romantic, it was fast and fiery and it wasn’t until you woke up naked in Steve’s arms the next morning, legs still tangled, that you remembered what had led you to end up in his bed in the first place.

Nancy Wheeler.

You felt a wave of guilt wash over you, looking at Steve who was still fast asleep, marks on his back and neck, condoms on his bedside table and your clothes scattered in every part of the room. You slid out of his grasp, although somewhat unwillingly, trying to find pieces of your clothing, praying you hadn’t left anything behind, quietly leaving Steve’s room once you were satisfied you had enough on to make your escape with whatever dignity you had left.

Once you got back to your car, realisation hit that not only had you fucked your best friend for the first time but you had fucked your best friend while he was in a relationship.

That was the last time you had been in Steve’s house. It was also the last time you had spoken to Steve, feeling too embarrassed to be around him after what happened between you and the fact that he remained with Nancy after you slept together, told you it hadn’t meant anything to him and that hurt more than you ever wanted it to. So, you found a new job, worked your notice and left without saying goodbye to him, swearing Robin to secrecy about your departure until you were gone.

Now here you were, weeks later, standing in front of a bathroom mirror, applying your make up and throwing your new dress on across from the room he had fucked you senseless in weeks prior because although you weren’t ready to see him, a little part of you wanted to show Steve Harrington exactly what he had been missing.

The walls were vibrating from the sound of loud music as you walked back down the stairs. The smell of weed instantly hitting you as you reached the bottom step, making you dizzy. It was Eddie’s birthday after all, most of his friends were total stoners, so it didn’t necessarily surprise you when the scent hit your nostrils. Your stomach filled with nervous butterflies as you approached the kitchen, hearing Robin and Eddie’s voices before you could see them, pushing your way through the crowd of people to get to the birthday boy.

“There’s my girl!” Eddie squealed with excitement, running towards you, picking you up with ease and tossing you over his shoulder, spinning you around. You were certain people could see straight up with your dress with the way he was handling you.

“Eddie, put me down!” You giggled as he conceded, hugging you tightly, handing you a drink.

“Sorry, I’m just so happy you made it. I, for sure thought you were gonna ditch me.” He teased.

“I’m a woman of my word, Munson. I told you I’d be here, besides someone has to be your wing woman now that Robin’s all loved up with Vickie.” You joked, making him laugh out loud.

“Honestly, I’m really glad you’re here.” He confessed, wrapping himself around you again. “Happy Birthday, you beautiful man.”

“Thank you pretty lady.” He said, kissing your cheek, arm still draped around your shoulder as Robin ran towards you, squeezing you tight. "Oh my god, you're finally hereeee!" She slurred, leaning her head on your shoulder.

"I sure am, you feeling ok Robs?" You asked, rubbing her head. "Think I'm a little bit drunk." She frowned as Eddie handed her a water.

"Just a little?" You chuckled as she stuck her tongue out, slurping down the water. "Where's Vickie?" You questioned as she rolled her eyes, huffing. "Babysitting her bratty little cousins."

"Aww, do you miss her?" You teased. "N-Not as much as I m-miss you in work, sucks since you left. Steve's been in s-such a shitty mood lately." She revealed as you shifted uncomfortably, not going unnoticed by Eddie.

"I miss you too." You confessed.

"HEY DINGUS LOOK WHO'S HERE!" Robin yelled, almost deafening you as Steve emerged from the living room with Nancy by his side, eyes widening, immediately locking with yours.

"Hey, stranger." He smiled, unsure whether to embrace you or not. Nancy, making his decision for him as she intertwined her fingers with his, keeping him in place, barely looking at you.

"Hey." You smiled back, taking a sip of your drink.

"How've you, uh been?" He asked, your fingers pulling your hair behind your ear. "Yeah, I've been good. You?"

"Yeah, me too-"

"Oh god I'm gonna puke!" Robin gawked, putting a hand over her mouth, running towards the bathroom. You'd never been more thankful for how lousy Robin was at handling her drink, giving you a reason to bail on the awkward conversation with Steve. "I better go, hold her hair." You said, turning on your heels, following your friend to the toilet.

An hour had passed and you'd finally managed to convince Robin to crash in one of the upstairs bedrooms, clearly having drank way too much. Once you had made sure she was comfortable, placing a bucket beside her, you made your way back down to join the party again.

"She ok?" Steve muttered, leaning against the living room door frame, as if he was waiting for you.

"Yeah, she's fine. Unconscious in your spare room, I hope that's alright?"

"Of course it is, like you even have to ask." He reassured, eyes never leaving yours as a silence fell between you again.

"Hey, do you think we could-" Steve began to speak, being interrupted by Nancy, who wrapped herself around him. Steve clearly annoyed by her presence as you walked away to get another drink. Your heart hurt seeing them together, finding it hard to breathe with the pain in your chest mixed with anger and guilt. Nancy was his girlfriend, not you. She’d done nothing wrong. It was you who had fucked her boyfriend, so why did it feel like he was betraying you?

"So you and Harrington huh? When did that happen?" Eddie whispered, sneaking up behind you, almost causing you to spill your drink.

"Fuck, Eddie. You scared the shit out of me." You said, lightly shoving him away as he laughed.

"Don't try change the subject, beautiful. Tell me whats going on?" He pleaded, no force in his voice, just concern.

"Are you high?" You quizzed as he shook his head. "Nope, not even a little. So don't try telling me I'm seeing things cause I cut could the tension between you two with a knife."

"I don't know what you're talking about." You said, refusing to meet his glance, instead downing your drink and grabbing another.

"No? Cause he's been looking at you like a love sick puppy since you walked in to this place, hasn't been able to keep his pretty brown eyes off of you." He grinned as you shook your head. "Yeah, sure." You scoffed sarcastically.

"So how long have you been sleepin' with him?" He quizzed as you shot him a look that said, shut up and be quiet.

"I'm not sleeping with him!" You asserted as he gave you an unconvinced look. Eddie wasn’t stupid and you were a shitty liar. You sighed heavily in defeat, knowing he didn't believe you. "Christ, ok, yes, I slept with him. But it only happened once- weeks ago and it meant nothing, it was a total mistake." You explained as Eddie placed a hand over his mouth, hanging on to your every word.

"Shit, so that's why you left the video store. Does anyone else know?" He questioned.

"Nope."

"Was he back with Wheeler when it happened?"

"Yep." You said, guilt hitting you again.

"You naughty girl! Was he good? How big was he?" He laughed as you pushed him away playfully.

"It's not funny Eddie, I feel like a fucking slut." You admitted, hands covering your face.

"Hey, why are you being so hard on yourself? We all know he doesn't love her, you're the girl he's supposed to be with. Everyone knows that." Eddie stated as you laughed hysterically.

"Yeah, right. Steve doesn't feel that way."

"Want me to prove it?" He smirked, an evil grin on his face.

"How?" You challenged.

"m'gonna kiss you obviously." He shrugged.

"You're joking right?"

"Hey, it's my birthday! You can't say no to me on my birthday! Actually, that sounds creepy, I would never force you to kiss me but come on, let me prove my point!" He pouted as you laughed at his puppy dog eyes, giving in to his request as he smirked excitedly, trying to think of the perfect opportunity.

A half an hour later, everyone gathered around the kitchen to sing "Happy Birthday" to Eddie as Gareth and Jeff presented him with a stack of "special brownies" candles stuck in the baked goods. Eddie wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close as Steve watched you from the other side of the room.

"Get ready pretty lady, he's gonna freak the fuck out and don't forget to make it convincing." Eddie whispered, before blowing out his candles, turning in such a way that he could see Steve's reaction.

"Happy birthday you idiot." You muttered, as he cupped your face, lips pressing lightly against your own as you wrapped an arm around his neck. Whistles and cat calls echoing all around the room as Eddie slid his tongue in to your mouth. His eyes opening a little to see Steve gritting his teeth, staring straight at you, looking like he was about to blow a fuse. You broke the kiss as Eddie howled with excitement as his friends cheered him on, watching Steve down the last of his beer, a hurt expression on his face as he walked off leaving Nancy confused and alone. "Told ya." Eddie winked as you continued to celebrate with your friend, trying to keep your mind off of Steve.

A little while later, you decided to check in on Robin, noticing she hadn't reappeared at the party. Seeing she was still fast asleep, snoring her brains out in the same position you had left her in, you shut the door again, leaving her in peace.

"Screw you Steve!" Nancy shouted, emerging from Steve's room, visibly upset and angry as she stomped back downstairs, slamming the front door. You bit your lip, knowing you should have returned to the party but your legs were already walking towards his bedroom, knocking on his door as he sat on his bed, hands holding his head.

"Nance, I told you to- oh, sorry, I thought-"

"It's ok, it's just me." You interrupted, shutting the door behind you.

"Just you." He muttered. "Munson not with you?" He questioned, a little hint of bitterness in his voice.

"No, why would he be? I came up to check on Robin." You explained but you knew he wasn't even listening. "Steve, are you ok?" You asked as he shrugged.

"Well, m'pretty sure Nancy hates me, not that I blame her or anything and the girl I thought has been my best friend since we were little kids has been acting like a complete stranger around me for the better part of a month, so yeah m'doing fucking great." He said sarcastically as you lowered your head.

"Steve...I-"

"Did I really mean so little to you that you just left without saying goodbye?" He asked as you frowned.

"It wasn't like that." You assured.

"Which time, exactly? The time you quit the video store without telling me or the time we slept together and you bailed before I even woke up?" He questioned as your cheeks began to flush. You weren't sure if either of you was ever going to bring that up but Steve had just thrown it out on the table without warning.

"What do you want me to say?" You asked, seeing the pain in his eyes.

"I want you to tell me what's going on with you? I want you tell me why you're running away from me-" He said, standing up to meet your gaze.

"m'not running away from you."

"Then why does it feel like I'm losing you?" He breathed, cupping your face as you rested your hands on his arms.

"m'not yours to lose, Steve." You whispered, as his hands fell back to his sides.

"So, you're Munson's girl now?" Steve asked as you shrugged your shoulders. "That was just Eddie being an idiot. You should go after Nancy, she looked really upset?" You said changing the subject Steve letting out a sarcastic laugh, sitting back down on the bed again. "m'the last person she wants to see right now."

"What happened?" You said, taking a seat beside him.

"She asked some questions that she didn't really like the answers to." Steve sighed heavily.

"What kind of questions?" You swallowed as he shrugged.

"I guess, she noticed that I hadn't exactly been myself the last couple of weeks since you got a new job, then she said she saw the look on my face when Eddie kissed you earlier and then she asked me if I had feelings for you..."

"You obviously told her no, right?" You assumed as he shook his head.

"Not exactly."

"Why not?" You asked, your stomach in knots again.

"Cause it would've been a lie." He admitted as you locked eyes with him.

"Oh."

"Oh? That's all you have to say?"

"Steve, you don't know what you're saying. I'm sure Nancy-" You stood up, being interrupted by your friend "This isn't about Nancy and you know it! This is about me and you and how we feel about each other. It was over between me and Nancy the minute I kissed you!"

"But it wasn't over was it, Steve? Cause you stayed with her even after you fucked me!" You shouted, pushing him away from you.

"Because you fucking left me!" He yelled, grabbing you but not hurting you, pain in his eyes as you began to cry. "I was ready to tell Nancy it was over the night we slept together because I finally knew what I wanted! Then I wake up the next morning and you're not there, I go to work and you're fucking gone!"

"I was scared Steve!"

"Of what?"

"Of you, waking up and realising what happened between us was a mistake! I wasn't ready for you to pick her over me. I couldn't stand the thought of working with you, knowing that I would have to listen to you talk about her, see you with her- so, I slipped out of your bed and gave my notice to Keith because what I felt for you had gone way past friendship and it fucking terrified me!" You admitted, tears streaming down your face. Steve immediately moving to comfort you but again you shoved him back. "No! Don't touch me!" You cried, as Steve grabbed your arms, trying your best to fight out of his grip but he was too strong. Easily overpowering you, backing you in to the wall trying to calm you down.

"Baby, stop! Stop pushing me away, please." He begged, cupping your face, pleading with you to look at him.

"Why, Steve?"

"Because I'm falling in love with you, that's why!" He confessed as you froze.

"If you want to carry on pretending you don't feel the same about me then go ahead, go back downstairs and make out with Munson some more or you can finally be honest with yourself and stop running from me. Cause I know exactly what I want now and it's you. It's always been you and it's always going to be you and yeah it's scary, believe me I'm scared too but I'm here and I'm all in on this, on us. So, it's your choice, what's it gonna be?" Steve asked, walking towards his door, opening it for you to make your decision.

You chewed on your lip, slowly walking towards the door, Steve keeping his eyes on the ground, knowing the risk he had just taken by giving you an ultimatum. You held the door knob, standing in the doorway as Steve hung his head, waiting for you to walk out on him for the third time in several weeks. Your heart was pounding, lips tugged to one side as all the scenarios rushed through your mind at once. What if it didn’t work? What if it was a mistake? What if you lost him for good? There were so many questions you didn’t know the answers to but what you did know for certain was that you loved the boy in front of you with all of your heart and right now, that’s all that really mattered.

"You better not break my damn heart, Steve Harrington, because I'm so fucking in love with you." You whispered, not even managing to close the door before Steve had lifted you off of the ground, crashing his lips on to yours as you wrapped your arms around him tightly, never wanting to let him go.

"Man, I love it when a plan comes together!" Eddie squealed excitedly, peeking in to Steve's room, seeing you in a passionate embrace. "So who's the better kisser?" Eddie teased, running once he noticed the glare on Steve's face before you broke in to fits of laughter, closing the door to pick up where you had left off.