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#steve absolutely was in love with nancy. but she was never in love with him. she was in lust with him lmao and then ditched him funky times
stevieschrodinger · 2 days
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Everyone is stoned. Just. So stoned. Eddie brought over the good stuff. The TV's been stuck on static for like, forty minutes, but no one can be bothered to move.
"You shut up Steven, you've practically dated everyone in the room."
"Robs. Robs. We never. Not even prac-ti-cly."
"Yeap, yeap, you asked me-"
Steve huffs, "we were drugged and in a bathroom, and doesn't count. Said no."
"But I nearly said yes. So you've nearly dated everyone," Robin tells him confidently.
Steve's vaguely aware of either Nancy or Eddie making a noise at that revelation, but he's not looking at where they're lying on the floor, so he doesn't know which of them it was.
And for a split second, Steve's back there. Drugged, confused, sitting in a bathroom and absolutely certain that he's in love with Robin, "you never told me that."
She shrugs, she shrugs like it's nothing, like she hasn't just turned Steve upside down a little bit, "I only figured it for a second, but I thought, if there was someone I could...fake it with. It would be you."
And there's just so many things she's not saying there. That don't need to be said. About the world and why she would consider that. Too many things for Steve to process. And Steve's crying, he doesn't even know why really, just big feelings that he can't define. A life they nearly had that would have been a lie, but still a forever with Robin. He's got a lapful of Rob now, and he holds her so tight, so so tight. And he knows Eddie is there, rubbing his back, and Nancy is doing the same for Robin.
And he kind of thinks that things do just work out.
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stveharringtn · 2 days
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Steve angst Steve angst Steve angst!!! Maybe set after the "you're bullshit" and his first instinct is to go to your place and talk about it bc he needs comfort but then he slips ans accidentally says he's not even in love with Nancy but ut seems like it was his best try so far of getting over this person he's desperately in love with (the reader ofc, we're perfect lol) het gows on a rant of how no one will love him bc he's shitty and the reader is dumbfounded bc like wdym shitty, this cutie pie? How dare he speak about himself like that
‘ANGST ANGST ANGST’ we all cheer. i LOVE this idea and will never get tired of it. thank you for requesting! i apologize for it taking so long and i hope i do it justice! w; mentions of st*ncy timeline.
steve sits on the ground with you, back against your bed. his stupid glasses had been thrown onto your bed when he had stepped inside.
one arm rests on his knee, his other resting next to your body.
your head was leaned back against the soft blankets that covered your bed. “you okay?”
he lifts his brows, shrugging. “i’m fine… i just-” he stops, rubbing his lips together.
you frown, hand resting on his as you grip softly. his eyes are quick to look down at your soft hand. “it’s okay to talk about what you’re feeling, steve… i won’t judge you.”
the boy was one to always hold his emotions in - a sign of weakness is what he believed it to be.
“i’m not sad,” your brows pinches together. “i’m not even angry.”
“what? she said she-”
“it’s better if she said it rather than me.” he blurts, lips forming into a straight line.
you blink slowly, tilting your head. “what does… what does that exactly mean?”
“i, uh, this might not sound exactly… right, but i wasn’t exactly in love with nance. yeah, maybe for a small moment i believed i was?” he shakes his head. “i don’t know. it’s confusing. all i know is that i… did it so i could get over someone else, because there is absolutely no way they love me back the same way and-”
“steve, woah. slow down,” you laugh softly, hand sliding up his arm. “breathe. and to think someone wouldn’t love you is silly. anyone who doesn’t love you is a fool.”
“do you love me?”
you short circuit momentarily, staring at the boy who had come to you for comfort.
“i…” you pause. “how?”
“love me… or love me.”
you look away quickly. “i love you.” you nod.
“really?” he breathes out. “i wasted all that time dating someone when i could’ve just asked you?”
you smile softly, peeking up at him. “there’s time to make up for it.”
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stevie-petey · 3 days
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HIHIHIHII can i please request a blurb where bug jon steve and nancy have a sleepover or having fun together? and maybe the kids can be included?
I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND UR WORK UGH MAKES ME WANNA CRY 😭🎀
of course ! n thank you for the compliment omg
enjoy <3
"dude, what if jonathan had become your brother or something?" mike asks dustin with disgust in his voice as he watches you and jonathan help arrange the picnic blanket. nancy helps steve with the platters of food you had so carefully prepared. it's the first day of spring and youd been adamant that you, all the teens, and the party have a small picnic in the park to get some fresh air.
"dude!" dustin hits his shoulder, entirely unamused. "dont remind me about that, it was a close call."
"at least he isnt dating your sister now." mike groans.
max slides next to him on the park bench. "who is dating who again?"
"nancy is with jonathan and y/n has some weird thing with steve going on." lucas explains, but even he doesnt quite understand a lot of it still, and he frowns. "although, for a while there we thought jonathan and y/n would get married while nancy was with steve."
"they were not going to get married." dustin shrieks, absolutely horrified by that idea.
"im confused." now max is the one that frowns. "so jonathan and y/n werent dating?"
"yes." dustin and mike say, while lucas and will say, "no."
"that wasnt an answer." el points out, slightly confused yet content to listen to the conversation.
maxs frown deepens, now completely confused about the relationships between all the teens. "none of you are helping."
suddenly you appear, steve following close behind, and you flick dustins ear. "if you guys are done gossiping about our love lives, im about to lay the cake out."
"ow!" your brother rubs his now sore ear. "whyd you flick me?"
"you were the closest." you shrug at him before glancing at max. "and to answer your question: no, i never dated jonathan."
"allegedly," steve whispers, winking at the kids, which causes them to laugh. when you turn to glare at him, he quickly shuts his mouth and gulps. "sorry?"
you roll your eyes at him and point towards the cake still in his car. "grab the dessert before i throw something at you."
"yes maam," he sighs, ducking his head down as he hurries over to the car to retrieve the cake.
the kids laugh again, this time at steves expense, and nancy and jonathan now join. when notice the laughter, nancy looks around and tries to understand what shes missed. "did something happen?"
dustin opens his mouth, but you quickly cover it in fear of what he may say. "nope, nothing. now, lets all just grab our food-"
a scream, followed by a thud of two bodies colliding, interrupts you.
everyone turns towards the source of the sound and find steve and jonathan, covered in cake, sprawled on the ground.
immediately the kids lose their minds laughing, dustin practically falls off of the bench as he hunches over in laughter. meanwhile, you and nancy rush over to the teens in concern yet slight amusement.
you stand over steve and jonathan, a smirk on your face. they look so fucking pathetic covered in cake. "now, boys. what did your mothers say about playing with your food?"
"not funny," jonathan grumbles, wiping cream out of his eyes before angrily pointing at steve. "someone decided to trip over a tree branch and take the other down with him."
"was it you?" nancy asks innocently, a glint in her eyes. you giggle at her quip while jonathan closes his eyes and sighs.
steve gives everyone a thumbs up, though its hard to tell due to his finger covered in a thick layer of cake. he sees this, thinks for a moment, and then brings his thumb to his mouth. "mmm, not bad, y/n. this a new recipe?"
you and nancy groan in unison while the kids all look at one another in varying states of disbelief. mike looks disappointed, dustin is ashamed, el is still giggling, and lucas just puts his face in his hands.
"seriously, im expected to believe that y/n saw something in those two?" max says out loud to no one in particular.
"nancy, too." mike sighs, now even more disappointed.
dustin drops his head down onto the picnic table and sighs as well. "i dont wanna talk about it."
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ultralightpoe · 3 months
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Full House - Eddie Munson
Authors Note: Wow. I think I went too far with these, lmao.
Word Count: 5,258
Warnings: Dad!Eddie. That's it.
Description: Stepdad!Eddie and his girls that gives nothing but Uncle Jesse Vibes.
Part ll HERE
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(Thank you for the gif @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal )
Enjoy!
(Eddie is not the step dad, he is the dad that stepped up)
Eddie Munson was many things in life. 
Triple senior, Satanic Freak, Dungeon Master, High School Graduate, Vecna survivor, Waynes son, and now Mechanic shop owner. But his favorite title came by accident, a truly brilliant accident of course. 
Nancy and Steve had planned a vacation for themselves, the first vacation they had since the birth of their adorable son Edward…..okay they named their kid Vince but Eddie thought that name was ugly and had spent the past 5 years continuously mocking them over it. So, in everything Eddie, he had named him Edward Jr. this week. 
Anyways, Nancy and Steve were having a very lovely trip at Niagara Falls while the rest of the group watched little man. While Eddie was at work Joyce Byers took him, and when Eddie had gigs Dustin took him and they ‘studied’ together which meant Dustin used him as an excuse to play games rather than study for his senior year. 
It was all going splendidly, until Eddie got a call in the middle of his work shift telling him that he would have to go down to the school immediately since Edward Jr -Vincent, had gotten into a little bit of a fight. 
So Eddie booked it, still in his greased out mechanic suit, a bandana on his head and the biggest concern that Steve’s kid would be kicked out of his school while he was away. What had he done to the kids? Had he broken their noses? Made them bleed?
Here was the problem, Eddie forgot that he was talking about Steve Harrington's kid, so when he arrived at the school to see his nephew bleeding and whimpering he realized the mistake. Vinny had gotten beat up, not the other way. 
“What happened, bud? Who did this to you?” Eddie was gonna fuck a kid up, he was gonna scalp someones son. He was going to absolutely annihilate some random ass boy. 
His nephew whimpers, using the back of his hand to wipe away a fresh tear as Eddie takes a gentle hand to assess the damage. “L/n….” 
Eddie was gonna kill this L/n punk. “What’d he do? He been bullying you?”
“You must be Mr. Harrington.” A saccharine voice fills the air, drawing his attention up to an older woman with narrowed eyes. 
“No, I’m Vinny’s uncle actually. Eddie Munson.” He introduces himself, holding out a hand which the woman glares at, and he realizes then that he was still covered in grease. So he pulls his hand back, embarrassed and nervous. “Sorry about that, rushed from work-”
“Never mind that. Let’s go.” The teacher nods her head. “You too Vincent.”
Eddie, now partially annoyed by the use of his nephews full name in such a tone, grabs his hand into his own and follows the old bat into the office where two more three more figures sit. The sight before him makes him stop, blinking slowly as a heat crosses his skin. 
Was he blushing? Shit, he was. 
Sat in the chair is the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, with a small baby in her lap and a small girl softly crying sitting on the edge of the chair, hiding half her face in the womans shoulder. 
“Have a seat Mr. Minson.” The old bat snaps, moving around the desk to sit in the cushioned chair. 
“Munson.” Eddie corrects, sitting in the chair beside yours while trying to keep it cool. Vinny takes the arm of the chair, holding onto some of the fabric of Eddie’s jumpsuit tightly. The woman blatantly ignores him as she shuffles around some of the papers on her desk. So Eddie turns to you slowly, holding out his hand again. “Eddie Munson.”
“Y/n L/n.” You smile, taking his hand in your own. “I am so sorry about your son-”
“I prefer the parents not to talk until I explain.” Old bat snaps out making Eddie sit up straighter. “I brought you both in here because it seems that Motley has violently assaulted Vinn-”
“ASSAULTED?! They are 5!” You snap out as the girl, Motley, begins crying which leads the little baby in your lap to start crying as well. And right on cue Vinny himself starts crying. 
“Woah woah woah.” Eddie starts, pulling his nephew closer. “Bud, why don’t you explain what happened here?”
“She hit me!”
“He pushed me!”
“And then she bit me!”
“He pulled my hair!”
“Okay, ease it up.” You sigh, rubbing Motley’s back in soothing circles. “I am so sorry about your son, and I will totally get if you’re upset but they are 5 and I don’t really know about the assault word-”
“Miss. L/n.” Old bat interrupts but Eddie shakes his head. He will just handle this just as Nancy liked to parent. 
“What can make this better, huh Vinny? Like your dad always says, an apology?”
“Y-yeah….” Vinny whimpers which makes Eddie smile and imitate the whimper voice. “Yeah?”
“Do you think you can apologize, Motley?” You ask and Motley sticks out her tongue to Vinny.  Eddie tries to hold in his laugh at this, the little metal head was not backing down. “Motley.”
“Fine. I’m sorry Vincent.” She snaps out. “But the next time you pull my hair-”
“I think we got it.” Eddie laughs, picking his nephew up. “Let’s go get some ice cream and forget all about it.”
He smiles at the principal before tearing out of the room, keeping Vinny held above the ground as he rushes out of the school. He is rushing too fast to hear you calling behind him, until they make it out of the school. 
“Wait! Sir-” He turns, blushing wildly as he attempts a smile. You smile back, still holding the little baby in your arms and Motleys hand. “I am so sorry about all of that. Motley has been a bit…. Aggressive since her dad left. How about we all go get ice cream and it’ll be on me today?”
And then Eddie, as terrible as it is, gets excited. That meant your single, single and very pretty. So he smiles. “Sounds metal to me.”
The giggle that escaped Motley makes him happy. 
Soon enough Eddie found his entire world wrapped around his three ladies. You, the little 5 year old named Motley and the little baby Ziggy. (Both named after rock music. You don’t like it then name em something else.) 
His life did an entire tilt and he found himself going from the freak to being ‘Daddy Eddie’ as his girls liked to call him. 
“Lemme get the straight.” Eddie starts, holding up one finger and leaning back as he takes in the scene before him, Motley covered head to toe in flour and smiling from ear to ear. “The bag of flour just happened to knock down from the shelf and fall on you?”
“Yup.” The girl nods, still smiling. 
“And you don’t know how the step stool got there?”
“It was there when I walked by.” She shrugs. 
“I see. And you didn’t know that we hid the cookies on that shelf?”
“You do?!” She feigns shock, bringing both hands up to slap her cheeks. “What a coincidently.”
“Yeahhhhh. What a coincidently.” He imitates, bringing his own hands up to slap his cheeks in shock, trying very hard not to laugh at this entire thing. From her covered in flour, or her grammar and especially not the innocent act. Do not laugh. Do not laugh.
  “Motley! What did you do?!” You cry, coming into the kitchen in the pajama shorts Eddie loved so much, to see your daughter covered in your flour. 
You had both been in bed…..snuggling….. When you heard the sound of bowls falling. 
“I am innocent!” Motley cries, waving her hands like she truly could not believe you would think it was her. 
“She’s innocent!” Eddie follows, doing the same as her. “Tell her you want a lawyer, Mot.”
“Motley, do not-”
“I want a lawn mower!” She snaps out before you could warn her away from it. The room falls silent for a second after her words slip out and both you and Eddie try to control yourselves, but before you know it you are cracking up. 
Tears springing from your eyes as you cackle, Eddie finds himself using one arm to lean against the wall as his other arm holds his ribs, pained to be laughing so hard. 
“What’s so funny?” Motley asks, a puff of flour blowing out as she giggles herself which just sends you and Eddie into yet another laughing fit.  “Mama! Daddy Eddie!” 
“What Mot?” You laugh, swiping the tears from your eyes. 
“You’re being mean!” “Aww, we’re sorry Motty.” Eddie coos, moving closer as you do as well. Before she knows it you are both launching to hug and kiss at her, covering both of you with flour as she giggles and screams to escape. 
Eddie steals her another cookie before you take her to the bathroom to shower her off, you both lay with her to read for bed before you lead him back to your room, taking a shower together before going to bed yourselves. 
Eddie was completely at peace, laying on the couch after a long day at work, with Ziggy laying on his chest slobbering all over his shirt. Motley laid on his legs, her head shoved between his hip and the couch as she snored away. 
They were sick, and you were in the kitchen making some chicken soup. Eddie had been in charge of getting them showered and ready for dinner, the only problem was the steam from the shower had cleared their noses which meant about 10 minutes of getting them both to blow into a tissue. And by the time that was done all their energy was gone, so he led them to the couch to lay with them and try to ease their whimpers. 
They passed out soon after and he was trapped in a pile of heat from their fevers and their slobbering snores. But he was at ease right here, their warmth making him just as tired. One hand rubbing Ziggy’s back while making sure she didn’t roll off his chest while the other hand slowly rubbed Motley's scalp. 
Before he knew it he slowly began falling asleep himself, and by the time he woke up he felt your fingers rubbing his forehead very very softly, a small smile playing on your lips. 
“Do you want me to grab them?” You whisper, which makes him shake his head. 
“Let em sleep, they don’t feel good.” He whispers back, turning bleary eyes to Ziggy who was currently crawling her way up his chest, she whimpers and whines until she is able to put her mouth around his nose. The gums touch his skin as she sucks on his nose, and he laughs slowly. “Apparently she is teething too.”
“I’ll go grab her ice pack.” You laugh, moving to the kitchen to grab it as Motley wakes up. 
“Daddy…. I hurt.” She whines and he nods, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the couch to give her room to get up, she does and quickly crawls until her head is in his lap. 
“You want some soup? Huh pretty girl? Maybe we can listen to Elvis before bed.” He offers, watching a small smile break out on her face that she tries to hide. Eddie teases her by leaning to see it and laughing when she covers her mouth. Then he pulls out the big guns, taking up the Elvis voice as he stares at her. “Let’s go eat some soup sweetie pie.”
“Hunka hunka burning love!” She giggles, jumping up to dash to the kitchen, when she passes you she nearly knocks you over but you manage to lean out of the way just in time. 
“What’s the rush?”
“Promised her Elvis after dinner.” Elvis was the king of rock, which albeit wasn’t the rock that Eddie liked, but Motley had grown overly obsessed with him lately and he was cool with that. Anything his girl wanted. 
Blurb song inspo hereeeee . 
The opening of King Creole began, Motley stood on yours and Eddie's bed wearing his sunglasses and his leather jacket. She held a ukulele he had found from a garage sale, and thought it was the perfect size for her to play guitar. 
Ziggy stood on the ground, using his nightstand to help herself stand as she swung her butt up and down to the music. 
Eddie stood by the bed, with his guitar in both hands as Elvis Presley's song blasted through the speaker, wearing his newer leather jacket and a random pair of shades he found on the dresser that he was sure belonged to you.  Motley giggles loudly as Eddie sings the lyrics, playing his guitar to it as Motley pretends to play guitar as well. 
You were at the store and Eddie was supposed to be practicing for his gig coming up, and when you left he had Ziggy set up in her little play crib before Motley came in with the leather jacket on. One thing led to another and they all were playing along. 
“There’s a man in New Orleans who plays rock n roll!” Eddie sings, leaning in at the same time Motley does so their noses press together and then leaning back as she does and shimmying their shoulders. 
They sing and scream, dancing along as you pull back into the driveway. When you come in to get his help to carry in the groceries you are surprised by the loud music, even more surprised by the Elvis playing with the Metal twist to it. 
“Eds?” You call from the door, watching both him and your daughter shimmy their butts to you as they sing before you lean and stop the music which makes them both twist quickly to find you. 
“MAMA!” Motley cries, excitement crossing her face as she whips his glasses off, dropping the ukelele on the bed and launching into your arms. “Daddy Eddie was teaching me guitar!”
“I see that.” You laugh, keeping a hold of her as you lean to kiss Eddie, laughing when you see him in a pair of overly feminine glasses. “Nice look baby.”
“I thought they were very metal.” He laughs, kissing your lips softly, holding your jaw before Motley groans out a ‘ewwwww’.
“Did you like the music?” You laugh, looking down at her. “Even Daddy’s guitar.”
“He made the song better!” She laughs before you set her down. 
“Go get ready. We are having Vinny and his parents over.” At your words she groans, rolling her eyes which makes Eddie laugh out and reach a ringed hand to pull one of her pigtails lightly. 
“What’s with the attitude, pretty girl? Your rock n’ roll career is already getting to you?” He laughs, leaning to kiss her cheek before sliding off his jacket, moving to pick Ziggy up and make his way down the hall as his baby girl giggles happily. 
“I hateeeee Vinny.” Motley groans, following behind and snatching the chain that hangs from his pants to slow him down. “Daddy Eddie, pweaseeee.”
“Ohhhh, not the puppy eyes!” He whines, looking up to the ceiling. 
“No!” You call, covering her eyes. “Not this time.”
Eddie sat on the floor of the living room with his back to the couch, water dripping from his hair onto his exposed chest as Motley sat behind him taking a brush through his hair over and over. He wore a towel around his hips, keeping him covered waist down but all his tattoos exposed as rubbed lotion on them, allowing Motley to have fun playing makeover with his hair. 
You sat near him, your feet in his lap as you read through a book you have promised yourself you would finish for months now.. Ziggy played with her toy blocks near as well, babbling along to the movie that played on the tv. 
Nights like this were perfect, no hustle and bustle and he got to spend time with his favorite girls. 
He rubbed some lotion on the bat tattoos, not really paying attention to what was happening around him only to be interrupted by a sharp gasp falling from your lips. Instantly he is sitting up grunting a bit when the brush Motley was holding puls his hair. 
“What? What’s wrong?” “Ziggy is-” But he already sees her, wobbling as she tries to stand without using anything to help her, blabbering quickly. Excitement courses through him as he sits up, Motley giggling behind him. 
It takes her a moment but she stands, turning to you and Eddie with a tiny smile. “Come here. Come of Stardust.”
Eddie coos gently and Ziggy wobbles, moving to take a step before landing on her butt. 
“It’s okay. It’s okay baby. Try again.” You coo, reaching your arms out. Ziggy giggles and picks herself up again, and once again she tries to take a step. Then, still giggling, she walks. 
Clumsy and heavy, she takes step after step until she falls into Eddie’s arms while everyone coos around her. 
“Da-Ed-ay.” She giggles and Eddie’s heart stops. Oh my god. 
“Did she just….” He gasps out as you tear up beside him. 
“Mix your name and daddy as her first word. Indeed she did.” You laugh, moving forward to kiss his cheek as he pulls Ziggy in to kiss her face all over.  
“THAT’S MY GIRL!”
Eddie was beginning to get a little pissed off, his body thrumming with it as he watches his girls very closely. He keeps a firm hold on the neck of his guitar to fight the urge to punch someone in the face. 
That someone was Gareth. 
His band hadn’t had much exposure to kids, he knew this. The closest any of them had been to a kid was Jeff’s sister and she was only 2 years younger than her brother. So when Eddie had introduced his girls to them they hadn’t really known what to do. But he assumed they would get used to it by now. 
But his friends hadn’t. In Fact they did nothing but complain when Eddie showed up to band rehearsal with Ziggy on his arm and Motley's hand held within his own. She twisted his rings around, smiling from ear to ear when they walked up to the boys. 
Motley had been worried and had taken far too long to pick an outfit since she wanted to look as cool as Daddy Eddie and his friends. She ended up choosing the Hellfire shirt Dustin had made for her 6th birthday and his older jacket, she even let him braid her hair. And when they walked up she gave them a well rehearsed devil look, even sticking her tongue out just like Eddie does whenever she is throwing a fit. 
The only problem was Gareth and Paul both groaned outwardly, Jeff was the only one that seemed to try and smile, shaking his hand in an awkward wave. Eddie, now irritated and tense simply explains “Y/n had to go and help Nancy with something, I offered to take the angels.”
“Of course you did.” Paul scoffs, turning to grab a beer from the fridge with Gareth and Jeff in tow. Eddie bends down so he was level with Motley, rubbing her arm. 
“Don’t take those geeks to heart, yeah? They’re just nervous. You scare them.” He smiles which makes her smile. 
“It’s okay Daddy Eddie. Papa never liked when I bothered him either. We’ll stay out of the way.” She shrugs, kissing his cheek and taking her chalk set to the sidewalk before he places Ziggy on the couch. 
The papa comment unnerved him and he was already defensive. He didn’t like that they were in a situation that they could remotely compare to their deadbeat dad. It made him sad. 
They start practicing, but soon enough Motley is running up and dancing around in the garage as they play. “PLAY TIFFANY!” 
“Whose that?” Jeff asks, covered in sweat. 
“Please tell me it’s not that teenager that sings ‘I think we’re-’” Just as Gareth starts groaning, Motley begins singing and dancing to it. 
‘Ithinkwe’realonenow. There doesn’t seem to be anyone around!”
“Stop stop stop!” Paul snaps. “This is band practice. You can’t just-”
“I think we should play it.” Jeff smiles. “You have the tape Eddie?”
Of course he had the tape, it was Motley's favorite song at the moment. So, with a deep sigh since he already knew he would get shit for it he pulls the tape from his pocket, holding it in the air between two fingers. 
Gareth sighs, snatching it from him and taking it to the stereo system. 
An hour later and many snide comments, Eddie was about to lose it.  Motley had, at some point, gotten a little upset and chose to sit on the couch with Ziggy who was beginning to get whiny and sad. She hadn’t napped all day and Eddie knew it was time to call it a day before he punched one of his friends. 
“I think I’m gonna get the little ones home.” He mumbles, grabbing the tape from the speaker and putting it in the case as he looks over to where his girls were. Ziggy had her pre-cry face on and Motley was half asleep in the cushions. Eddie shuddered at the thought of how many times Gareth had sex on that thing. 
“Next time don’t bring the rugrats and we can practice actual music.” Gareth scoffs and that tight string in Eddie finally snapped. He pushes closer to his friend, getting in his face as one hand snatches itself in his shirt tightly and in a threatening way, his other hand holding the tape up to his friend's face. 
“THIS IS MUSIC!” He screams, eyes wild before he shoves his friend back and takes a deep breath, turning to where his daughters sit. “Come on, pretty babies. Let’s go make dinner.”
He scoops Ziggy up, then Motley, casting one more glare to his friends before walking off. 
“I cannot believe they would be such assholes. To MY nieces.” Steve scoffs, hands on his hips as he stands next to Eddie. Tonight was the school recital, so both of them were dressed up to attend. 
Steve had dressed himself in a button up with a nice sweater, making sure to match Nancy who was carrying their 3rd kid, the blue of the dress making her light up. Meanwhile Eddie chose a button up with his leather jacket, or well Motley had demanded he wear the leather jacket because it was a part of the look. 
 You, as per usual, looked truly stunning. He made sure to keep a hand on your hip or the small of your back to make sure everyone knew you were with him, that’s right. Eddie the freak munson had the hottest woman around and two of the prettiest and most talented daughters in the world. 
“That’s what I’m saying!” Eddie sighs. “Talking to my girls like that?”
“They are just jackasses who can’t even play guitar.” Steve scoffs once more, looking past Eddie to check the door. “Ah, there they are. DUSTIN! ERICA!”
Dustin spots them, smiling as he holds Erica’s hand and shuffles closer to them. “Is Mike coming?”
“No. He has a date to make El jealous.” Nancy laughs. 
“Where is El tonight?”
“Going out with Max.” Nancy explains, and Eddie feels you tense under his hand. He casts you a quick look to make sure you’re okay, watching Ziggy lay her head on your chest as she plays with your necklace. 
“You good?” 
“Yup.” Your answer is clipped, and Ziggy lifts her head up to copy you with a ‘yupyup.’
“Where’s Lucas?” Steve asks Erica, leaning to kiss her forehead. 
“He had an away game. Asked us to film it.”
“Then asked me to stop dating his sister.” Dustin laughs which makes Steve and Eddie break out in their own fit of laughter. 
“Da-Ed-ay.” Ziggy giggles, reaching for him so he grabs her quickly, kissing her lips to make her happy. 
“I’m sorry? Did she just mix daddy and Eddie?” Steve gasps and Eddie shrugs. 
“I’m telling ya, my girls are geniuses.” He smiles, leading you into the auditorium so watch Motley's recital. 
He sits with Ziggy on his lap, holding your hand tightly in his own as Steve pulls out a camera and squats in the aisle to film everything. 
Motley and Vinny come up to do their dance, the audience laughing loudly when Motley steps on Vinnys foot after he tries to trip her. They both blush, Vinny takes a bow and Motley holds up a rock sign, which makes Eddie cheer loudly and stand up to yell for her. 
Song Inspo for this blurb hereeeeee 
“Aruba, Jamaica, ooo I wanna take her.” Eddie sings, holding Ziggy on his shoulders easily as he dances with you. The Hawaiian shirt you picked out for him is light on his skin as the sun beats down on you both, the sweat from the day sticking to him. 
This was the fourth of July celebration, everyone in the group met at the beach to enjoy the day…… which meant Steve had shown up at 4 am to save the spot. Eddie had already applied sunscreen onto Motley and Ziggy twice, you had done it three times and you both were still scared that the girls would burn. 
You had gotten Ziggy the cutest toddler beach outfit, that included a purple swimsuit; hat; and sunglasses. And his baby girl looked absolutely rocking. 
Then Motley got her very own swimsuit, inspired by her favorite artist of the time Tiffany, and Eddie (who had been practicing braiding hair for weeks, your scalp was sore.) had put her hair into two pleats that she had proudly shown to her Aunt Robin who had spent the next 30 minutes complimenting her favorite niece. 
“Daddy Eddie! Come swim!” She yells out, running up to him. “Puh-lease!”
Now here was the problem, Eddie hated showing his abdomen in front of his friends. It was easy for Steve, who liked to say the scarring was Tom Cruise's amount of cool. Eddie however had never shown them how disgusting his scars were. 
“Daddy daddy daddy.” She calls, jumping up and down as Vinny dashes past to get to Dustin. “We’re gonna play chicken and I need my daddy.”
“Maybe Uncle Lucas can help you.” He mumbles, squatting down with Ziggy still on his shoulders, the toddler pulling at his hair sharply as she blubbers. 
“I don’t want Uncle Lucas. I want my daddy! Only you can help me!” She cries, grabbing his arms. His heart melts, and he tries to smile. 
“Okay pretty girl. Let me get Ziggy settled.” He sighs and she lights up, dashing to go tell Vinny as Eddie moves to hand you Ziggy. 
“I’m gonna help El set out the food. Be careful.” You mumble, leaning to kiss his lips before moving to the table as Ziggy waves over your shoulder. Eddie takes his shirt off, rubbing his abdomen in worry as he makes his way to the water where Motley now stood. 
“See?! My daddy has cool ass scars because he’s awesome and he’s gonna kick your slimy little ass.” Motley brags to Dustin, who stares at her with wide eyes that make Eddie laugh. 
“Language, pretty girl.”
“Sorry.” She blushes, turning back to Dustin. “My daddy has sick scars and he’s gonna beat your toothless ass.”
“Woah.”
And suddenly Eddie felt a little better about his scars, smiling from ear to ear as he lifted Motley up, dashing into the water to help her win a game of chicken.
Thanksgiving was spent at yours and Eddies house, after hours in the kitchen and a quick fit from Motley you had fully prepped the table. 
Now everyone sat around it, trying not to laugh as Dustin tries to convince you to eat the mac n cheese he made, practically shoving the spoon in your mouth. 
“No! I eat that and I die!” You laugh, slapping the spoon away. 
“Who would take care of the kids?” Jonathan gasps in fake astonishment. “Me right?”
“You’d only get the kids if Lucas died.” You shrug which makes Lucas smile in triumph.
“I knew it-”
“And you only get my girls if Erica dies.” Eddie interrupts. “And that’s if Dustin is dead.”
A laugh tears from your throat as Dustin claps, but you’re quick to stop him. “And that’s if Steve is dead.”
“And if Steve has them then Nancy is dead.” Eddie laughs. 
“Who has to die for me to get them?!” Mike asks, face red and puffy. El laughs and Max rolls her eyes. 
“Let me guess, if Nancy has them then I am dead?” Max scoffs, and you go a bit tense. 
“Well in this entire hypothesis that means I am dead, so that’s a bit mean.” Eddie giggles. “Because if my girl is dead then they go to me.”
“No they wouldn’t.” Max laughs, which makes the table go a little quiet. “They’d go to their dad.”
“What?” Eddie asks as Motley giggles out a “PAPA!”
He turns to you, eyes wide. “That true?”
“Technically yes.” You mumble out, looking extremely guilty. “But only because-”
Eddie doesn’t want to hear anymore, he slams his silverware down and storms down the hall, slamming the door loudly. 
“Y/n, I’m so sorry-” Max starts, only to have you glare at her and move to grab Ziggy. 
It had been a week since Eddie talked to you, he slept on the couch and only talked to the girls. The only communication he had with you was through the girls, and that was it. 
He made them pancakes, and took them to school and daycare. 
Right now he sat in Ziggys nursery as he tried to get her ready for the day, her only in a diaper as he sat in front of her. 
“Aw, come on. Gimme a smile, little baby.” He coos, wiggling his shoulders. “It’s such a cute dress and you know you want to wear it. Huh?”
“No, Da-Ed-ay.” She giggles. “Wuv yu.”
“Aww. I wuv yu too.” He laughs. “In fact I love you THIS MUCH!”
He opens his arms out wide which makes her giggle. “How much do you love me?”
“Dis Muck.” She giggles, opening her own arms wide. 
“Our arms are open, we gotta hug.” He laughs, pulling her in quickly which makes her scream and giggle, pushing him away as he kisses her stomach over and over. 
“PAPA IS HERE!” Motley screams from the living room which makes Eddie whip his head around to the door that had been closed. 
What? “MOMMY! MOMMY MOMMY! IT’S PAPA!” 
Eddie stands up quickly, Ziggy in his arms as he swings the door open, meeting your shocked face as you come up the stairs. 
“Did she say-?” He starts.
“I’m hoping not.” But as you are saying it there is a knock on the front door. So Eddie makes his way to the living room with Ziggy in his arms as you run to catch Motley before she answers the door. 
Choosing to do it yourself, Eddie watches with his heart in his stomach as the door swings open and he is met with-
No.Fucking. Way.
Part ll HERE
(Would y'all want a part 2? If you send in requests for blurbs or scenarios of Eddie and the girls I will 100% write them. Send em in.)
Taglist:: (let me know if you want to be removed)
@localemofreak @paradise-summertime @jenniquinn @eddiesxangel
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afewproblems · 1 year
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I think Steve needs a secret creative hobby that he springs on the group, surprising everyone.
Sometimes, it can be a little depressing to believe that everyone you love sees you as this one guy, this dumb jock. Intellectually, he knows that the kids and Robin, Nance, and Eddie don't think he's stupid, but that doesn't make the feeling go away.
What if his mom had put him in a ballroom dancing class when he was younger? From age 7 to 12, he took dancing through an independent studio with the other rich kids. It started with ballroom, which continued into swing-dancing. He loved it.
And Steve was good.
He was fluid and graceful, an absolute natural the instructor would remark to his mother when she would come to pick him up. In fact, they were picking kids to participate in the upcoming tournament for the youth category, and Steve was a perfect candidate, the instructor said.
That was until his dad made the executive decision to pull Steve out and force him into sports after catching Steve dancing with his mom in the kitchen. Watching his son twirling around with Susan Harrington, a small indulgent smile on her face, was the final straw for Richard.
"No son of mine is going to prance around like that, like a little fairy," he snarled as he dragged Steve away from the kitchen, his firm white-knuckle grip holding Steve's small arm as they made their way up the stairs to his room.
Steve tried not to make a sound as he covered his ears to the yelling match taking place in room below him.
Steve ended up in little league the next day.
Steve still practiced though, on his own.
It wasn't as though he hadn't made friends in that class, kids who kept on with it.
He missed it, he missed them. He missed how he felt when dancing.
It was freeing.
Carla Neilson taught him the new steps, things she continued to learn while Steve played baseball, basketball, and eventually made the swim team in highschool.
Swimming would probably be the closest he would get to that feeling of gliding along the floor, that grace and fluidity never really leaving him.
He had been a decent player at one time because of his quick feet, but that was before Billy Hargrove rolled into town. Steve never quite learned how to plant his feet because dancing always kept him moving, Hargrove seemed to enjoy pointing out how truly 'fairy-like' he was as he made his way across the court. Those words, the same words his father had hissed at him, all those years ago left him cold and hurt.
He stops dancing after that.
It's not until years later, after Vecna, after Billy dies and his Father disowns him, after he kisses Eddie for the first time and he finally feels like he can breath again that the group finds out.
It's at a party. Everyone of age is a little tipsy or faded at this point in the evening and playing a question game, the kids roll their eyes at their older friends antics and stick to the Nintendo across the living room of Steve and Eddie's apartment.
The question of, 'What is your hidden talent,' comes up and everyone takes their turn.
Robin recites the alphabet backwards, not blinking or pausing the entire way which everyone applauds for once she's finished.
Nancy does a quick handstand and takes three steps backward before dropping her legs back to the ground, she curtsies with a sly smile and laughs as she sits next to Robin again who is staring at Nancy like shes never seen her before.
Eddie thinks for a moment before lifting his hand to his mouth and blows out an impressively loud whistle that prompts Mike to tell them all off for being loud.
Jonathan blows a giant smoke ring while Argyle moonwalks around the living room, earning the pair of them a chorus of woops and applause.
Everyone turns to Steve once Argyle drops back to his seat next to Jonathan, "Alright brochacho you're up man," he says with a hazy smile.
Steve thinks for a moment, looking around at everyone, all of these people who love him, and makes a decision.
"Uh, yeah okay, I've got one," he says slowly before standing up from the loveseat he's sharing with Eddie, "but I'll need a volunteer and some music".
"Oh my God," Robin stage whispers to Nancy, "is he going to do magic right now? Steven Harrington can you do magic??"
Steve snorts and rolls his eyes, "I think I found my volunteer," he holds out his hand for Robin to take as Eddie stands up to turn on their second-hand record player they got from Uncle Wayne as a house warming.
"Uh, one of mine Eds," Steve says with a slight shake to his voice, "something with a beat".
"Oh shit," Robin chokes out as Steve tugs her close. She nearly stumbles, but his arms hold her up.
Eddie smirks like it's a challenge and pulls out Whitney Houston, earning a smile from Jonathan and a small, 'really?' from Nancy.
Argyle laughs, "Heck Yeah man, Whitney rocks dude, turn that shit up!"
Steve smiles and takes a deep breath, his heart is racing but he doesn't care in this moment, he looks at Eddie who is grinning at him, a slightly curious look on his face.
And it's like riding a bike, he leads Robin across the small space twirling and dipping her as she squeals and tries to follow.
Steve probably could have picked a slightly less clumsy volunteer, but he loves Robin and showing her, showing them all, this part of himself after hiding it for so long just means the world to him.
He keeps his own feet fast, keeping the beat but moving Robin where she needs to be as they glide over the carpet, he spins her out and then back into his arms as the song ends, they are both breathing heavily by the time the last note rings out and Robin can't contain her hands from smacking into Steve's chest as she yells, "Who the fuck are you! Dingus how could you hide this!"
Steve blushes as Eddie comes up behind him to hook his head over his shoulder as his arms come up to wrap around Steve's waist.
"Fancy footwork dude," Argyle says nodding at Jonathan who is looking at Steve with fascination.
"When did you learn to dance?" Nancy asks, her voice soft and kind, as though she knows exactly how big this is for him.
"I will accept the fact that you did not pick me to dance just now if I can be your partner next time," Eddie says into Steve's ear, letting his teeth graze the lobe slightly making Steve shiver and laugh.
El and Max refuse to let him sit down for the rest of the night, insisting that he do that spinning move with each of them until all of the kids demand a turn.
Even Mike.
And he loves them all, happy to have finally shared this piece of himself with all of them. His heart is full.
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wheatnoodle · 1 year
Text
robin is using everything in her power to find steve a boyfriend. now that she had finally gotten her head out of her ass to see that nancy didn’t find her rambling annoying, but charming and that got comfy in their new relationship, she wanted nothing more than the same for her best friend.
for too long, robin has stood back and watched as steve got used and played again and again. too many men and women coming around and flashing him pretty smiles and saying all the right things just to take him on a date, get him to drop his pants, and then he’d never hear from them again. she sees the way it effects him, the way he seems to be deteriorating right before her eyes.
he’s given up flirting with the babes that walk in the front door of their job, choosing to stay behind the counter. he leans on his fist, flips through a magazine and only glances up to say hello.
unless, of course, that customer is eddie munson. eddie, who will come in so quiet and lean down in steve’s space to break him from his trance. and steve will smile. and he’ll blush. and he’ll giggle and look away so eddie can’t see how flustered he is. and he waves the late fees every time. and she continues to watch.
robin is using everything in her power to get steve eddie as a boyfriend. sweet eddie who holds the door for steve and makes him smile brighter than robin has ever seen.
and it’s this reason that she was able to convince steve to join her and nancy at a bar in indy and invite eddie along so he “doesn’t third wheel”. meaning it’s also this reason she’s currently tearing apart steve’s closet for the perfect “date me!” outfit. because if he pulls up to this place in a polo and robin’s the one who brought him? she could never go back.
“robs, i can’t wear these.” steve is bright red in the face as he looks over his shoulder in the mirror. she got him in the tightest jeans he owns, the denim light and hugging every single curve from the waist down. he’s lucky he can even breathe in them. he hates how his butt is on display and there’s no room in his crotch to move comfortably and what if his knees get cold where they’re exposed to the outside elements?
“you absolutely can and you absolutely will. turn around and let me pretend you’re a girl so i can drool over your ass,” robin whistles from her place on his bed. she’s surrounded by piles of clothes, a multicolored avalanche of preppy and she just might go insane. “now you need a shirt.”
“i don’t get why you’re putting in all this effort. i’m just gonna embarrass myself in front of him. especially if i try to make a move,” steve grumbles and tugs his current sweatshirt over his head. robin’s got a pair of scissors from his bedside drawer and a clearly well-loved pink floyd t-shirt in hand. “what are you doing?”
“how much do you love this shirt?”
“robin don’t you-“
“how much, steven.” her gaze is firm and he knows it best to just give in. he rolls his eyes and shakes his head with a huff and robin smiles back at him in victory. he’s turned back to the mirror, listening to the sound of slicing fabric behind him.
she tosses it to him once she’s done and he pulls it over his head. dear god his waist is on display. and the trail of hair down to- oh this is humiliating. “robin.”
“steve!” she squeals, clapping her hands together.
“robin,” he whines, throwing his head back and tugging at the jagged edge of the shirt.
“steve!” she answers in the same tone with a bright smile. “you’re so hot! eddie is going to eat you up and if he doesn’t, then somebody else absolutely will.”
“you think so?” steve looks at her through the mirror. a soft smile tugs at the corners of his lips and she can’t help but smile back, full of love and warmth.
“i know so.”
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crappymixtape · 2 months
Text
because of you • part two
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PART I • PART III • PART VI • PART V // REQUEST -> @sattlersquarry ❝ an enemies to lovers fic with Steve? 💙 maybe they have to put aside their differences to fight upside down stuff and realize they actually have a lot in common 👀 • 18+  | ( 3.3k – little bit of king!steve, mostly angst with a dash of fluff, enemies to idiots in love, steve x reader )
B E C A U S E O F Y O U • P A R T T W O 🎶 theatre, etta marcus
❝ IS IT EASIER WHEN YOU DON’T HAVE TO START AGAIN? WHEN YOU DON’T WANNA MAKE AMENDS? ❞
‘Stealing a Winnebago’ had been easier than you’d assumed, but the getaway execution went exactly like you thought it would. Absolute disorganized chaos and the way Steve peeled out of the trailer park dumped you into Robin’s lap for the first mile. Made you even more skeptical of whatever half-assed plan these people had frankensteined together and now? You found yourself browsing the clothing section of The War Zone.
What in the hell were they thinking coming here anyway? From Eddie’s retelling of what happened under Lover’s Lake it sounded like not one of them knew anything about hand-to-hand combat, let alone guns. Couldn’t even land a punch, but thought they could handle this? Walls of rifles on display, rounders full of bulletproof gear and cases upon cases of bullets and god, you wanted to leave.
“Hey,” Nancy’s voice pulled your attention away from the tactical vests you were staring at, her eyes wide and earnest as she looked over at you. “If I go over to the counter, you gonna be okay?”
“Oh, totally,” you lied. “Yeah, was gonna go look over here anyway,” and you thumbed over your shoulder at more vests.
“Okay, good.”
She gave you a small Nancy-Wheeler-smile and left you there alone in a sea of camouflage. In the middle of a store you’d never have set foot in before all this and making you second guess yourself. Second guess what was seemingly more and more a stupid decision to go along with all of this and you huffed a sigh in frustration.
“Should’ve stayed in the trailer,” you grumbled under your breath, fighting the urge to just walk out, but apparently you weren’t the only one wandering around all the puke green clothing.
“Huh, didn’t know you had good ideas.”
The sound of Steve’s voice made your hands ball into fists, nails pressing half moons into your palms.
“Do you ever have anything nice to say?” you sneered and he had the audacity to be so causal. Didn’t even look up from the tactical vests he was flipping through and tossed one into his cart.
“Not to you I don’t.”
Anger rose in your chest like a pot boiling over, so hot it made your cheeks burn as you glowered over at him.
“What’s your problem?”
“Don’t have one.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yep,” and still he didn’t look at you. Picked a bomber jacket off the rack and piled it on top of his vest and it was the last straw.
Stalking over to his side of the rounder you got right up in his face, dug a finger into his chest and said, “Liar.”
His eyes flickered at your accusation, sardonic smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as he looked down at you and warned, “Don’t say things you can’t prove, Princess.” And he leaned into your finger. Waited for you to fold. Tsked at your attitude and the sound of it triggered a memory so strong you felt like you’d been sucker punched.
Your second ever interaction with Steve Harrington happened the week before summer break.
You heard it while you were walking back to school from grabbing lunch at the diner. A high, sharp whistle followed by car horn and then—
“Owwww, damn baby!”
And you recognized the voice right away.
Tommy Hagan. Leaning out the passenger window of Steve’s BMW. Wolf-whistling at you and being a dick and you tried to ignore them, but then they were pulling up next to you and slowing way down.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Tommy purred at your back, your mouth twisting into a scowl at the sound of Eddie’s nickname on his tongue. “You need a rid–” he started to ask, but his question cut short when you turned around.
Mouth dropped open in shock for a split second as he realized who you were, Tommy quickly recovered and started to laugh. That obnoxious, hyena-like laugh that made you want to punch him and he smiled and whistled again.
“Shit, Stevie! Who knew the freak had an ass on her!”
“You kiss Carol with that mouth, Tommy?” you shot back, Steve stifling a snicker from the driver’s seat.
“Bet you could do for a kiss, baby,” Tommy tsked, pouted his lips at you and grinned, “Always so damn sour.”
“Yeah? Wanna find out why?” you threatened and it made Tommy grin even wider. Shark-like. Predatory.
“Park it, Stevie,” Tommy didn’t bother looking at his friend, eyes locked on you as he opened the passenger door and jumped out of the car while it was still moving. Walked right up and crowded over you, eyes narrowing as he leaned in, “And what if I do?”
Your stomach lurched, heart leaping into your throat as you stood your ground. You didn’t think he’d take the bait, but you also didn’t shy away. God, you wished Eddie was there. Tilting your chin up in defiance you glared him down.
“Tommy, c’mon man. Just leave it,” you heard Steve’s voice from over Tommy’s shoulder, tinged at the edges with desperation as he ran up on the two of you, but Tommy couldn’t have cared less.
“Well? What’re you gonna do about it, toots?” Tommy pushed again, toes of his shoes knocking against yours as he stepped even closer, towering over you and it hit you like a ton of bricks how in over your head you were.
“Tommy, just leave–”
“I didn’t ask you, Harrington!” Tommy snapped and you took the opportunity.
Grabbing a fistful of his shirt in your hands, you yanked Tommy down into you and drove your knee into his crotch as hard as you could.
“Oh, fuuuuck,” he choked out, folded in half and hands covering his junk as he dry heaved and you took a big step back.
“Coward,” you turned and hurled the word at Steve and watched it land heavy as his face shifted. Brows pinching together and mouth dropped open, but nothing came out as he struggled to say those two little words. I’m sorry. To tell you he wasn’t like his friend, but his silence betrayed him.
“You bitch,” Tommy grunted at you as he tried to straighten up, one hand still over his crotch.
“Don’t move! I’ll–I’ll get you expelled!” you threatened and it made him laugh. A mean, mirthless thing.
“No fuckin’ way. My mom’s on the school board, who’s gonna take your side?”
And you looked back at Steve for a split second, silently asking him to step in and do something, but he stood frozen in place. Still unable to go against his ‘best friend’ and what little belief you had left in him was shattered.
You were done with Steve Harrington.
Shaking your head, you fought back the tears burning at the corners of your eyes and ran up the path to the cafeteria doors. Disappeared behind them with a loud, metallic slam! and left Steve alone to drown in the deafening silence.
Don’t say things you can’t prove, Princess.
It was like no time had passed, like you were still there in that parking lot with Tommy towering over you and tsking at you just like Steve was doing now, but this time you didn't run away.
“Don’t call me that!” you shoved at his chest and he stumbled back a step.
“Don’t call me a liar!”
“All you do is lie, Harrington! Your entire life was built on lies,” you could see his pulse fluttering against his neck. Watched his jaw tick as he clenched down on the words he wanted so badly to throw at you, but you didn’t give him a chance. “Why are you even here? You don’t give a shit about Eddie. You don’t give a shit about anyone, you’re–”
“Enough!” you flinched as his shout drew the attention of a couple older guys looking at the hunting gear. “You don’t know anything about me, okay? Not a god damn thing,” and the second part was quieter, but they way he held your gaze after punctuated it heavy.
He turned away from you, hastily pushing his cart back toward the cashier counter and walked out the double doors, but you weren’t about to let him have the last word.
“Hey, I’m not done!” you shouted after him across the parking lot. Sharp and biting and it made him spin back around, arms flung out at his sides in exasperation.
“Oh, yeah? Fine. What else you got?”
“Well, for one, I’m not going to sit here while you lord around like King Steve. This isn’t high school. No one here gives a shit about any of that.”
He squeezed his eyes shut at his old nickname. Sucked in a breath and let it out slow to try and steady himself.
“I’m not like that anymore.”
“Seriously? Do you hear yourself? You’ve been a dick to me since I set foot in Max’s trailer! And honestly? I’m not surprised! You think I don’t remember all the shit you put me through, put us through in school?” you shot back and he opened his eyes to glare over at you.
“Like I said, Princess–”
“I said don’t call me that!”
“–you don’t have any idea what this is. What we’re up against. None. You’re in over your head.”
“Okay? And what, I’m supposed to sit here on my hands and say, ‘It’s fine! Steve Harrington and all his little friends will fix this’?? You’re out of your mind!”
“And you think you can?” he shot back and your heart rate thrummed heavy in your ears.
“You know, Eddie says he trusts you now, but hell if I will. No fucking way,” and as you turned and cut past him back to the Winnebago he had to jog to keep up.
“Hey! Eddie almost killed me! With a fucking beer bottle!”
You huffed a laugh and kept walking, shaking your head at the accusation and incredulous at the lengths he was going to prove his point.
“Why should I believe you?” you called over your shoulder, “You’re probably just gunning for a headline: Steve Harrington, Hero of Hawkins!”
“Headline?? I–are you kidding me? You think I’d do all this for a headline??”
And finally you stopped at the bottom step of the Winnebago and Steve seized his chance.
“You really think I’m that superficial?” he shot at your back, but you didn’t turn around. Didn’t even acknowledge him and he spent what little patience he had left. “Hey! I’m talking to you!”
But you were already gone. Frozen in place with the world growing dark. Tree line ahead of you blurring. Unfocused and liquid like water and the ground swam under you as a voice echoed in your mind.
I see you.
The sound of Steve still talking behind you turned to fuzz, crackled like radio static and faded away into ear-splitting silence. Deafening and swallowing you whole and then you felt it. The ground falling out from underneath you and you were drowning in the dark and the voice that echoed in your mind pulled you even deeper.
Resisting will only make it worse.
❝ AND I NEVER HAD A TASTE FOR LIARS OR THE UNIQUELY UNINSPIRED ‘CAUSE I DON’T NEED TO BE DESIRED ❞
Steve glared daggers at your back. Anger hot and fuming and fueled by the fact that you had the nerve to ignore him and god, he wanted to prove you wrong.
“Are you trying to piss me off? Cos its work–” but the words died in his throat as he came around to face you. “Oh. Oh, shit,” with a quick glance over your shoulder he saw everyone else finally coming out of the store and he didn’t wait to call for help.
“Munson!! Eddie!” Steve yelled over your shoulder at your best friend before grabbing your shoulders in his hands and squeezed at them. Leaned down to try and meet your unfocused, far away gaze and when none of it worked he felt his chest grow tight.
Not again.
“Hey, hey! Look at me!" panic clawed its way up his throat as he shook your shoulders, "Stay with me! Munson–hurry up!”
Your eyes were glazed over, tears gathering at the corners as your whole body started to tremble. Breathing stuttered and caught in your throat. Lips parted and trying to pull air in, but it wasn’t enough and Steve felt his hand twitch. Wanted to press it to your cheek to try and ground you, reach you and bring you back, but then Eddie was finally at your side and shoving Steve out of the way.
“Sweetheart! Can you hear me? Shit, shit, shit. What happened?? Honey? Look at me!” Eddie cradled your face in his hands. Did what Steve couldn’t. Voice ratcheted up, his usual low timbre a high pitched thing driven by fear and hearing it doused any remaining anger that had settled into Steve’s chest and replaced it with something else.
With helplessness. Regret. Remorse.
With the slow realization that everything he’d just said to you wasn’t worth it. Remembered how Nancy had yelled at him, just like you, outside of the gym. You’re bullshit! And his throat squeezed with guilt for messing it all up again because he was bullshit. He was a liar and you were right. Had he learned nothing?
He looked at you, your face contorted with fear, and he felt something new flicker within him. A feeling blooming at the pit of his stomach. One he was so certain couldn’t possibly exist when it came to you, but as he stood there watching Eddie try to shake you back from the dark he wasn’t so sure anymore.
“Steve, help me!” tears cut down Eddie’s cheeks as he called to him and pulled him hurtling back to Earth. Desperate. Pleading. Begging him to do something and it shook Steve back into action.
Heart pounding in his chest, adrenaline coursed through Steve's body and fought off the fear that had threatened to trap him in choke hold.
“Max, gimme your Walkman!” he shouted over your shoulder.
The rest of the group had started running back to the Winnebago as soon as they’d heard yelling and when Steve asked for the cassette player, Max knew time was running out.
“Shit,” she hissed under her breath and broke into a sprint, scrambling to untangle the headphones from around her neck as she hurried to get to you. “Here! It’s still Kate Bush, is that–”
“Doesn’t matter–Munson get these on, hurry!” Steve, snatched the Walkman from Max and crammed it into Eddie’s outstretched hands.
“Please, please, please,” fell from Eddie’s lips, desperate, praying that this would work as he fitted the headphones on and pressed them against your ears, “Please.”
Blinking heavy, you strained your eyes against the black. Against the suffocating dark you suddenly found yourself in. The stand of vivid, green ash trees lining the parking lot replaced by gnarled branches, dark and leafless. Bright yellow buttercups snuffed out by thick, wet vines that snaked their way across the ground under your feet.
You weren’t in the parking lot of the War Zone anymore, not really, and as you breathed in the sickly, ashen air your heart stopped in your chest.
The Upside Down.
“Eddie? Eddie!” you shouted into the dark, red lightening cracking the sky in two, and when no one answered you knew you were utterly alone.
Panic gripped you like a vice as you thought of Chrissy. Of Fred and Patrick and dread filled your stomach. Utter hopelessness and grief and when you whipped around to run you felt something tangle around your leg. Wrapping up, up, up and pulling you down, down, down.
You braced for it, ready to break your fall with your hands, but you never hit and instead found yourself lifting into the air. Unhinged laughter filling your ears as more vines snaked around your arms and legs and you swore you were going to be sick.
It was
Him.
“Why isn’t it working?? God dammit, work!” Eddie was yelling at the Walkman, his composure unravelling as Chrissy’s last moments flooded his mind. “Is she gonna die? She can’t die!” he pleaded and his voice cracked, a sob caught in his throat, “Please don’t let her die!”
“Hey hey, hey! Get a hold of yourself. That’s not gonna happen, okay? It’s gonna work,” Steve gripped Eddie’s shoulders, looked him in the eye and tried to reassure him, but when he glanced over at you he knew he couldn’t make that promise. “Please work,” he whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Where are you going? You can’t leave. Not yet.
Vecna’s voice was everywhere. Flooding every part of you and you feared you would never feel joy again. Would never escape this. Would be stuck here forever screaming into the void, hanging on Vecna’s every whim.
I would like very much to show you where I’m going. Please, take a seat.
And the vines yanked you down, squeezed tight around your wrists and legs and held you fast against the ground, rocks digging painfully into your back.
“Please, let me go!” you pleaded into the dark. “Please, I–” but your mouth went dry as a shadowy figure appeared through the ash. Coming closer and closer in the dark with each heavy step and when it finally stopped, feet at your head, your blood ran cold.
Wet, sinewy skin. Muscles exposed and stretched taut. Eyes that pierced your mind and knew every single one your thoughts. Knew all the dark things spiraling there and made them worse. Clawed at you with spindly, protruding hands and long, dagger-like claws and suffocated you with the smell of something rotten.
Of decay.
Of death.
Reaching a hand down, Vecna held it over your face, inches away from touching you as you struggled against your restraints, but they constricted tighter with your every move.
“Please,” you were crying openly now, tears cutting paths through the ash that had settled on your cheeks, but he ignored you.
I want you to tell your friends, I want you to tell them everything you see. Everything I show you.
“No, please!”
Tell them!
“No, I can’t–”
Tell them everything!
And then your head felt like was being cleaved in two. White hot light fracturing the black sky into thick shards and your screams were the only thing you could hear as Vecna pried open your mind and poured into you his vision for the future...
Hawkins in ruin.
Four gashes in the earth. Cavernous. Hot and angry and full of fire.
Your family. Lying scattered across your lawn. Motionless and still and limbs bent wrong.
Tell them!
Your friends hanging in the air just like Chrissy, Fred, Patrick.
Eyes empty, slack-jawed and lifeless, bones snapped like twigs.
Tell them!
Eddie and Robin and Nancy and Steve and–
“NO!” you screamed, the sound pulled painfully from your lungs as you felt your legs give way and collapsed into yourself.
“Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa–”
Steve scrambled to grab hold of your shoulder and barely caught you before your bare knees hit the pavement.
You heard birds chirping. Sunlight filtering through the backs of your eyelids as you kept them squeezed shut, but the air was clean. Smelled fresh and as you slowly opened your eyes you realized you weren’t choking on ash anymore.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Steve was still holding onto you, your hands pressed into his thighs as you braced yourself, the feeling of nausea overwhelming.
“I saw him,” you whispered, only Steve could hear you and you started to cry.
“Him?” Steve asked unnecessarily, glancing up at Eddie. Hoping, no praying, if he asked maybe you’d give a different answer. One that wouldn’t involve death and the end of the world and everything hinging on this stupid fucking plan, but he knew.
Everyone knew.
Eyes glued on their feet. Arms folded over their chests and uneasy with the weight that had settled over the group.
“Vecna.”
[ NOTE: THIS IS PART TWO OF A – POSSIBLY – FIVE PART SERIES, PART FOUR AND FIVE TO COME SOON ]
crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist ♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️
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sp0o0kylights · 10 months
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Someone on Twitter proposed Steve and Gareth as cousins whose family had a major falling out, and then someone else brought it up recently and long story short no idea who to credit the idea too bc you can’t search for SHIT on Twitter but it's theirs not mine. 
Anyway I wrote a lil thing as a warmup 
PART TWO
"Why don't you come sit with Hellfire?" Gareth asked, angrily leaned against the bathroom wall while Steve fixed his hair.
He'd tried not to cling since he entered high school. Tried to keep things on the downlow, least any gossipy mouths started running. 
It was so stupidly, needlessly, hard. 
 His cousin was only two years ahead of him but they'd spent the last year in different schools because of it. 
 That year, and the lack of Steve's presence in it, had grated. Now that he finally had Steve back, Gareth was loathe to play by the rules. 
"Sit with you and Eddie, "the freak" Munson? I'll pass." Steve said, but there was no bite in it. 
That, Gareth knew, was because Steve was  using Eddie as an excuse. 
"You'd like Eddie if you spent five minutes with him, King Steve." Gareth fired back on automatic. His fingers dug into his arms, as he resisted the urge to pace around the bathroom floor. 
Unspoken was all the shit that had taken place.
Steve and Nancy's breakup. The rumor mill in overdrive, first about how Jonathan Byers had taken creep shot photos of them, then about how he'd taken his shot with Nancy herself. 
The supposed cheating, the public fights, the crazy background of Jonathan's little brother being missing. 
Billy Hargrove beating Steve to a pulp. 
Now friendless, Steve had thoroughly fallen from his place at the tippy top of the social hierarchy and between his utter lack of friends and his shit tier parents, Gareth was concerned. 
"You do not want me to sit with you, Gary. I'd tell all your little friends that you're apart of the royal family." Steve turned, making an exaggerated face. "How's Munson feel about cozying up to a Prince?" 
"I'd technically be an Earl, Steve, not a prince." Gareth grumbled. 
He got an eye roll in response. "Somehow I don't think he'll care." 
"I do though." Gareth blurted out, absolutely thoughtless. 
Steve blinked at him. 
"What?" He said. 
In for a penny right?
 "I care." Gareth said, looking down and scuffing a shoe, making it squeak against the grimy tiles. "About you. You dick." 
"Wow Gary you almost sounded loving there."
For once, he ignored the jab. "I'm worried about you, man." He said it quietly, the painful truth pulled out of him almost by force. 
He knew better than anyone how few people Steve had. Knew how his dad was likely taking all the crap Steve had been involved in lately. 
Richard Harrington hadn't been the wedge that had separated his and Steve's mother, but the man hadn't done them any favors, either. 
His intolerance towards the working and lower classes, his demand for perfection, the way he looked down his nose not just on Gareth's parents but on his own wife and son…
Gareth's mom didn't tolerate it. 
Likewise, Stella Harrington didn't tolerate her sister ruining her shot at being a rich trophy wife. 
Both their sets of parents were dramatic and neither of them weren't anywhere near the concept of "good" but at least Gareth's weren't neglectful and abusive. 
Shitty absolutely, but he never worried about getting thrown out, or that his mom wouldn't acknowledge his birthday because he'd "complimented her outfit the wrong way." 
(”It's fine dude she just thought I called her ugly. It was a miscommunication. Dad said it's a good lesson about how women work."
"Casual reminder that your dad's an asshole and also how is telling your mom that she looked lovely in the sunlight telling her she's ugly?”
“It implied she wasn't lovely the rest of the time or some shit, I dunno man.”) 
The BMW was a shitty prize when compared what Steve had dealt with to receive it. 
"I'm okay." Steve said seriously. "It's almost the end of the year anyways. I can tough out having some extra alone time." 
"If you're sure…"
"Yeah man, I'm sure. Thanks though."
Then Steve pulled him into a hug and fuck their parents, who demanded they continued some stupid grudge. Gareth clung to him just as hard as he had at ten. Unsure if he'd ever be allowed to see Steve again.
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farfaras · 1 year
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First part to this prompt I posted the other day. This is gonna be eventual steddie (sorry, stonathan) and I’m really excited. Title from the song ‘nonsense’ by Sabrina Carpenter.
I think I got an ex but I forgot him
Part 1. (You’re here)
Part 2.
-
If he heard the words: Robin and in love, in the same sentence, with the melodious voice of one Dustin Henderson, one more time. Steve was sure he was gonna lose it.
Listen, he understands where he’s coming from. The kid just wants him to be happy. But he is! Dustin just doesn’t seem to get that. Happiness doesn’t only come in the form of a relationship. His teenage brain can’t comprehend that fact just yet. He wishes he did though, because he’s absolutely insufferable about getting Steve and Robin together.
No excuse or explanation he gives is good enough. Dustin still insists that he needs to try, that this is his chance at true love. Robin is kind of the love of his life, sure, but the platonic love of his life. His best friend, his soulmate, sister from another mister. All that jazz. Dustin doesn’t buy it though.
And Steve’s tried everything! He even told Dustin about that time in starcourt when they were high off his asses. Told him that he confessed his crush to Robin but that she rejected him, and that they were best friends now and nothing else. He obviously left out the part where Robin came out to him. He’s never gonna reveal Robin’s secret to anyone. The only answer he got was that “It doesn’t even matter now! Things could’ve changed! You never know.” Steve knew. He knew that he would never be into his best friend like that, and she would never be into him. Apparently they were the only ones who knew that.
Because of all the fuss Dustin was constantly making, other people started giving their input. Thanks Dustin. They didn’t get it either, didn’t believe they were just Platonic with a capital P. They made sure they knew it too, the whole party, Nancy, Jonathan, Eddie. Not Argyle, he said that the energy between Steve and Robin was intense but completely friendly, almost like they were twins. Steve liked Argyle. Of course he had to be miles away.
Most of their friends dropped the subject after the second time Steve or Robin explained the nature of their relationship. Even if they weren’t convinced, they didn’t push. Except for one person. Yep. Dustin.
Who was currently harassing Steve at his job. He didn’t know what else to tell him. If family video wasn’t empty he would just ignore him to do his job but there was nothing to do. He couldn’t even sweep or anything because everything was already done.
“Okay well! There must be a good reason why you guys haven’t gotten together!” Dustin exclaimed. He is so fucking stubborn.
“I already told you, Henderson. We’re. Just. Friends.” He knew it wasn’t gonna do anything. It was just a routine at this point.
Dustin’s expression changed to determination. “Nuh uh. There’s a reason there. And I’m gonna find out!” Shit. Could Dustin figure out Robin? He doesn’t think so. But he’s starting to panic. What if he finds out? Robin doesn’t deserve that. He’d feel like it was his fault, and everything would go to shit.
“Okay! Okay! There is a reason.”
“I knew it! You have to tell me.” Dustin demanded. Well, Steve hasn’t thought that much ahead. He needs to come up with something and he needs to do it fast if Dustin is gonna believe it.
“Look, I haven’t told anyone this before.” Building suspense, nice.
Then, an idea popped into his head and it seemed like the perfect response to all of this. Or maybe it’s the only thing he could think of in such short notice. “I’m gay.” He blurts out. It made sense in his head, really. Robin doesn’t get outed, but she can still look at the reaction she might get when she comes out. (It doesn’t hold any kind of truth at all. Not one Steve can see right now at least.)
Dustin is just staring at him. “What? I don’t, you’re not, since when?”
“Since I was born?” It sounds like a question. Steve didn’t prepare for follow up questions to the reply he literally just crafted.
“There’s no way you’re gay.” At least he didn’t seem disgusted or upset? Is this a good or bad reaction?
“Are you not okay with it?” Steve dared to ask.
“What?! Of course I’m okay with it, I’m just. I don’t care, but you don’t really seem gay. It’s hard to believe.” At least he’s okay with it. He’s still being stubborn.
“Way to stereotype, Henderson.”
Dustin sputters. “Wha- can you even blame me? Who could believe you?”
The next words that came out of Steve’s mouth didn’t actually ask for permission to be said. “My boyfriend can believe it.” He said it so matter of fact that he surprised himself a little. The way he usually took the route of action before thinking was gonna bite him in the ass some day. Would that be today?
“Boyfriend?!! And you didn’t tell me? You don’t have a boyfriend!” He accused Steve. “Who is it?”
Oh. Shoot. Quick, brain. Who could be his boyfriend? Someone his age, that was single, and could be believed to be in a gay relationship.
“It’s Jonathan.” Why did he say that? He just broke up with Nancy, that would just seem like a messy situation. Also is he literally just doing what he scolded Dustin for and stereotyping?
“But he just broke up with Nancy.” Hmm. Did Dustin read his mind or something.
“It’s new. That’s why I haven’t told anyone.”
“Not even Robin?” Oh, crap. Is he gonna have to tell this to people? Well, he should probably tell Jonathan first that he is apparently in a relationship with him now.
“Not even Robin.” Dustin beamed at this.
“You know, even if you and Jonathan are kind of a weird sounding couple, and this is surprising… if you’re happy then I’m happy for you, Steve.” That was weirdly sweet of Dustin.
“Thanks, bud.”
After that and renting a movie, Dustin was on his way. He gave Steve a hug goodbye and hopped on his bike to go home.
Steve had a lot of things to get done now. And he hoped that the first one went well because he didn’t really have a plan B if it didn’t. What had he gotten himself into?
First things first. Asking Jonathan to be his fake boyfriend.
At least for a while.
What could go wrong?
-
Step 1. Get Jonathan to be his fake boyfriend.
Step 2. Probably get Robin in on it?
He’s not sure about that one. This situation was kind of embarrassing, he’d rather just share his embarrassment with the one person who is absolutely necessary. Also Robin doesn’t seem like the type to lie to their friends. Even if it was harmless.
Step 2. Probably get Robin in on it?
Step 2. Make a game plan.
They’d probably need to talk about how this was gonna go. Get all their facts straight in case there were any questions, which there were going to be. Plan how long this was gonna be for. He was getting a bit ahead of himself, but there was no plan B.
Step 3. Hope it’s believable.
He was already outside of the Hopper-Byers home. This shouldn’t be hard, Jonathan is a pretty understanding guy. He wouldn’t judge Steve, or make fun of him. At least that’s what Steve hoped. They’ve been developing a friendship for a while. Which has been going surprisingly well. Fuck. Was this gonna mess it up?
He got out of his car and walked to the door, knocking. El answered the door, she gave him a smile and let him in.
“Is Jonathan home?” Him asking for Jonathan wasn’t a rare occurrence nowadays, so El just nodded and pointed to his room.
He knocked to make his presence known. “Hey, Jon?” He opened the door and stepped inside the room.
“Hiya. What’s up, Harrington?” Jonathan grinned at Steve. Ah. Shit. He didn’t look completely sober. Must’ve smoked something earlier.
“Well, I wanted to talk to you. I’d rather wait until you sober up though.” Jonathan just gave him a thumbs up.
“Happy to have company.” Steve knew Jonathan was having trouble dealing with the break up. They had been together for a while and he thought that those two were gonna beat all the odds and marry each other or something. Maybe they still could find their way back to each other someday. Right now though, it probably sucked.
Nancy was off to college, Jonathan stayed here in Hawkins doing community college. There was no way of knowing how Nancy was taking it, she barely called and when she did it was kinda cut and dry. Although Steve supposed that was a way of telling she wasn’t doing so good either.
They hung out, doing nothing in particular. Just talking, listening to music and Steve sobering him up.
“Did you say you wanted to talk about something?” Jon asked. He looked sober now. Or as sober as his perpetual stoner face could look.
“Yeah… I kinda did something stupid.”
“Don’t we all.” Cute. Was he trying to make him feel better? It would’ve worked if what he did wasn’t as stupid as it was.
“No, seriously. I think this is the dumbest thing I have done.” Understatement.
“It can’t be that bad.” Jon’s words weren’t aligned with his face because it looked like he was starting to worry.
“It has something to do with you too.” With those words, Steve definitely made Jonathan start to worry. “Hear me out first!”
Retelling the events from earlier was excruciating. Steve has never felt this embarrassed before. It sounded so dumb saying it out loud.
“You really couldn’t come up with anything else? Like oh I don’t know. Saying you don’t like Robin like that?” It was like he wasn’t even listening.
“I tried that thousands of times! He wouldn’t buy it!”
“Why haven’t you just dated anyone else? To prove that you’re not hung up on her?” Interesting line of questioning. Honestly, it’s been a long time since someone has made him feel anything at all. No girl caught his attention like before. Has the upside down messed him up so bad that he can’t form romantic connections anymore?
“I just, I don’t really. Taking a break from dating sounded good to me.”
“Uh huh. Sure.” Jon didn’t believe him, whatever.
“Look I just panicked, spoke without thinking.”
“You know, I actually thought that Dustin was right about you and Robin before. But if you’re so determined to prove you’re not, to even come up with something like that.” Steve hated this. Was Jonathan getting a kick out of this?
“Are you amused? I’m kinda suffering here.” Steve lamented. “Can you just please help me?
“Oh god, what do you expect me to do? Pretend to date you to get Dustin off your back?” Yes. Please.
“Look! I only ask for a few weeks! It doesn’t have to be for long. Just, a few weeks of fake dating and then just say it didn’t work out and we decided to stay friends. All that cheesy stuff.” God, he was not being convincing at all.
Jonathan still looked skeptical. But at least he was considering it now. “I’ll owe you, big time. Whatever favor you want.” Steve offered.
Jon looked resigned now. He huffed out a breath. “I never thought my first boyfriend was gonna be Steve Harrington.”
“What?”
“Yeah. I always pictured a nerd or maybe a stoner.” He was confused now. Was Jonathan? “Yes, Steve. You should probably know if we’re gonna do this. I also like guys. And I’m assuming you’re okay with it, considering what you just asked.”
“Of course! Thanks for telling me. I’m glad you could trust me.” He was being genuine. Even if Steve was a little surprised, and now felt even more guilty about words he used in the past to insult Jonathan. All the past apologies seemed insufficient. Even so, he was happy that their friendship could develop into this.
“So? How is this gonna work? You really owe me now, you know.”
“Trust me, I know.”
So their friendship wasn’t ruined. Who knows? Maybe this could make it stronger.
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lavenderstobins · 8 months
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robin and nancy have a short-lived fling before they go off to college. the thing is— it’s too fresh for both of them. robin wakes up screaming for steve and triggers nancy’s own panic. nancy can’t bear to lose someone else she loves so has moments of turning cold. they leave for college, and gradually they lose contact.
nancy goes to boston, to emerson, follows her dreams of journalism. she goes alone. she tries to lose herself in college parties, and it doesn’t work at first, but it gets easier and easier with time. she finds herself feeling happy again for the first time in years. she feels safe. 
robin goes to california, to stanford. steve moves with her, and eddie with him, so the three of them get an apartment together. despite robin juggling a double-major and a part time job, she can finally breathe again. 
a couple of years later, long since they’ve both graduated, robin and nancy bump into each other again. they’ve changed a lot: nancy’s hair is short, cut to her chin, no longer permed, and she has several tattoos on her arms. robin’s hair is longer, tied up in a loose bun, and she’s more tanned than nancy remembers. nancy isn’t a journalist, to robin’s surprise. no, nancy found her joy in creative writing instead, at mike’s recommendation. she’s working on a young adult series about a group of teenager— part time mystery solvers, part time monster hunters.
“like scooby doo,” robin jokes, and nancy hides a smile. 
“like us,” she says, and then pauses. “are we— were we mystery inc?” 
“oh, you were absolutely velma,” robin says. “if velma had guns, anyway.” 
“velma should’ve been given a gun,” nancy agrees, and this time she grins.
nancy finds out that robin’s an english teacher, now. she still lives with steve and eddie, although they have a house together now, no longer a small apartment. they have a cat, and a garden, and they’re all happy there. happier than they ever thought they could be.
it’s been years since they left hawkins, since they stopped talking, but they fall easily back into conversation. like they never left. they exchange numbers and promise to keep in touch. this time, they stick to it. this time, they fall for each other, slowly but surely. they’re not the traumatised teenagers they used to be. they’ve lived, and they’ve grown, and they’ve found themselves. 
nancy wheeler kisses robin buckley for the first time in years in the rain, outside her own apartment, when they’re both soaked to the bone and shivering. then she kisses her again in her hallway, and again on the stairs, and again in her bedroom. she remembers the parts she’s missed, and learns the parts that are new. they do this again, and again, and again. 
when robin wakes up screaming, nancy holds her, murmuring soft assurances. when nancy freezes up, robin takes her hand and squeezes it, grounding her. 
for a second time, nancy wheeler and robin buckley fall in love. 
this time, it works out for them.
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imfinereallyy · 9 months
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celebrate softly
it my birthday today so here’s a lil gift from me to you (yes I know that’s not how this works haha) I made a bunch of little things is celebration, i probably won’t post these till later in the day so sorry if you get a bunch at once.
Steve wanted to like his birthday.
No, really, he truly did. He knew that birthdays were the one time of year you get to be a little selfish. The people you loved gathered around you to celebrate another year of you.
It was just that Steve was also used to disappointment.
Over the years, his birthday has consisted of either his parents parading him around at business dinners or the empty silence of a house that wasn’t ever a home.
His old friends were never around. It was a holiday weekend; he didn’t expect them to stick around. Even if they had, Steve was almost sure they would have made him throw a party, where they would have pressured him to get drunk and sleep with someone, and…
Yea, Steve wasn’t interested.
The one birthday he spent with Nancy had been okay. She had to go on a family trip, her parents attempt at getting their kids to cheer up over the loss of their friends, and she was going to leave the morning of his birthday. But at midnight of July 2nd, she had snuck into his window even though she could have walked through the front door. Nancy had brought him a cupcake, a small present, and a soft smile. Steve had wanted to kiss her, but he knew it wasn’t what she wanted then. He wanted to be respectful, so he held her hand instead.
Nancy hadn’t brought a candle, said she didn’t want to risk burning the Harrington Household down. Steve had laughed, saying that would be the best birthday present ever, but she hadn’t laughed back.
The present had been a book. Which wasn’t a terrible gift per se, Steve liked reading it was just he had difficulty doing it. He couldn’t focus long enough, or he would have to reread sentences over and over again.
It just didn’t feel worth the frustration.
But it was sweet of her to get him something, so he tried reading it. It took him months to finish it, even though it was small. It was boring, and Steve had found the main character whiny, and Steve had begun to wonder if Nancy was trying to tell him something.
Then the Upside Down round two had happened, Steve got his ass kicked again and learned that Catcher in the Rye was Jonathan’s favorite book.
Steve had thrown out the book amongst his bloody bandages.
Steve was only slightly hopeful to have a good birthday last year. He had good friends (sure, one was his ex, and the other were children, but he still counted them); Dustin would be home from camp, and even though he had work, he got to spend the whole day bothering Robin, which brought him a special kind of joy.
But then they were cracking Russian code, getting tortured, and watching Max’s Stepbrother die, all within the days of his birthday.
So Steve didn’t have high expectations this year. Sure, people knew it was his birthday, it was hard to hide when he was friends with the nosiest people, but most of them were spending the entire weekend staying with Max, and he would have been too if Max hadn’t thrown a remote at him when he suggested it.
So Steve had conceded to having a quiet but lonely July 2nd.
But then at 7 am there was a knock on his front door.
A knock was putting it lightly, there was pounding echoing in the Harrington Household.
When Steve walked up to the door, he was prepared to drive away some bigots who had been trying to “repent Hawkins.” They had been going around the richer neighborhoods recently, saying we needed to clean up the streets of the sinners and the queers.
Yea, they were knocking on the wrong door.
Steve hadn’t expect Eddie Munson, notorious night owl, to be crowding his doorway at 7 am.
“Harrington, have I ever told you how absolutely ugly your house is? Like for how wealthy your parents are, they chose an absolute nightmare of a layout! It makes no sense.” Eddie budged his way past Steve with his arms full of bags.
“I’ve been telling him that for a year, Eddie, and every time he just shrugs!” Steve turned to find Robin bullying her way through him as well. She had a handful of videos in her hands.
“Sure, come in, I guess,” Steve mumbled. He shut the door and turned toward his intruders. “Not that I don’t love a surprise appearance at—“ Steve checked his watch “—7:03 am, but is there a reason why you are awake before the birds are even chirping?”
Eddie snorted and just gave him a look instead of answering. Robin shook her head, “What doofus hear is trying to convey with a noise, Jesus Eds, I know you’re not a morning, but words please, is that we are obviously here for your birthday. You, Steven Alison Harrington—“
“Not my middle name.”
“—we’re born at exactly 7:07 am on July 2nd. So we had to be here to say happy birthday officially!”
“How do you even know the time? I don’t even know that.”
“She snuck a look at your file last time Owen’s was in town.” Eddie smirked.
Robin hit him upside the head, “Don’t tell him that asshole, he already thinks I’m crazy enough. And don’t act like this wasn’t your idea!”
Eddie rubbed the back his head in dramatic fashion then yelled, “Snitch!” through hissed teeth.
Steve felt himself unthaw at the idea that these two weirdos woke up this early for him. “Ah, well, thanks, guys.” A blush rose on his cheeks, “Well, thanks for stopping by; you guys can go home and sleep if you want.”
“Stevie, did you think we brought all this to just leave? On your birthday. Oh no, no, no. We are having a whole movie and snack day! I brought weed, and chips, and we can order a pizza later in the day. And just be lazy weirdos in your fancy living room.” Eddie hopped up on his coffee table, startling a laugh from Steve.
“That sounds like a typically Friday for us, what’s so special about it?” Steve teased.
“Well we brought all of your favorite movies! Grease, Top Gun, Karate Kid, Indiana Jones...wait I think I'm noticing a theme here—“
“Robin!” Steve screeched, his blush coming back with vengeance. He didn’t want her to reveal there very obvious, and embarrassing pattern to his favorite films.
“And!” Eddie said from atop his place on the coffee table, unfazed by the two of them, “We are paying for the pizza.” His voice oozed with pride at that. Steve was sure he had come up with the idea.
“Wow I’m a spoiled prince. Maybe ever think I wanted to stay in bed?” Steve raised a single eyebrow.
“Oh but my sweet prince, we know you rather spend this glorious day with us.” Eddie was confident, with confidence came the damn nicknames, and Jesus Christ—this blush of his was never going away. “Besides what else could you wish for!”
A kiss from you. Steve thought quickly.
Steve sighed deeply before saying, “Alright. Get down.”
Eddie seemed taken aback, like he hadn’t expected the rejection. “Oh yea man, of course. We will get out of your hair.” He scrambled off the table.
Steve giggled, “No Eds. I’m moving the coffee table. This couch is a pullout. We can all just lay on it while we watch movies.”
Eddie’s face lit up while Robin yelled, “Oh thank god, I’m exhausted.”
An hour later, when the sun was still barely risen and Grease blared in the background, Robin was bundled up in the blankets they dragged from his room, out like a light.
Eddie and Steve huddled close, but didn’t touch. The anticipation and want sat between them. “I actually have something for you.” Eddie whispered.
Robin snored beside them; Steve looked at her fondly. “You don’t have to whisper; she’s a heavy sleeper. Learned that the hard way.”
“Ah well, I have a present for you.”
Steve knows he should say that Eddie shouldn’t have, or insist he returns it. He knew it was the polite thing to do. He couldn’t find it in himself to do it, though. The idea that Eddie even thought to get him something beyond the amazing day they had planned (truly Steve couldn’t ask for a better day), but Eddie had spent his time to get something for Steve.
It was nice to have someone who would do something nice for you just because they can, not because they should. So, Steve waited patiently as Eddie reached into his bag beside the couch.
“Here.” Eddie spoke, placing the roughly wrapped package in his lap.
There was a tiny notecard with Eddie’s chicken scratch on it; Steve decided to read that first.
Stevie,
No adventure is the same without you, and this is the only one I have taken without you by my side. Thought it was about time we changed that. Hopefully we are not forever partners in crime (we’ve had enough of that) but instead, adventurers taking on then great unknown.
Together.
Yours,
Eddie Munson ッ
Steve smoothed over the card and tried not to cry. The poorly drawn smiley face stared up at him from the piece of parchment. Steve tucked it into his pocket for safe keeping; he might even frame it.
Eddie looked at Steve eagerly as he tried to open the package. He does it slowly to tease Eddie; his frustrated little growl made butterflies in Steve’s stomach.
Inside the package is a worn-out book, one he would recognize anywhere, considering he saw it every day on Eddie’s bookshelf. “Eds, this is your copy of Lord of the Rings. I can’t take this.”
Eddie put his hair in front of his mouth, suddenly shy, “Well, it wouldn’t be exactly yours. It’s just I thought it would be fun to, ya know, read it together? Like we take turns reading to each other. I know the kids always bug you to read it, and I noticed that it’s hard for you to focus sometimes, and I get that, so it might be easier if we like make it a thing? I know it’s probably not your interest; it’s my favorite book, not yours, so you know what? This is stupid—“
Steve cut him off by pulling him into a hug. Steve buried himself into Eddie’s neck before saying, “Thank you. It’s the best birthday present.”
“Really?” Eddie pulled back to look at Steve’s face. Whatever he found there must settle him, because he relaxed his shoulders. “I know it’s silly, but I guess I wanted to share this piece of myself with you…and maybe spend some more time together.”
Steve didn’t mention how they spent almost every day together, didn’t think he had to either. They both knew.
Steve decided to be bold instead. He pushed Eddie back into the couch and settled his back into Eddie’s chest. He snuggled into the warmth of his arms.
Steve put the book in Eddie’s hand. “Okay, you read first.”
Eddie laughed; Steve could feel the vibrations from under his skin. It was delightful; it was delicious. “Oh, you want to start now?”
Steve made an indignant noise while Eddie laughed again at him. His hands settled at the back of Steve’s neck as he played with hair that brushed it.
“When Mr Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventyifirst birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was …”
And once again, hours later, when Steve woke up, after drifting to Eddie’s soft, deep voice, Steve felt something settle in him. He felt Eddie lightly snoring beneath him, one hand still tangled in his hair. He felt Robin’s hand wrapped around his ankle, grounding the both of them. And there, between all of them, was the fallen book with no bookmark, signaling they would have to start again.
Maybe, sometimes. Steve thinks, birthdays could be good.
***
projecting. projecting. projecting. that’s me.
I hope you guys liked this one :) I did use my own bday for him, but the time he was born at is different than mine lol. I had a lot of fun writing it, it was just the softness I needed.
1K notes · View notes
morganbritton132 · 7 months
Note
Omg ok so my sisters used to play soccer and one of the moms had a cowbell. This woman would ring the bell every time the team got a goal. And now like 20 years later our mother was talking to someone about how my sisters used to do the local soccer thing and the other person was like “omg do you remember the cowbell lady? That team was so good but dear lord that cowbell was annoying!”……..I can picture Eddie getting a cowbell
Absolutely yes. No notes. Eddie definitely does this.
Steve kinda dooms himself to it because they played a scrimmage against a team that brought their own cheerleaders. Eddie prides himself on a level of dramatism that is not going to let that slide so he asks.
He did ask if he could be Steve’s cheerleader.
Steve, who melts every time Eddie takes an interest in one of his hobbies, does not think of the consequences when he says, “You’re already my cheerleader, but sure.”
If Steve thought about it for a little bit than he would probably think that Eddie was going to show up at the game in an actual cheerleading uniform, but he didn’t think about it. He actually forgot about the entire conversation until the next weekend when Eddie tries to get into the car with an electric guitar.
Steve stops him, “What are you doing?”
“Uh, cheerleading?”
“Where would you even plug that in at?”
“Oh, you’re right,” Eddie considers and then darts back into the house. He returns a few minutes later with an acoustic guitar, but Steve gives him a look that says very clearly ‘absolutely not.’ Eddie strums the guitar anyways and says, “I love you, bitch. I ain’t never gonna stop-“
“Eddie, we’re going to be late!”
So, he didn’t do anything that weekend other than come up with some on-the-fly cheers with another player’s girlfriend and agree to design them shirts. Nancy did say that if he tried to start a wave in the crowd that she would divorce him. From the land of the living.
He thinks she means it too.
Eddie’s already picked out the cowbell by the time next weekend rolls around. They’re playing against a group from the nearby methodist church and the only thing that Steve requests is that Eddie stays off his soapbox about organized religion. He says nothing about cowbells.
Nancy isn’t even aware that he has it until he whips it out after the first goal and starts ringing it. The whole field stops moving and just stares at him for a second, which is great. Eddie loves an audience.
Steve looks fucking delighted, too.
It is rather unfortunate that the team they’re playing against sucks major ass and they score more goals than they have in any other game because that cowbell rings with enthusiasm every single time. Except for the last goal because when Eddie went to reach for the bell, Ozzy put his paw over his hand to tell him to stop.
It doesn’t matter though because Steve runs over to him as soon as the game ends, all smiles and kisses. It’s painfully and sickeningly sweet when he tells him, “Best cheerleader I’ve ever had.”
Steve kisses him again and tells him, “Never do it again though.”
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headkiss · 1 year
Text
do you think i have forgotten?
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pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: you loved steve harrington years ago, and he loved you. now, coming back to hawkins, you find that things may not be so different.
word count: 14.1k
warnings: fluff, smut, a little angst, exes to lovers, very much idiots in love!
a/n: here it is!!! i hope u guys like it!!! it took a while but hopefully it was worth it <3
A ‘welcome home’ banner hangs lopsided on the wall.
The party is smaller than the ones you’d become accustomed to at school. That didn’t matter. What did was that your favorite people were around for this one.
It was meant to be a surprise, but Nancy gave you a heads up. She knows you hate surprises, you just don’t have the heart to tell Robin, who absolutely loves surprise parties. Planning them, to be exact. So, you acted shocked, put on your biggest smile.
It was worth it for the beaming grin on your friend’s face, the tight hug as a hello.
You didn’t realize how much you missed home until now. Until you came back.
Small talk isn’t so tiring when it’s with people you really care about. Eddie and Jonathan, Nancy and Robin, even the kids are there to give you the warmest welcome you could ever have. Hugs from some of them, teasing from all of them.
It’s perfect, but there’s an obvious absence. One you’ve tried and tried not to think about. But here, in this room, with these people, you can tell that without him, there’s a space waiting to be filled.
That space has been left open in your life for years. A gaping hole. Then, when the night’s half over and you’re convinced you won’t see him, you hear one word that has memories rushing back to you. Like a flood.
“Ace.”
There’s only one person in the entire world who calls you that. Steve Harrington.
The nickname isn’t the only thing that gives him away. His voice is engraved in your head, the tone, the way it hits your ears. It’s been years since you last heard it, and still, it feels so, so familiar.
You met in high school. Gym class, actually, and you’d been deemed Ace ever since. By him.
It started with friendship, reluctant at first and then impossibly close. It grew into the kind of undeniable thing that pushed you together. Boyfriend and girlfriend. In love.
He was really, really good to you. So good that you didn’t care about who his friends were or what his reputation was. You didn’t care when things changed and he went from King Steve to the best babysitter around. Over a year, you were together.
Then, he was gone.
When you told him you’d be going away for school, he was supportive, happy for you, even. Then, the day before you were set to move he sat you down and broke your heart. I can't be with you anymore, he said.
Not I don’t want to, or I won’t. Can’t. Like he had no other choice.
To this day, you’re not sure why he did it. You called over and over for weeks when you first got to school. He never picked up. You were only able to check on him through your mutual friends. Robin, Nancy, Eddie, all of them.
One day, he was the greatest thing in your life, the next, he’d completely disappeared from it. Like a ghost.
You pushed yourself through school, tried to let go of him. It got easier, but the pinch in your chest when you thought about him never quite went away. You tried being with other guys again, but nothing stuck. It felt like you were cheating, like you could never fully commit to someone else. Your mind, body, and soul still belonged to him.
It got easier eventually. You can’t remember when it did, but over time, thinking of Steve became less like a stab to the chest, and more of a pinch.
When you spoke to your friends, they’d mention him briefly. In passing, like they didn’t want to hurt you with something as simple as a name. You knew he was working at Family Video with Robin, you knew his parents were around even less than they used to be, and you knew he went on dates. Often.
Steve spent every year of you being away trying to convince himself that he did the right thing.
He missed you constantly, but he felt like he’d be holding you back if he stayed with you. A distraction from your college experience, a boyfriend who couldn’t even make it to college himself. Not enough for you.
Now, seeing you at the welcome home party Robin put together, he feels like the biggest idiot in the world. Universe, even. Because how could he have let go of someone that lights up the room like a ray of fucking sunshine.
It’s pathetic that all he could say to you after all the years was his nickname for you.
You turn around after hearing it, the sight of Steve a punch in the gut. He’s just as pretty, if not more, and though he mostly looks the same, he’s grown in ways you weren’t there to see. He’s almost a stranger now.
“Steve,” you manage. “You’re here.”
“Hi.”
It took a lot of convincing from the gang for him to come. Not because he didn’t want to (he wanted to see you more than anything), but because he didn’t want to do anything to make you upset.
Your haircut is different than before, and you hold yourself in a new way, too. But, as soon as he finds your eyes he feels like he’s in high school again, laying in his bed facing you or laughing at the back of the movie theater.
He thinks of the last time he saw you, the tears leaving trails down your cheeks, the way you didn’t let yourself sob until he walked out. His stomach is in knots.
“Hi,” you hold yourself back from reaching out and poking him to make sure he’s real. “I didn’t think you were coming.”
“Well, surprise,” he sings the second word and throws up some awkward jazz hands. A glimpse of the dork you remember.
Surprise indeed.
“I can leave,” he offers in your silence. He even turns to do so before you stop him.
“No! No, it’s just- it’s been a while.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
You shake your head. It’s too late for that, and as much as you want to know what happened, why he ended things and just… vanished, you aren’t so stuck on that anymore. Four years is a long time.
You aren’t mad about it, it just never fully left your head.
“How was school?” He asks. Safe, easy.
“Well, I graduated. So, that’s something.”
A wink of a smile has the corners of his mouth twitching up. You’re different, but you’re also the same girl he knew. It’s nice to see again, to have hope that he didn’t destroy you.
“I knew you would,” he scratches the back of his neck. He’s not used to feeling so awkward around you. “You can write your own essays, after all.”
That one makes you huff a laugh, makes you think back to late nights spent helping him fix up his writing. Red pen doodles and way too many distractions.
“One of my many talents,” you say.
There’s another pause, a stillness that feels so wrong for the both of you. He put the distance there, and he hates himself for it. “I’ll be seeing you around then?”
“Yeah, Steve. I’m home.”
Yes, he thinks. You are home. Hawkins was missing something without you in it. Or maybe that was just him. Missing something without you.
Just as you’re pulled away into a conversation with Robin and Max, Steve grasps your wrist gently. Your skin burns with the familiarity of his touch. Aches with the memory.
“It’s good to see you, Ace.”
Then, in a blink, he lets you go.
When you turn away, Eddie comes up beside Steve, claps a hand on his back. “Nice, man. Not weird at all.”
“Shut it, Munson.”
Steve has a hard time keeping his eyes off of you. He searches for you when he hears you laugh, can feel his pulse jump when you throw your head back the way you always have. He lets his eyes linger when he knows he shouldn’t.
You catch him once. You can feel his stare on you like a breeze, tickling the back of your neck. When you turn towards him your eyes lock, just for a moment.
-
Hawkins is mostly the same. The stores on Main Street still have worn awnings, letters faded and colors dimmed. The arcade sign still flickers, Enzo’s is still the best restaurant. The movies where Steve used to take you on dates, his house with his BMW in the driveway.
It’s hard to be back and not let Steve bleed into everything.
At school, it was easy not to think about him. You’d bury yourself in studying and projects. Here, he’s everywhere you look. The town is painted with memories of you and him. He’s written all over the place.
You thought you were over what happened, that you could come home and not let it phase you. You had no idea it’d be like this.
Despite it all, you’re glad to be home. You like waking up to the peacefulness of light wind and leaves rustling. It’s a lot nicer than a dorm building full of students and the constant noise of the city.
You’re tremendously happy to be so close to your friends again, too. There’s no more worrying about whether or not you’ll see them anytime soon, no more sporadic phone calls that just make you miss them more.
But still, there’s that empty space. Steve-shaped.
The next time you see him you’d decided to visit Robin at work. It took you about a week of being home to get yourself to go into Family Video, knowing Steve works there. You have to get used to him again.
Sure enough, when you walked in, there he stood. Green vest and all.
When the bell above the door jingles to signal your entrance, Steve turns to look at you. He sets down the box of stock he’d been holding, and your eyes follow the way his arms flex before you can tell them not to.
“Ace, hi.”
“Hey,” you send a short wave his way, rocking on your feet. “I’m just meeting Robin for lunch.”
He probably knows that, but you say it anyway, trying to fill the void of silence that hums between you.
“Yeah. She’s in the back already,” he says. “I can show you.”
“Sure, thanks.”
He almost places a hand at the small of your back to guide you, just like he used to. It’d be so natural, so simple. Instead, he clenches his fist by his side and shuffles in front of you, nodding his head for you to
follow.
“So, um,” he stops in front of the door to the back, turning to face you. “We still do movie nights. All of
us, like we used to. You should come.”
“Are you sure?”
Movie nights are always at Steve’s, and you don’t want to be there if it’ll cause any problems, as much as you’ve missed the sense of tradition. Routine.
“There’s an open spot on the couch for you anyway. Always has been.”
When you were away, you worried your friends would replace you. Forget about you, even. That clearly wasn’t the case.
“I’d love to go. If you’re sure it’s okay.”
“As long as you still don’t mind Eddie talking through the important parts.”
You shake your head, a small, close-mouthed smile on your face.
“Wouldn’t be a movie night without it.”
The bell above the door rings again, and Steve turns to see the customer. “I should get back.”
You nod. You watch him go, watch him greet the woman who walked in with his classic smile.
You just have to get used to him again, that’s all.
-
Walking the steps up to the Harrington’s front door is something you’ve done time and time again. So, it shouldn’t feel so odd, really.
It used to be an almost daily occurrence. Now, it takes you some mental preparation before you can bring yourself to knock on the door. This time, it isn’t Steve who answers, it’s Robin. You’re grateful for it, because stepping into his house again is already a bunch to take in.
“You came!” She says, grinning.
“Of course I did. I missed movie nights a bunch.”
You really, really did.
While you had a couple of friends in Indianapolis, the connections were shallow. Especially compared to what you have here. There, they were friendships formed from convenience. Roommates or project partners. It was a lot lonelier than you let on.
“We missed you, too.” Robin walks you into the living room, where cheers of your name ensue.
“Look who it is,” Eddie speaks from where he sits on the ground in front of the TV, setting things up.
There’s a shift from the loud, giddy greetings when Steve walks into the room, bowl of popcorn in hand. It’s like everyone’s waiting for one of you to burst.
“Hey. You made it,” Steve says. No bursting, just some sort of tension that hasn’t gone away since you saw him at your party.
“Yeah. Thanks again for inviting me.”
“Surprised one of them didn’t beat me to it,” he nods at your friends that are scattered across the couches. Your friends whose eyes are ping-ponging between you both.
It’s almost like you can feel everyone take a breath of relief when you plant yourself by the armrest of the sofa. When you shoot Steve a small, barely-there smile. A peace offering.
Halfway through the movie—broken up by constant Eddie commentary, and various ways of someone telling him to stuff it—Steve notices the way you’re curled up, cardigan pulled tight over your body.
He reaches across Robin to hand you a blanket wordlessly. She nudges his shoulder when you aren’t looking, gives him a look that tells him she knows something, even if he doesn’t.
He’s always been attentive, but you’re surprised when the soft fabric is passed over. You wonder if he realizes it’s the blanket you’d always reach for when you were over. If he realizes he handed you the one you’d cuddled him under countless times.
He doesn’t, you’re sure. Why on earth would he remember those things? Or even care?
After that night, the group slowly becomes whole again. The others stop planning separate things with you or Steve. It’s like they waited for you to get acclimated to being around each other again, tested the waters.
It’s as sweet as it is sad. You never wanted to mess anything up, make anything harder.
Though you see Steve a lot more often, your interactions with him remain short and distant. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to feeling so far away from him.
While you were away, over time, the memories became less vivid, as did the pictures that still sit in your bedroom at home. Sun damaged and faded. Your feelings, though, they never really dimmed, only pushed to the back of your mind and shoved into a box labeled Steve.
That box has been bursting at the seams.
Still, you try to keep it shut, to push it all aside and be friends with him again. Or, friendly, at the very least.
Steve keeps a framed picture of you in a drawer in his bedside table. Maybe that’s weird. It used to sit atop of the table, but he moved it when it got too hard to look at your face without thinking of how it looked when you cried.
Having you around again is hard, but it’s more so a relief. He’s missed you so, so much, and even though things aren’t the same and they might never be again, he’ll take you in his life any way he can have you. And this is a start.
The hardest part, he thinks, is burying all the things he never got to say. I’m sorry, I just wanted what was best for you, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. It’s no use now, he knows that, so he swallows the words down. They make his stomach ache.
He needs to distract himself from it all, because it’s too much. Seeing your face almost every day again, not being able to reach out and hold it like he used to.
It’s way too much.
-
You got a job at Enzo’s to keep yourself busy.
While you’d love to stay buried in your bed all day, or walk around aimlessly until you end up at Lover’s Lake, sitting by the water and listening to it move, your parents decided it’d be better for you to do something valuable with your time.
Besides, waitressing isn’t so bad. You mostly work nights, allowing you the sleep-ins you love so much, there’s not so much pressure when you already know most of the people you serve, and the tips are always nice.
It’s mostly a breeze—besides a spill incident—until Steve shows up there on a date. Seated in your section.
Your coworker had warned you, “new table for you. Looks like a date.” And there he was. His hair done like always (does he still use Farrah Fawcett spray?) and his dress shirt a little wrinkled.
When it’s time to head over, you shut your eyes and take a grounding breath, slap on your customer service smile. You introduce yourself like you always do, the ‘I’ll be your waitress for this evening’ spiel.
Steve looks up from the menu as soon as he hears your voice. He’s stunned, eyes wide and mouth ever-so-slightly agape while he looks at you. He tries to recover quickly. If he’d known you were working tonight he never would have brought his date here, never would have subjected you to that on purpose. He feels like shit.
“Can I get you guys anything to drink?” You say. Waitress persona engaged, praying your face doesn’t look forced.
She orders first. Her voice is sweet, and she’s pretty. Why'd she have to be so pretty?
“Just water for me. Thanks, Ace,” Steve says, letting the nickname slip. It’s like he can’t hold it in around you.
“‘Course.” You turn quickly to get their drinks.
“Ace?” Steve’s date, Becky, asks.
“We’re friends. From school. Just a nickname.”
He simplifies it. There’s no point in telling the whole story. It’s over—he’s had to remind himself of that constantly—and it’s his fault. Not the type of thing he needs to share on a first date, that’s for sure.
“Oh, okay. So, what are you getting?” Somehow, she accepts the answer easily.
You shouldn’t feel so shaken by this. Really, you shouldn’t. You were with Steve ages ago, and it’s been over. You don’t have any sort of claim over him anymore. None.
So why is your stomach twisting every time you catch him smiling at something she says?
All you know is that it won’t do you any good to think about that too much. You busy yourself with getting their drinks instead. You approach the table carefully, not wanting to spill anything.
“For you,” you set her drink down. She thanks you. She’s nice, too. “And, water for you.”
“Thank you.”
“You guys ready to order, or do you need a couple more minutes?”
It’s like you’re on autopilot, repeating the same phrases you do to every single table, hoping that it comes out sounding natural.
“I think we’re good,” Steve says, gesturing for his date to go first.
He almost feels like he should apologize to you. Then again, maybe he’s reading into things too far. As much as he feels like he can tell when you’re uncomfortable, when your smile is forced, he has no idea if your habits are the same as they used to be.
You’re cautious not to let your hands touch when you collect the menu from Steve.
The rest of their dinner is much the same, and you’re grateful any time you can distract yourself with a different table. Your actions are stiff, your words practically robotic.
Still, before he leaves, Steve leaves you a tip and a scrawled note on a crumpled receipt: ‘Thank you. Sorry for the ambush. -Steve.’
You still have notes from him, in that same, charmingly messy handwriting, buried in a shoebox in your closet. Notes you didn’t have time to get rid of in your rush to move. Notes you should probably get rid of.
Not only did he leave you a note, he was outside waiting for you when your shift was over.
He wasn’t going to wait. He was going to leave it at the note and hope that you weren’t bothered as much as he thought you might be. Maybe it was stupid to think you’d be affected by him being with someone else in front of you after all this time, but he couldn’t ignore the instinct he got when he saw the look on your face. The guilt he felt.
He catches you as you walk out the door, startling you a bit, “Ace, wait up.”
“God, you scared me. What are you doing here?”
“Sorry,” he says, falling into step beside you as you walk to your car. He’d parked two spots over. “Actually, I just wanted to say that. Sorry, I mean.”
“You already said that,” he tilts his head, a question. “On your note.”
“I didn’t want you to think I did that on purpose. I didn’t know you worked at Enzo’s until tonight, actually.”
“I haven’t been for long,” you amend. “I’m not upset with you, Steve.”
The words hold a lot more meaning than you expected. You really aren’t upset with him, not over tonight, and not over what happened years ago. You’re more upset with yourself for letting it get to you even now.
“Good. That’s- I never wanted to hurt you.”
His words are heavy, too. You’re too tired to hold the weight.
“What about your date?” You stop next to your car. He stops, too.
“I drove her home already. Came back after.”
Really, he was halfway home after dropping off Becky, but he couldn’t shake his worry that he’d caused even more strain on your relationship. He turned around without a second thought.
“She seems nice,” you say.
“Yeah,” he looks around the parking lot, stares at the streetlight for a second. “So, we’re okay?”
“We’re okay,” you confirm.
You can’t help but hope that saying it out loud will make things feel better with him. That maybe, you could be some sort of friends again.
He nods, “okay. Sorry again,” he searches for his keys in his pocket, “have a good night, Ace.”
He walks the short distance to his car while you fumble to unlock yours. Climbing in and shutting the door, you let your head fall against the steering wheel, forehead pressed to it.
What a night.
-
Steve’s seen Becky a few times since the date at Enzo’s.
She is nice, and he does like her, but he hasn’t been able to let her kiss him anywhere other than the cheek. So far, she hasn’t said anything, but he knows that he won’t be able to dodge her without question for much longer.
When you were gone, though it took time, he was able to be with other people. It never lasted long, and he rarely went through with things without thinking of you at least once. He can’t even give someone a peck on the mouth.
It’s like as soon as he thinks he can lean in and do it, his mind is all Ace Ace Ace, and he finds he can’t.
He’s trying his best to ignore it, to hope that in getting used to you being back, he’ll get used to not being with you, too. So far, it hasn’t been working very well. He dreams more often than not, and even in sleep, he can’t seem to escape your face.
Instead of digging into whatever mess he’s sure that’ll cause, he’s been seeing Becky.
It’s unfair, he knows it is. To her and to you, but he doesn’t know what else to do. He isn’t thinking straight because you’ve rushed back into his life so quickly he can’t catch up. He’s trying to bury the feelings he has for you by focusing on someone else.
Though, maybe focusing isn’t the right word, because his mind still wanders to you. A bunch.
He’s confused and he’s scared and he misses you. He doesn’t know what to make of everything that’s pushing to the surface once again now that you’re home, and he doesn’t want to because he’s afraid of what it’s sure to become. What might’ve never even left.
He misses you but he can’t do anything about that. So, Becky it is.
-
The breeze tickles your cheeks as you make your way through the trailer park in search of any of your friends.
Somehow, Eddie and his band managed to make their own gig out by the picnic tables, and, of course, he’d invited the group to come watch. When you first became friends with Eddie, he was reluctant to let you all in on his music. Now, though, he lets everyone know there’s a spot for them saved at every performance.
You follow the noise, finding where a small crowd of people has formed by the tables that have been pushed together to serve as a stage. Probably an unsafe one, at that, but it’s Eddie. He cheers when he spots you from where he stands on the middle table.
“She’s here!”
“Can't miss the first show I’m back for, can I?”
“The rockstar would not have that,” Robin says, giving you a quick side hug.
“Thank you for calling me a rockstar,” Eddie replies.
You say your hellos to the others, Nancy, sitting on the bench attached to the table Eddie’s stood on, Jonathan, fiddling with his camera.
“Is Steve not coming?” You ask. Hopefully in a casual way.
“No, he is,” Nancy says.
“Likes to be fashionably late,” is what Robin has to say.
You nod, turning your attention to Eddie, “so, how many of these songs are new?”
“To these fools, none,” he points lazily around the group. “To you, all of them.” He smiles, and it makes you smile, too. You’ve missed being able to support him in person.
“Can’t wait to hear them, then.”
“Dingus!” Robin yells happily.
You know she’s talking about Steve. You turn around to find him. Probably too quickly.
“Hey guys,” he waves. It’s then you notice that he’s not alone. His date that he took to Enzo’s is with him. She waves, too, her arm curled around Steve’s. “This is Becky.”
She’s met with polite greetings. Your mouth, for some reason, stays shut.
Robin comes to stand beside you. She looks at your expression, the shock that you shake your head to clear, the tiniest bit of hurt that lingers in your eyes. You look at her, and she raises her eyebrows at you, are you okay? It’s silent, but you know it’s what she’s asking.
Isn’t that a question. You don’t know why your stomach sinks when you see her with him. Again. Well, maybe you do know, you just don’t want to accept it. The feelings you’d had for Steve were meant to be long, long gone.
Only, since being home, you’ve realized they aren’t.
Even though things with Steve have been far from the same as before, even as when you were friends, he’s still Steve. He’s the kind boy you knew, only older. He still cares about the kids the way an older sibling would, he still puts his friends before anything, and he’s still the greatest person you know.
You simply shrug at Robin.
Then, Becky’s in front of you, “we already met, right?”
“Yeah, um, hi.”
“Hi. It’s nice to at least have a familiar face here.”
God, you want to dislike her so bad, but you really can’t. She’s kind, and she’s clearly making an effort to make a good impression. It’s annoying.
Steve knows he probably shouldn’t have brought her with him, but she’s been asking to meet his friends so frequently and he figured that Eddie’s gig would be as good a time as ever. At least here, there’s a crowd to hide in.
He really does like Becky, just not in the way he’s supposed to. He thinks he might’ve spent all of those feelings on you, and there’s no way he’s getting them back.
Eddie jumps down from the table and pulls Steve aside, “what are you doing?”
“Dunno what you mean.” He does, actually. Only, he doesn’t know what he’s doing.
“Come on, man. You can't tell me you don’t see the way she looks at you,” Eddie’s not talking about Becky. He’s talking about you.
“She doesn’t look at me. Not like that.”
“Sometimes you really are an idiot, you know? She looks at you like you put the fucking moon in the sky, all melty and shit.”
“She used to look at me like that. I fucked it up. That’s gone, okay?”
“Is it gone for you?” Eddie says.
“Doesn’t matter,” Steve says. When he looks at you, however, it feels like it matters. A lot.
“Just saying. Think you might’ve brought the wrong lady.”
Steve already feels bad about what he’s trying to do with Becky. Seeing her to distract himself from you. He hates that even his friends are seeing through it. Is it really that obvious?
Eddie turns away to finish setting up with the band. Steve sees Becky talking to you of all people and he almost smacks himself right there. He’s so, so stupid. He walks over, into the mess he’s created.
“Hey, Ace,” he nods at you quickly, then turns to Becky. “Why don’t we go find a spot to sit?”
“We aren’t watching here?”
Steve looks between you and her quickly. Really, he’s just trying to save you from having to talk to her. He can still tell when you’re itching to get out of a conversation.
“Think the speakers might be too loud for you, babe.”
You miss whatever reply she gives him, stuck on his use of the word babe. The last time you heard it come from his mouth, he was saying it to you. It stings even though it shouldn’t.
It’s over. It’s been over. So why is it so hard to forget about it?
-
You never really got used to seeing Steve with Becky.
He didn’t bring her around often—maybe for your sake—but when he did, you’d find yourself keeping your distance. At least one person between you and them, like a buffer.
It felt like the progress you’d made with Steve, with not feeling so far away around him, was disappearing every time you saw her standing with him. You hated it, how you let things affect you.
A couple of weeks went on that way. Then, you got a phone call.
You’d been sitting on your bed, back against the headboard, doing absolutely nothing. The shrill ringing came from your bedside table, and you leaned over to pick it up mindlessly.
“Hello?”
“Ace.”
It’s Steve. He hasn’t called you since you’ve been back. His utterance of your nickname sounds like a breath of relief.
“Steve? What’s going on?”
“Can I come see you?”
“What?” You’re convinced you misheard him, or that something’s wrong. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, promise,” he pauses. “Well, I broke up with Becky. But I’m good, okay?”
He broke up with Becky? He broke up with Becky and decided to call you. You’re not quite sure what to do with that.
“You- did something happen?”
“No, no. Just- I’ll explain everything. Let me see you.”
It's hard to say no to him, and you can’t help but be worried. You say yes, a quiet word whispered into the phone.
“Thank you,” he says. “See you soon, Ace.”
“Bye.”
You barely get the word out before the sound of his phone being hung up echoes in your ear. It’s only then, in the silence of your room, that you notice your heart pounding, a heavy thump in your chest.
Steve knows it’s selfish to want to see you now, after he’s just broken up with someone. It’s the first actual breakup he’s had since being with you, and yet, he’s not even upset. He just wants to see you.
Sure, he liked Becky, but she could never really erase his thoughts of you. He felt awful about staying with her for the reasons he did. So, he broke it off.
Now, he's knocking on your window.
The tapping wouldn’t be so noticeable if you hadn’t been waiting for it. He never did like using the front door.
You open the window for him, move backwards a couple of steps to give him enough room to stumble inside, hair a little messy, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, devastatingly pretty.
It brings you back to high school. Steve, sneaking through your window at night just to fall asleep with you, his arms a safety net, his steady breathing a lullaby. Steve, peering at you through the glass with that grin of his. Steve.
“You know you can use the door, right?” You say.
“Not my style,” he takes a second to look at you. “Hi, Ace.”
You shift on your feet.
“Hi.”
“I know this is…” He trails off. There’s not really a single word for it. “Thanks for letting me come.”
“I’ll always be here for you.”
You mean it. Even after everything, he’s Steve over it all. Your Steve, who was the greatest friend you ever had and, somehow, an even better boyfriend. He’s never been horrible to you; not even close.
Sure, he broke your heart and fell away from your life right after that, but you know him. You know there’s something he hasn’t told you about that, and if letting him in through your window again is a step closer to hearing it, you’re willing to take it.
“Even after what I did?”
“I don’t think you could ever really lose me, Steve.”
That hits him in the gut, a painful twist. Because he thought he did. Yes, he broke up with you (he regretted it very quickly), but he’d fought the urge to pick up the phone and call you at school more times than he can count.
“You’re a good person, Ace.”
He’s tiptoeing around whatever he wants to say to you. You talk softly, “why’d you want to see me?”
“I just needed to make sure you knew something.”
“What is it?”
“Just- I never kissed Becky. I haven’t kissed anybody since we, um, broke up.”
It’s the first time either of you have said it so plainly. There’s a wince on his face when he does. Small, but you catch it all the same.
“Robin said you were dating people, though.”
“Yeah, but I never kissed them. Ever. I couldn't.”
He slept with people—which was still hard—but to him, nothing feels as intimate as a kiss. He could never bring himself to cross that line with someone else. Not after how you would kiss him. The way everything else would melt away.
“I need you to know that. And I broke up with Becky because I couldn’t be with her without thinking of-” he stops, shakes his head, like he can’t get the words out. His eyes are holding onto yours when he says, “-someone else.”
“You climbed through my window just to tell me that?”
“I guess I did.”
He hadn’t thought about what comes next, what to do or say. Hell, he could barely even say what he meant in the first place. He wanted to say he’d been thinking of you, but the word got stuck in his throat. He hopes you can still read him enough to know what he meant.
“So, you were with Becky… why, exactly?”
“I thought- I don’t know. I thought I’d be able to push, um, someone else out of my mind if I was with her. I wasn’t, obviously.”
You’re practically speechless. Never would you have imagined that Steve was still thinking of you in any way, let alone so much so that he couldn’t fully give himself to anyone else.
Then again, you were never able to do that, either.
“I don’t know what to say,” you shrug, shoulder to your cheek.
“You don’t have to say anything, really,” he says, though there’s a sadness in his eyes that makes your heart squeeze painfully in your chest. You hate to be the one putting it there. “I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize to me, Steve. We aren’t together, I know that.”
He hasn’t been able to forget about that for a day. It’s like his life without you in it was a permanent winter. The snow never melting, the cold sinking into his bones. He hadn’t even realized it until you came back.
The wind picked up, frostbite ate away at him. Then, just like that, the sun was shining again. He hopes the snow will thaw soon.
He feels like an idiot right now. An idiot who can't spit out the right words and who can't leave you alone even when he knows he should.
“I should go.”
“Steve-”
“No, I’ll go. I’m sorry for dropping all of that on you.”
He’s turning his back to you, opening the window, worrying you all over again.
“You can stay.” Please, stay.
“I’m really sorry, Ace.”
Sorry for letting you go, sorry for disappearing, sorry for being a coward, sorry for fucking things up even now.
By the time you gather your wits enough to walk to the window, he’s crossing your lawn quickly. You watch him go until his figure fades into the night, the wind a low whisper in the air.
-
You do a lot of thinking that night, replaying the conversation over and over in your head. After what might be twenty minutes or two hours, you find you aren’t upset with Steve in the slightest. If anything, you’re worried.
And maybe, selfishly, a little hopeful, too.
It’s not even the breakup itself. It’s the way he spoke, the way his eyes lingered and his frustration seemed to soften just a little when he looked at you. It’s the way he had to make sure you knew he hasn’t kissed anyone since you, that he called and came over just to tell you that.
Maybe you should be angry, but all you feel when you think about Steve is something you’d convinced yourself was long gone. A feeling with wings, fluttering.
You decide that you need to talk to him again.
That decision has you walking through the door of Family Video early the next day, when you’re sure it won’t be busy. You had to double check with Robin that Steve was the one opening (you could practically see her knowing smirk through the phone), and sure enough, he stands behind the counter.
The bell above the door jingles, cutting through the silence of the store. Steve glances up to find you, rubbing his tired eyes to make sure you’re really there.
“Am I dreaming?” He says.
Steve was convinced you’d never want to see his face again after the shit he pulled last night. After dumping information on you that you hadn’t asked for, then leaving as soon as he got scared.
“If you are, so am I.”
“Robin’s not here.”
“I know. I wanted to talk to you, if that’s okay?”
“I didn’t think you’d want to after…” he trails off, like he’s embarrassed to have to bring it up.
“I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
“I feel like I should be asking you.”
“Steve.”
His name still sounds the best in your voice, he thinks.
“I’m okay, promise. Last night, I guess I just- I missed you.”
“I missed you, too. While I was gone.” Every single day since I left, I missed you.
You’ve both felt it for a long time, but now’s the first time someone’s been brave enough to say it. The words settle in the air for a moment, hanging between you.
“I’m sorry, Ace. For everything.”
You want to fall into his arms as easily as you used to, to squeeze him and tell him it’s okay, it can be okay, if you try hard enough. The counter standing between you stops you from it, maybe for the better.
“Do you think- do you think maybe we can be friends again?”
I don’t know if I can just be your friend, he thinks. Not after knowing what it’s like to kiss you and wake up beside you, to touch you and love you. If it’s the only way to keep you around, though, he’ll give it all he has.
“I’d like that.”
Your smile is almost shy, but it’s there.
“We used to be better at this. Talking, I mean,” you say, trying to be light.
“We’ll get better again.”
It’s quiet again, save for the murmur of whatever movie Steve chose for the morning playing on the TV.
“I hope you know I haven’t been, like, holding a grudge, or anything. I forgave you a long time ago.”
You had to, even when it still hurt, even when you still wonder why things changed so quickly. He’s a human as much as you are, and letting things fester for years wouldn't do either of you any good.
Still, like any wound, it still bleeds from time to time.
“Doesn’t change that I’m sorry, Ace.”
You shy away from the sincerity in his stare, from the brown in his eyes that could so easily draw you back into him completely.
He bends to catch your eye, though, making sure you know he means it.
-
Letting yourself get close to Steve again is easy, it’s the friendship that’s hard.
He’s a good friend, you see it in his interactions with everyone around you. He’s a good friend and still, you can’t stop thinking about the kind of boyfriend he is. Caring and loving, full of touches to give, a hand on you whenever it could be. You miss the warmth of that hand.
You keep that to yourself , though, because things are better. So much better.
You and Steve don’t avoid each other anymore, the smiles aren’t so forced or small, the words not so careful. The only subject you stay away from is the breakup, and even then, you don’t think about it so much now that he’s around again. You think about everything before that. The good and the in love, sticky and sweet.
Tonight, he’s convinced you to come along and chauffeur the kids to the arcade. In turn, you’ve convinced him to go inside with you.
The various neon lights bathe your skin, blues and oranges, pinks and greens. You can't help but think they glow a little nicer on Steve’s face.
“What’s the first game gonna be?” You turn to look at him over your shoulder as you walk between the rows of games.
“Your choice, Ace. This was your idea.”
“Fine by me,” you shrug a shoulder, grinning.
Falling into conversation with Steve proves to still feel natural. You’ve gotten the chance to spend time with him more since you talked that morning at Family Video, and it’s paid off. Light teasing and check-ins are what they used to be before.
The part that still makes your heart beat faster, almost like it’s trying to find his, is what hangs in the silence. There's knowledge there; the silence used to be comfortable, and now, it’s full of questions and tension. What’s too much? What crosses the line of friendship you’ve had to draw?
If you’re being honest, being Steve’s friend almost makes you miss him more. You had to do it this way, though, if only to protect yourself from losing him ever again.
You’ve been pushing away any thoughts of Steve as a boyfriend as far away as you can.
“Okay,” you stop in front of Pac-Man.
“A classic,” he nods, putting change into the slot. “Ladies first.”
“Scared, Harrington?”
“Of you?” He shakes his head. “Never.”
Of what he feels for you, maybe.
You play well, and Steve watches your hands move as you do. He watches your eyes as they flit about the screen, your tongue poking between your lips in concentration. Watches, still, when you throw your head back and groan when you lose.
“My turn,” he says, bumping you over with his hips.
Despite his confidence, Steve loses really, really fast.
“It’s broken,” he declares.
“It’s not,” you say. “Try again.”
“You just like to see me lose.”
You wiggle your way in front of him so that his arms cage you in, one on either side of you, leaning on the game. “I’ll show you.”
He hopes he isn’t breathing as hard as he thinks he is. He can feel the ghost of your back against his chest, so, so close. He slips another coin into the slot and lets you guide his hands to the controls.
His hands are just as warm as you remember. Solid and softer than they look. You refrain from interlocking your fingers with his and focus on guiding him through the game. It’d be so easy to hold his hand, though. Muscle memory.
This time around, even when the screen tells him ‘game over,’ Steve feels like he’s won something at the slightest bit of contact you’d initiated.
Dustin finds the two of you, still playing Pac-Man, and taps his wrist. Duty calls.
After dropping the kids off, the car much quieter, you let yourself look at Steve as he drives. His side profile, the slope of his nose and line of his jaw, the way he squints at road signs.
“You should be wearing your glasses,” you say. You’re not even sure if he still has them.
“You know I hate those things.”
It’s true, you do know that. He barely even wore them around you when you’d been dating. They made him shy, even though you told him he looks pretty either way, any way.
You find that you still know a lot of things.
You still know him. You know that he owns a pair of reading glasses. You know that he scratches the back of his neck when he’s nervous. You know that he knuckles at his eyes when he doesn’t get enough sleep. You know that he sunburns easiest on his nose, cheeks, and shoulders. You know him. All the small things, some he may not even know himself.
You might’ve missed some stuff, but really, you still know him. You still love him, too.
That realization hits you, a gust of wind strong enough to knock you off-balance if you weren’t sitting. You’ve been trying and trying to keep it all away. Yet, here you are, looking at the strand of hair that falls over Steve's forehead, realizing you love him all over again in the passenger seat of his BMW.
Maybe you never really stopped.
“Ace, did you hear me?”
“Hm?” You blink and suddenly he’s looking at you, too. And the car’s not moving. When did that happen?
“You zoned out on me, I think,” he runs a hand through his hair, pushing that strand you'd been focused on back into place. “We’re here.”
Your house, he means.
“Sorry. Thank you for driving,” you say, reaching for the handle and popping the door open. You bonk your head in your haste to get out.
“Shit! You okay?” He says, his hand reaching for you even though you’re too far to touch.
“Yup! Never better.”
Terrified by the four letter word that hasn’t left your head since it came back in, you can’t help but try to get away from Steve, from the boy who’s drawn the feeling from you in the first place without even trying. You hurry to the door with a rushed ‘bye!’
Steve stares at your front door even after you’ve closed it, eyebrows scrunched and mouth in a confused pout. He wonders what you were thinking about as he tried to grab your attention the whole way home.
-
Steve’s made a habit of visiting you at work.
If you’re working during the day, he’ll drive over on his lunch breaks and be sure to be seated in your section. If you’re working evenings, he’ll make some excuse about not wanting to cook dinner and still, he requests your section.
He‘s been coming so often that the hostesses don’t even wait for him to ask, they just nod and seat him at one of your tables.
You’ve had a lot of time to let your rediscovered love for Steve simmer, but it’s always there, making you smile like an idiot when you see him, making you stop yourself from reaching for his hand whenever it’s close enough.
It was naive of you to think you could limit yourself to friendly feelings for him. You know that now.
Walking out of the back, you find him sitting at what has become his usual table. A small round one, usually for two. The chair across from him empty. You like that better than when Becky was the one sitting in it.
“I’m starting to think you have no kitchen at all,” you say, standing behind the empty seat, leaning a hand on top of it.
“You caught me.”
“Seriously, you know you don’t have to come here to see me.”
“I want to come here to see you.”
Really, at this point, Steve thinks he’d be happy to visit you anywhere. Because of that, he’s definitely spending way too much money at Enzo’s.
“Okay then,” you tuck your hair behind your ear, then grab your notepad to write down his order. “What’ll it be this time?”
As much as Steve wishes you could sit down with him, he knows you have a job to do, so he gives you his order and takes any minute of conversation you can give him.
He watches you tend to the other tables you have, your smile and the way you talk, your mannerisms and the pattern of your steps. Often, he wonders if he’d still be sitting here, watching you with something in his eyes that can only be described as longing, if he never broke up with you that day. He likes to think he would be, only he’d be allowed to kiss you goodbye the way he so often wants to.
Maybe it’s wishful thinking to believe he could get to do that again, one day.
Since he felt your hands over his those weeks ago at the arcade, he’s decided he’ll do whatever it takes to win you back. He’ll wait as long as he needs to, and do his best to prove that he won’t hurt you again.
Steve’s never stopped loving you, not for a second, and seeing your face again only reminded him of that. Being your friend again only amplified it.
Even worse, all of your friends are well aware of this. They never let him hear the end of it.
“Here you go,” you say, putting his food in front of him.
He shoots you a quick smile, “thank you.”
“‘Course. And don’t bother paying this time, it’s on me.”
“Don’t do that, I’m paying.”
“I already did it, okay? Just shut up and let me.”
When you walk away, he shakes his head and smiles at your retreating figure. Classic Ace, he thinks, so insistent on doing nice things. Yeah, he’ll wait years if he has to.
You chat with him when you can, telling him about a customer who’d yelled at you earlier in your shift over something so small, you can’t even remember why they were angry in the first place. He laughed through your story and offered to find the person and beat them up for you.
You reminded him that he usually loses fights.
A stern talking to, then, he’d said.
You giggled. Laughs like that came easy with Steve.
You were busy when he left, but when you went over to clean his table you’d found enough money left behind to pay for his food and give you a tip. You rolled your eyes at that. That’s Steve, always being the one to take care of everyone else. He can’t even let you pay for one damm meal.
He’d also left a note scrawled on a Family Video sticky note.
Thanks for letting me bug you again. Hope you’re not sick of me! -Steve x (and keep your money, please).
You folded it into a neat square and put it in your back pocket. This was a habit of his, too; leaving notes behind after he’d leave. So far, you’ve kept them all, in that same shoebox in your closet from high school.
You’re absolutely hopeless.
-
Steve didn’t have an excuse to call you, he just really wanted to see you. Or, hear your voice, at least.
“Hello?” You picked up after a couple rings.
“Ace. You busy today?”
“Mmm apart from laying down all day, no.”
“You wanna come lay down all day here?”
If he couldn’t hear you then, you would drop your face into your pillow and squeal. Instead, you press your free hand to your cheek and try to suppress your stupid grin.
“I guess I can shuffle some things around.”
“You’re awful,” he says. “I’ll see you soon?”
“Yep.”
A click and it’s quiet again.
It’s not even half an hour later that you’re knocking on the Harrington’s door. Steve opens up quickly (he’d been standing near the door waiting for you) and moves aside to let you in.
Steve scans your outfit as you walk ahead of him. You’re clad in slouchy sweats. He thinks you look beautiful. He thinks it all of the time, but there’s something about you being comfortable enough with him not to dress up that warms him from the inside out.
It reminds him of how you used to walk around his house, whenever his parents weren’t there, in your underwear and his softest t-shirt.
Baby steps, he thinks.
“Are you hungry?” He asks as you plop down onto his couch.
“I'm okay. A little tired.”
“I did ruin your plans of laying around, didn't I?”
“Ruin’s not the right word,” you say. You’d much rather be in his company than buried in your bed, anyway.
He sits next to you after turning on the TV, letting whatever’s playing stay on. There’s a respectable distance between you, your thighs close, but not touching.
“Are you happy you came back here?” Steve turns his head toward you. Here, as in Hawkins. Here, as in with him.
Your head pivots toward him, cheek on your shoulder. Your eyes find his. “Yes. Really happy.”
“Me too.”
There are a million things you could say, but then, in that moment, it feels like you don’t have to. Something silent is being shared. You look back at the TV and sink into the cushions.
As time goes on, your eyes grow heavier, blinking slowly trying to stay awake. Steve notices when your head falls forward a little and you force it back up.
“You’re tired.”
“Worked the closing shift last night.”
“You can lay down. I meant it when I said you
could do that here.”
“I’ll fall asleep.”
“That’s kinda the point.”
You frown at him. “But then you’ll be all alone.”
“Just lay down, Ace.”
You roll your eyes but do it anyway. You’d actually been ready to nap when Steve called, but figured sleep could wait.
He tries not to overthink it when he gently places a hand on the side of your head, urging you to use his lap as your pillow. You go easily and blame it on your sleepy mind.
Instinctively, once you’re settled with your cheek on his thigh, Steve pets your hair from your face. He pulls his hand back, afraid of overstepping, but you miss his touch.
“No, don’t. Feels nice.”
“Okay,” he almost whispers.
Steve’s hand goes back to your hair, pushing it from your face, letting his fingers get tangled in it before pulling them back and doing it again. You fall asleep quickly, surrounded by Steve’s scent.
You nap for about forty minutes. Steve’s hand doesn’t stop at all, afraid that you’d wake up. He hasn’t paid much attention to the TV. Instead, he’s been tracing the details of your face over and over with his eyes.
Your eyelashes kissing the skin of your under eyes, the slope of your nose, the way your lips are slightly parted and pouting. He’s known it for years now, but you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.
All soft and, by his standard, absolutely perfect.
Self-indulgently, he lets his hand wander from your hair, the back of his index finger tracing a delicate line from your forehead, down your nose, and across your cheek. You stir and he feels guilty.
“Did I wake you?”
You blink your eyes open and squint, turning so you lay on your back rather than your side, looking up at him. “Nuh-uh,” you say, even though he did.
If you were woken up like that every day, well, you’d become a morning person.
“Liar.”
“Am not.” He shakes his head, you yawn. “How long did I sleep?”
“Not long. You feel better?”
“Much,” you nod, even though there’s a kink in your neck from the way you had it perched on his lap. You don’t care, it was the best sleep you’d had for a while.
You sit up and stretch until something cracks.
“Thanks for being my pillow.”
“Steve Harrington, human pillow, at your service.”
You push his shoulder lightly, “dork.”
You both laugh lightly. The sound fades when you realize how close your faces are. You reach up and brush the skin under his eye with your thumb.
“Eyelash,” you explain.
“Make a wish.”
When you were young, you wished on every birthday cake candle, every shooting star, that you’d find your person. Then, in your time with Steve, you wished to keep it. Now, as you blow the lash off your finger, you wish to have it back.
“Done.”
“What’d you wish for?”
“If it ever comes true, I’ll tell you.”
He nods, the tips of your noses brush. You can't stop your eyes from flicking to his mouth with him this close, you can feel his breaths, warm puffs of air against your skin.
Steve’s hand creeps up to cradle the back of your neck so gently you could cry. He uses it to guide you forward until your forehead is pushed against his.
“Steve.”
The whisper of his name is what snaps the rubber band. Steve tips your head up and kisses you.
It’s everything you remembered, and everything you’d forgotten, too. His lips are still soft, they still fit with yours the way puzzle pieces click together. Over time, you forgot how his feelings poured out of him when he’d kiss you. Now, he’s shy with it, slow-moving.
He pulls away, just for a second, to look at you, to check that you’re okay. You chase his mouth and he’s a goner, diving back in and inhaling deep at the feeling.
You can feel yourself melting into him, getting lost in the press of his lips against yours.
It hits you that Steve hasn’t kissed anyone since he was with you. That it’s been years since he’s last done this. I haven’t kissed anybody since we, um, broke up.
This is a big thing. Kissing Steve again is a big and scary thing. His free hand laying itself on your thigh jolts you out of it. You pull away, breathing heavy.
“I’m sorry,” Steve says, pulling his hands away. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”
“No, no. It’s just- I shouldn’t have done that.”
You’re supposed to be pushing your feelings aside. You’re supposed to be friends, that’s it. You’re not supposed to let it get to this point again, because you know how it feels when it ends. That can’t happen again.
“No, Ace. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”
“Please, don’t be sorry, okay?” You stand up, almost dizzy. “I’m just gonna go, I think.”
“Hey, come on. Stay. It won’t happen again.”
“I just need to, um, clear my head.”
You hurry to the door, trying to slip your shoes on as fast as possible. Steve catches your wrist loosely as you reach for the door.
“You can talk to me. You don’t have to leave.”
“I need to think, Steve,” you open the door. This time, he lets you. Before you close it you turn to him, “I’m not mad, I promise.”
All he can do is nod slowly and stare at the door long after you’ve closed it.
-
You meant it: you’re not mad. Well, not at Steve. You’re mad at yourself, really, for letting yourself fall for him again, for making yourself remember exactly how it feels to kiss him.
You’re not mad at Steve and yet, you haven’t been alone with him since that day. It’s for your own good, you hope. You don’t want to let yourself be with him again because you know what it feels like to lose him. It hurts and it sucks and you’d rather love him quietly than feel that ever again.
It’s game night at the Wheeler’s now, and so far, you’ve lost pretty much every game. You find it doesn’t bother you all that much when you’re around such good people.
As Nancy shuffles Uno cards, you stand, “skip me this round. I gotta pee.”
“Thank you for announcing that,” Dustin says.
“You’re welcome, Dusty,” you ruffle his hair on your way to the bathroom.
Once you’re washing your hands, you inspect yourself in the mirror. Your hair’s frizzier than you’d like and your mascara’s smudged under your eyes. You use your pinky, wet with tap water, to wipe it away.
You unlock and open the door and find Steve leaning against the wall in the hallway. Not expecting anyone to be there, you jump.
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, laughing lightly.
“Why’re you standing there?”
“Waiting for the bathroom.”
You don’t point out that there are more than one bathrooms in the Wheeler’s house. Instead, you move out of the doorway and let him go in. Only, he doesn’t move.
“Okay, I lied,” he confesses. “I was waiting for you.”
“Oh. Well, here I am.”
“Yeah,” he looks you over, like he can’t help it. “Will you come home with me? So we can talk about…”
As much as you wish you could just forget about that kiss, you can’t. It hasn’t left your mind for more than five minutes at a time. Often, you find yourself pressing your fingers to your mouth, searching for the ghost of his. Besides, how can you say no to Steve saying the words ‘will you come home with me’?
“Okay,” you say quietly, then, more sure, “okay, sure.”
You walked there, and though you’d usually much prefer the comfort of the BMW, you can’t help but worry about what he wants to say the rest of the night.
Once you’ve said your goodbyes and walk towards Steve’s car, you can almost feel Robin’s knowing smile as she watches you climb into the passenger seat.
The drive feels like a dream in the sense that you blinked and it ended. You suppose time can fly when you’re lost in thought, in what-ifs.
You only realize you’ve made it to Steve’s house when you hear the click of the gearshift and the quiet of the engine shutting off that follows. You follow him inside, watching the way he fiddles with his keys, his hand flicking on the lights inside.
He leads you to his bedroom. He knows he could’ve stopped in the kitchen or the living room, but he’s most comfortable in the only room that feels completely his in the house. He needs to be comfortable for this.
You sit on the edge of his bed, and he leans on the dresser across from you.
There’s an anticipation almost humming in the air. Who will speak first, what will they say.
“So-”
“Listen-”
You speak at the same time.
“You first,” Steve offers.
“I’m sorry for running out like that. I was just overwhelmed, I guess. Had to think.”
“Don’t be sorry, please. I feel like I should be apologizing to you.”
For so much more than just that kiss. Then again, he’s not really sorry for kissing you, he’s only sorry for possibly hurting you with it.
“We were doing so good.” He furrows his brows at you in question. “At just being friends.”
“I don’t think I could ever look at you as just a friend, Ace. Not after knowing what it’s like to have you.”
You want to tell him you feel the same, you want to tell him so bad. The words are stuck in your throat. You’re so afraid, so nervous, for what could happen if you try this again.
“Do you regret kissing me?” You ask instead.
“I know I should, but I can’t regret anything with you.”
“I don’t regret it, either.”
The room seems to shrink, the air thicken. Steve’s hands clench on the edge of the dresser, holding himself back, almost.
You don’t think you want him to hold back. You want to slap yourself for it, but you’ve missed the way his kiss melted you every day since you felt it. Maybe, if you can’t tell him, you can show him how you feel.
“Kiss me again,” you say.
“What?”
He must have heard you wrong. Only, when you repeat yourself, he knows he didn’t.
“You’re sure?” He checks.
All you can do is nod, almost eagerly. He pushes off from the dresser and stands in front of you. Your knees brush against the fabric of his jeans as he moves closer. His hands gently cup your face, tilt it up so you’re looking at him.
His eyes flick between yours, and when you nudge your cheek into his hand, like an encouragement, he bends down to place his lips over yours.
It starts gently, like the last one. Steve’s lips glide over yours slowly, making sure you don’t want to pull away. It feels like high school and sneaking through windows, like popcorn kisses at the movies and the feeling of Skull Rock behind your back. It feels like the past and yet, there’s an emotion there that wasn’t before.
Longing, knowing what it feels like to lose this.
It’s gentle until your hands snake their way under Steve’s shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin, the sunshine pouring out of him. That’s when his hold on your face becomes a bit more firm, one of his thumbs pushing on your chin to get you to open it for him.
That’s when the dam seems to break.
Steve kisses you deeper and deeper, pushing himself closer and closer until you’re being laid down on the bed. He pulls away from you, his lips kiss-swollen and pink, to give you space to push yourself up to his pillows.
He tugs his shirt off before climbing over you, his hands digging into the mattress on either side of your head, his brown eyes darkened.
“You okay?” He checks.
“Yes,” you nod, “I missed you.”
You wind your arms around his neck and pull him back to you, his mouth finding yours easily. It’s been a long time since you’ve done this with Steve, but the rhythm of it all comes easily. It’s hard to forget someone when you’ve spent so long learning what they like.
He kisses you enough to feel dazed, your head a jumble of SteveSteveSteve and your hips canting towards his unconsciously. He’d been holding his weight off of you before that, but feeling you brush against him had him pushing his hips against yours, pinning you to the bed.
You broke the kiss only to catch your breath, and Steve took the time to push wet kisses down your jawline, to your neck, breathing heavy in between them.
Selfishly, possessively, he tugs the neckline of your shirt down and sucks a hickey into your collarbone, licking over it when he’s done. Your hands have buried themselves in his hair at some point, and you feel his groan against your skin when you tug.
He moves down still, pushing your shirt up to bunch underneath your bra and peck his way across your stomach.
“Steve,” you almost whine.
He peeks up at you, “yeah, baby?”
Baby. He hasn’t called you that in years. The sound of the pet name in his voice is enough to have the dampness in your panties grow.
“You’re teasing me.”
“You used to like that,” he pouts.
“It’s been too long. Please.”
He’s trying to act composed on the outside when really, the word ‘please’ leaving your mouth is enough to have him push his crotch into the mattress.
“I’ll make it up to you,” he says. His hand pauses on the waistband of your pants, “can I?”
“Yes.”
He unbuttons them and tugs down the zipper, sits up on his knees to pull them down and off your legs, your socks and underwear follow.
Steve can’t believe this is happening, he can’t believe you’re there, on his bed, looking so pretty for him. He resists the urge to pinch himself.
You grow shy under his stare, his eyes focused where you’re embarrassingly wet all because of him. You try to shut your legs, but he stops you with a hand on your knee, “you’re beautiful, Ace. You don’t need to hide. It’s just me.”
You’re not sure how to tell him the reason you care so much is because it’s him of all people. Steve who you’ve known for so long, Steve who you used to have, like this. Steve, who you love.
He lays down between your legs, his arms wrapping around your thighs, thumbs running back and forth soothingly across your skin. He kisses up your thighs and pauses when his breath hits your cunt. He glances up at you for permission.
You nod, a hand finding one of his on your leg and weaving your fingers together.
You try to keep your head up to be able to see him, but as soon as he runs his tongue up your slit it falls back into the pillow, a gasp escaping you. You squeeze his hand in yours.
Steve works you quickly, so much so that it’s clear he hasn’t forgotten a single thing about you.
His tongue runs over you again and again, your slick surely all over his mouth. When it hits the bead of your clit, your free hand is in his hair again. He grunts into you at the pull, and you can’t help but moan at the feeling of it all.
When your hand squeezes his even tighter, Steve moves his free hand to your entrance, his mouth hit around your clit. He works a finger in, then a second. He curves them and searches until he finds the spot that makes you whimper out a noise he wants to hear again.
“Steve,” his name a breathy moan.
“Go on, baby. I can feel it. You wanna come?”
“Yes, yes, please.”
“I've got you.”
He works his fingers quicker, puts his mouth back on you and flicks his tongue and just like that you’re being pushed over the edge, your eyes squeezing shut and your hands holding him even tighter.
He watches as you come down, his cheek against your thigh, “so pretty.”
You manage a lazy smile, taking your hand out of his hair, “sorry. Did that hurt?”
“I liked it. You know that.”
He moves back up until his face is above yours, kissing you, letting you taste yourself on him.
Your hands trail down his back, his muscles shifting as he holds himself up. They land on the waistband of his jeans, tracing it around to his stomach, letting your fingers go further, feeling the skin just above his underwear.
You pull back from his mouth to glance down to where your fingers run back and forth over his skin, pausing to undo the button of his jeans.
“Who’s teasing now?” He says, voice low in your ear.
A shrug is your reply, followed by his zipper being pulled down slowly. His head bends to watch your hands work his pants and boxers down enough to free him, his cock hard and pink at the tip, pretty as ever.
You wrap a hand around him, “better?”
“Much.”
You work him slowly, like you’re trying to remember the feeling of him, your hand pausing at the tip to let your thumb run over it.
Steve tried to remember the way your hand felt against him when he was desperate and alone. Now, having you again, he knows his imagination could never do you justice. You’re soft in a way he never could be.
When you squeeze him a bit tighter, moving a bit quicker, he drops his head onto your shoulder, groaning.
“Ace.”
“Uh-huh?”
“If you keep doing that I’m gonna come,” he picks his head up, sets his eyes on yours, “I don’t wanna come like this.”
“Feels nice in my hand, though.”
“I can make it feel a whole lot better, if you’ll let me.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I want you, Ace.”
“I want you, too.”
He pecks your lips quickly before standing to take his pants off fully. You take your shirt and bra off at the same time. It makes you nervous to be naked in front of him again, and the way he looks at you doesn’t help. It’s a searing gaze, almost burning your skin.
“Look at you,” he whispers, almost like he was saying it to himself.
He climbs over you once more when you make hands at him. His skin is warm, mirroring the way you feel all over. Steve tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, trails his hand down your neck, to your chest. He cups you in his palm, squeezing lightly then letting a thumb run over your nipple.
You bite back a whimper.
His mouth gives the tit that isn’t in his hand attention, pecking and sucking and licking.
“Steve,” you push your hips up.
“Sorry, baby. Missed these girls, too.”
You roll your eyes.
He kisses your cheek and takes the hand off your chest to hold himself, running his head up and down your slit, wetting it with your slick. When he pauses at your entrance, he looks at you.
“You’re still okay? Still want this?”
You nod, hands running in circles on the back of his shoulders, “yes. I’m ready.”
He’s big, and the stretch of him pushing into you is sharper now that you’re not used to it. He soothes you with sweet words and soft kisses to your neck.
Halfway, he checks in, “good?”
You wrap your legs around his thighs and pull him in the rest of the way, whining when his pelvis is against yours.
“Fuck,” he says into the skin of your neck, just below your ear. “You’re heaven, Ace.”
“Move, Steve,” your hands tighten on his shoulders. “Please.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice, pulling back slowly only to push in again. You can feel everything, you think. Maybe because it’s been so long or because sex with someone you love is better than any other sex. Maybe it’s just Steve.
He’s all over you. His hair tickling your chin, his mouth open against your neck, breaths hot against your skin. He’s in your mind and in your heart and in you, deeper than anyone else. You feel so full. Of him, of emotion, of memories of nights you used to have just like this one.
Full of him in every way.
“God, you’re perfect,” he says. “There’s nobody like you. No one, Ace.”
“I-” love you, you almost say. “Steve.”
The pitch of your voice tells him to go faster, and he lifts his head to see your face. Mouth agape, soft moans and breaths spilling out, eyebrows scrunched, eyes falling shut when he finds your spot.
“Open your eyes,” he says, softly. “Come on, baby.”
You do, blinking them open and looking up at him. His hair is a mess around his head, sweaty strands falling over his forehead, his cheeks are flushed pink and you’re sure they’d be warm to the touch.
He drops his forehead against yours, your sounds and breaths mingling between your mouths, your noses nudging against each other with every push of his hips.
Your arms go around his neck, one hand tangling itself in the hair at the nape of his neck. You’re getting closer and closer and by the way his movements grow just a bit faster, a bit sloppier, he is, too.
“Ace. Baby, you’re there, yeah? I can feel you squeezing me,” his lips brush yours as he speaks.
“So close, Steve.”
He’s holding himself up on one elbow, trailing his free hand down to rub circles over your clit. “Come on.”
You finish with a cry of his name, your eyes squeezing shut. It’s overwhelming, the feelings that blind you. The pleasure and the affection, the heat and the love you really don’t think you could imagine. So much so that tears slip from the corners of your eyes.
He’s not far behind, “shit. Where do you want me?”
In your haze, you can barely manage a reply, “tummy.”
He pulls out and jerks himself until you can feel him coming on your skin. He moans and it’s a beautiful sound. You run your hands over his skin through it all, grounding him and yourself.
Your foreheads are still together, slick with sweat.
“Fuck,” he pecks you once, twice, three times. “You okay?”
“Really good.”
“Will you stay?”
You hadn’t even thought of leaving. You wouldn’t dream of it. Not now, at least, in your post-orgasm daze where fears and worries don’t reach you.
“Mhm,” you hum your agreement.
Steve’s grin splits his cheeks, wide and toothy and infectious enough to make you smile, too.
“I’ll be right back,” he rolls away from you, standing beside the bed. Before walking away, he bends to peck you again. He heads to the bathroom after that.
You note the freckles that dot his back and shoulders as he goes. A constellation you never forgot; burned in your memory. One you used to play connect the dots with in the mornings.
He comes back with a wet cloth, wiping his come from your stomach and then cleaning you up as gently as possible, giving a soft apology when you whimper in sensitivity.
He tosses the cloth aside when he’s done and searches his drawers for a clean pair of boxers. He tugs them on then finds a baggy sleep shirt for you. You watch him the whole time, the way he moves and the way the streetlights seeping in through the window light his skin.
Coming back to you, he tells you to sit up and puts the shirt over your head. He didn’t even have to ask, he knows what you like to sleep in. When you look at the shirt he picked, you find it’s one that used to be your favorite.
You bring the fabric to your nose and hide your grin in it.
Steve pulls the blankets over you, then himself when he lays down beside you. He doesn’t even hesitate before tugging you closer with an arm around your waist.
“I really missed you, Ace.”
“Missed you, Steve,” you reply sleepily.
He kisses your forehead.
You fall asleep easily, Steve’s fingers running back and forth over your skin, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear.
-
Steve wakes up before you do.
You’ve both moved in your sleep. Now, you lay on your stomach, face turned towards him and cheek squished into the pillow. He lays on his side, propped up by his elbow, looking at you.
He looks at you, asleep and pretty, and wonders how he could ever give you up.
His free hand tucks your hair behind your ear, away from your face, brushes his knuckles across your cheeks as lightly as possible. He moves to your arm and traces the words ‘I love you’ into your skin.
He draws the words over and over, only pulling his hand away when you rouse.
You breathe in deep before opening your eyes, moving your head on the pillow to look over at Steve properly. His eyes are already set on you, puffy with sleep and full of something you’re not sure you’re ready to face.
“Hi,” his voice is different in the morning, lower.
“Hi.”
“Sleep okay?”
“Mhm,” you stretch your legs and turn onto your side. “You?”
“Better than I have in a while, actually.”
You can tell that there’s something he wants to say, that he’s thinking of the words. It makes you nervous, your stomach twisting uncomfortably. Maybe he regrets it. Almost worse, maybe he doesn’t.
“Can I say something?”
“Steve-”
“No, let me say it. If you hate it, we can forget about it, okay?”
His eyes are soft, pleading. You can tell that whatever it is, it really matters to him and there’s no way you can ignore that.
“Okay.”
“I still love you.”
His words hang in the air, your chests both rise and fall a bit quicker, hearts beating faster in tandem.
You’ve been dreaming of him saying it to you, and yet, hearing it out loud, you can’t help but be terrified. You love him, you know you do, and it scares you. It’ll hurt worse the second time around if you lose him.
“I still love you,” he continues in your silence. “I miss you so much, Ace. I want to do it again. I want to be with you and do it right.”
“I don’t want to lose you again.”
“You didn’t. You won’t. I’ve thought of you every day since you left,” his hand finds yours atop the sheets, fingers linking. “I didn’t want to break up with you, and I never wanted to hurt you.”
“Why did you?”
He squeezes his eyes shut for a second. Squeezes your hand, too.
“I thought I was doing the right thing. You were going off to school and I’d be here and I didn’t want to hold you back. I wanted you to go and to do it fully.”
Your heart pinches in your chest. Steve really believed he’d been doing you a favor by letting you go.
“It hurt for a long time, Steve. I don’t know if I can do that again.”
“I’m not gonna hurt you again, Ace,” he swipes away the tear that falls from your cheek. “Just answer one thing for me?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you love me?”
It’s the most obvious answer in the world.
“Of course I love you, Steve. I would’ve stayed if you asked me to.”
“That’s why I did it,” his thumb runs over your cheek gently. “I couldn't let you give it all up for me. But you’re back now, and I love you and you love me. Let me try again.”
You want to say yes. So badly, you want to be with him. So why can't you just say it? It’s like glue’s been dropped down your throat, sticking all the right words in it so that nothing useful comes out. You try anyway.
“I’m just scared.”
You shut your eyes.
“Will you look at me?” You do, and right then it’s hard to feel scared anymore. He’s looking at you like he’s never been more sure of anything. “You’re my forever. I know you are. Let me show you.”
You focus on his hand in yours, his touch on your face. You focus on the fact that this is Steve. Steve who you love, who you know you want to be with past all the fear and worry.
“Okay,” you nod.
“Okay? Like, you’ll be my girl again?”
“Yes, yeah.”
His grin spreads wide enough to have his eyes crinkling at the corners. He rushes forward to kiss you, three quick pecks broken by your smiles.
“Can I tell you something?” You ask him, suddenly brave, like his kiss fixed everything.
“Anything.”
“I wished for you. On that eyelash. The day we kissed.”
He kisses you again for that.
thank u for reading! if you enjoyed it please consider reblogging and letting me know what you thought it would mean a bunch <3
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valeskafics · 8 months
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"Moments And Realizations" - Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader
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a/n: request from @barbiedragon my beloved ❤️❤️❤️
Summary: Steve finally makes his true feelings to you known after he almost loses you.
TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, fingering, unprotected sex, p in v sex, mentions of death/injury
Word Count: 2,000 words
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Stranger Things characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated ❤️
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Life is a series of moments and realizations. Like the moment you realized you were in love with your best friend, Steve Harrington.
It may have been the day you walked into seventh grade English and saw him for the first time, those sweet brown eyes, that gorgeous hair, and that kind smile. You sat by him and he immediately struck up a conversation with you regarding your Star Wars tee shirt and the way you’d doodled all over your sneakers.
Or it may have been when he asked you to come trick or treating with him, Carol, and Tommy H. Steve made the cutest Superman while you were dressed as Princess Leia. Steve stuttered and blushed as he complimented your costume, Carol and Tommy giggling at the sight.
Perhaps it was at the Snow Ball, when “Fernando” by ABBA began playing over the speakers and Steve held his hand out to you, his smile uncharacteristically shy and eyes shining with an earnest vulnerability as he asked you to dance.
Or maybe it was when the two of you went to see “Empire Strikes Back” in theaters, having become practically attached at the hip at this point, the best of friends, sharing all your secrets, knowing everything about each other. When Han said “I know”, you felt Steve take your hand, squeezing softly, as he assured you Han would be alright. Always protecting you and your heart.
You knew you were in love with him when he came to you, all bright eyed and bushy tailed about having given gorgeous, perfect Nancy Wheeler a Valentine and that she’d given him one in return. You ignored the stinging pain in your heart and congratulated your best friend, telling him how happy you were for him.
You tried to move on with your first boyfriend, Billy, which only brought you more pain when you eventually lost him. Your love affair with Billy was passionate and intense, because he was passionate and intense. You ignored Steve’s warnings about him, brushing them off as friendly concern, unable to see the heartache behind his gaze when your lips would touch Billy’s in front of him.
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The first time you get an inkling as to Steve’s true feelings for you is when you offer yourself as bait in Max’s place when you and your friends make plans to take down Vecna. Being one of his targets already, and having had a rather nasty encounter with the bastard, you are a willing volunteer, if only to protect Max.
“Billy was my ex, Steve, I’m carrying a lot of guilt,” you tell your best friend, smiling at him ruefully, “Max is a kid. I can’t let her do this.”
“Oh, no,” Steve protests, “No, no, no, no, no, absolutely not!”
“He almost killed you last time!” your little brother adds, his curly hair bouncing with how intensely his head bobbles as he speaks, almost making you want to laugh at the image, “Max just floated. He almost had you!”
“What, Dusty, this old thing?” you wave your cast, evidence of your last encounter with Vecna/Henry/One and scoff, “I broke my ankle rollerskating two years ago, I’m aces.”
“Hey,” Robin grabs you by the shoulders, “As your newly appointed best friend-“
“Hey!”
“Shut up, Steve. As I was saying, as your newly appointed female best friend, this is such a bad idea.”
“I can’t let it be Max,” you smile sadly, going to ruffle Max’s hair, which she uncharacteristically does not protest to, “She’s just a kid. I can take it. She shouldn’t have to.”
“You’re just a kid too,” Max holds your uninjured hand tightly, “We all are. You don’t have to be brave for us all the time. Sometimes you should let us be brave for you.”
You shake your head, “No, Maxine. Not this time.”
“I’ll go with Robin to take care of Vecna,” Nancy speaks up, “Steve, you need to stay with Y/N.”
Steve nods, to which you protest, “What? No, Nance! He needs to go with you two! If anything happened to either of you-“
“Hey, Henderson Senior,” Nancy smiles wryly, moving to hold your face in her hands, “You and I have been through this, what, a hundred times? I can shoot a freaking shotgun. And Robin is kind of a secret badass. We’re gonna be okay. And if anyone can wake you up, it’s gonna be Steve.”
“Nance-“
“Hey,” Nancy shakes her head, “He’s staying with you. I’m in charge, remember?”
Nancy winks at Dustin, who stares up at you with watery eyes, “You better not die.”
“I won’t, Dusty,” you move away from Max to sit in front of your brother, wiping a tear off his face, “Hey, no more crying. I’m your big sister. This is my job, okay?”
“We’ll stay with you too,” Erica speaks up, Lucas nodding alongside her, “No discussions, alright?”
You laugh softly, “No, I guess there aren’t any discussions with you, Erica,” you turn to Lucas next, “If things go south, you have to promise me you’re gonna take care of Dusty. And Maxine,” you lean in conspiratorially and whisper, “And Steve, Rob, and Nance too. Okay?”
Lucas swallows and nods, meeting her eyes, “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. None of us will.”
However? That was easier said than done…
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“Fuck, try anything by Queen!” Dustin screams, clamoring through the cassettes in your vast collection, some of which have been trampled by Jason.
Max stares at you in horror, “It’s not working! Shit, shit, she doesn’t have Billy’s mixtape, it must be in her car, Lucas, go get it! Check if she has Foreigner!”
“She doesn’t have it,” Erica covers her mouth, “Oh God.”
“Hold on, Y/N,” Steve whispers, clearing his throat, “Everyone, shut up! I’m gonna try something!”
“What are you-“
Dustin shushes Erica as Steve moves to stand in front of your levitating form, holding you by the feet before beginning to sing, “Can you hear the drums, Fernando? I remember long ago another starry night like this. In the firelight, Fernando,” the group can’t even bring themselves to cringe at Steve’s off key plea to bring you back, “You were humming to yourself and softly strumming your guitar. I could hear the distant drums and sounds of bugle calls were coming from afar.”
Instead of rising any higher, or any of your bones twisting as your friends feared, you stay in place. Max shakes Steve frantically, urging him to keep going. He nods and continues with a feverish vigor, praying to whatever God exists to spare you.
“They were closer now, Fernando. Every hour, every minute seemed to last eternally. I was so afraid, Fernando. We were young and full of life and none of us prepared to die,” he can’t help but let his voice quiver at how truly afraid he is in this moment and that the lyrics are hitting just a little too close to home, “And I’m not ashamed to say the roar of guns and cannons almost made me cry,” he takes a breath before belting out an awful but heartfelt rendition of the chorus, “There was something in the air that night, the stars were bright, Fernando! They were shining there for you and me, for liberty, Fernando,” Steve’s voice cracks as he began sobbing, still singing, “Though I never thought that we could lose, there’s no regret. If I had to do the same again, I would, my friend, Fernando. If I had to do the same again, I would, my friend, Fernando.”
And your eyes open. You fall into Steve’s arms, coughing, gasping for air. His eyes widen as he continues to cry, clutching onto you for dear life.
He whispers your name as he rubs your back, burying his face in your neck as he cries, “You’re okay, baby, you’re okay.”
“Steve,” you manage to murmur, smiling at him softly and pressing a hand to his cheek, “How did you-”
“It was the song we first danced to. At the Snow Ball in seventh grade,” he cups your face in his hands, holding you tightly, “And then the other day when we were listening to it-“
“And I almost kissed you,” you laugh, moving to wrap him in a tight embrace, “You saved me, Stevie. When I was stuck in there, all I could hear was your voice. All I wanted was to get back to you cuz I had to tell you.”
“Tell me what?” he asks softly, wiping the tears from her eyes.
“That I love you,” you whisper.
Steve’s smile is so bright that it is all you can see, “I’ve waited so long to hear you say that. I love you. I’ve been in love with you since the day you walked into my English class. You are everything to me. You’re my whole fucking world.”
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When the two of you get back to your house, Dustin runs off to play a round of D&D with the others since the whole group is together again. Steve, however, insists on playing Mother Hen and carrying you to your room, despite only having a broken arm.
“Steve,” you giggle, “I’m fine.”
“I know,” he grins at you, that boyish smile that you love so much, “Can’t a guy just pamper his girl a little bit?”
“Oh, so I’m your girl now?” you tease him as he sets you down gently on the bed.
Steve blushes at your teasing, leaning over you, brushing his nose against yours, his hair falling into his eyes in a way that you find entirely irresistible, “I’d really like you to be. If you wanna.”
“I want nothing more than that in the entire world,” you admit, your lips finding his and meeting in a soft, sweet kiss, only pulling apart when the two of you are desperate for air, “Well, I also want this stupid cast off, but we can’t have everything we want, so I’ll settle for you.”
Steve snickers, helping you out of your dress, careful to avoid your cast as he does, his eyes going wide with delight as he gazes at you, “You’re so damn beautiful.”
“So are you,” you say softly, smiling up at him.
You watch as Steve removes his own clothes and giggle slightly at the sight of his chest, earning an eye roll from him, “What is my chest too masculine and hairy for you, little girl?”
You bury your face in your pillow and burst into laughter, “Stop, I’m gonna bust one of my stitches!”
Steve grins and crawls over you, careful not to put any weight near your arm as he kisses you again, slow and sensual and so sweetly, treating you with so much care that it’s almost as though you’re made of glass. Your good hand threads through his hair while he teases you with his fingers, stroking your already wet pussy, grinning against your lips, the smug bastard.
“I want you to take me,” you whisper softly, “Wanna be with you, Stevie.”
He nods slowly, sheathing himself inside you, and God, nothing has ever felt so right as joining your body with his. Steve fills you up so perfectly and his hips roll against yours at an easy, languid pace, making sure to savor the moment. To savor you.
“I love you so much,” he murmurs as he ruts against you, “Love you more than anything in the world.”
“I love you too, Stevie,” you murmur, kissing his throat, his jaw, then his lips again, “God, I love you.”
“I know,” he teases, making you giggle, the sound turning into a moan as you feel his thumb draw lazy circles around your clit, sending you free falling over the edge, squeezing around him, triggering his own release.
You lay there in his arms, gazing at the ceiling of your room.
Life is a series of moments and realizations, and they’ve lead you to Steve Harrington.
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steddiealltheway · 1 year
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Eddie and Nancy start talking to each other as a result of the fruity four hanging out together. It’s not that Robin and Steve are excluding them or anything, but sometimes they’re just on a different level with their weird platonic soulmates psychic communication whatever they call it. Anyways, Eddie and Nancy bond over the weirdness of it, but quickly become good friends.
Like good friends. Eddie is at the point where he thinks he can call Nancy his best friend - sorry Gareth you’re like second in command best friend. Sure, they’re a strange mix, but she’s been there for him even after he came out to her. Shortly after, she had revealed that she thought she might have feelings for Robin, and Eddie was absolutely ecstatic and encouraged her to go after her.
See, Eddie is determined not to lose Nancy as a friend. Because what they have is pretty close to what Steve and Robin have which is really saying something. Plus, Nancy is just a good person, so Eddie would never do anything to hurt her. Which is exactly why the only thing he will never tell her is how strong his feelings are for Steve Harrington.
One of the number one rules is to not date your friend’s ex - especially your best friend’s ex. At least, that’s one of the things Eddie got from the cheesy films that he and Nancy love to watch. But he vows to never ever make a move on Steve, and of course Steve will never make a move on him first.
So, Eddie sees nothing wrong with watching a second movie with Steve after Robin and Nancy have left. In fact, Nancy encouraged him to stay with a knowing smile, and if he didn’t know any better, that smile would mean that he should make a move. But there’s no way. Even though Nancy has feelings for Robin - and looks to be on her way to dating her soon - Eddie will not date her ex - well, attempt to date her ex.
And yes, maybe Robin got permission from Steve to date his ex, but that’s because Steve is just the kind of guy who would never sacrifice Robin’s happiness for his own. Nancy is probably the same way, but that just seems like it’ll leave a bitter trail of resentment.
So Eddie tries not to lean into Steve’s touch in the slightest even when he scoots over and drapes an arm over the back of the couch. He’s entirely on edge through the first few minutes of the movie, and then it becomes worse when he realizes Steve is staring at him. Eddie glances over to ask him if he has something on his face when Steve starts to lean in - eyes locked on Eddie’s lips.
Eddie scrambles back until he’s on the end of the couch. “What are you doing?” Eddie asks, breathing heavily as his heart races.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Steve asks with all the Harrington charm that would make Eddie swoon if he wasn’t so terrified.
“You… you can’t do that,” Eddie says as Steve scoots in closer.
He looks over him then stops. “Hey, if I read things wrong, then I’m so sorry. I’ll let it go. But I really thought you liked me,” Steve says eyebrows pinched together.
Eddie sighs. “Is it that obvious?” Then he freezes as he realizes his grave mistake. He should’ve just taken the bait and said he didn’t like him. Shit. What will Nancy think when she finds out?
Then Steve is smiling again and making his way to Eddie’s end of the couch. He flirts, “If you like me, and I like you. Then, I think there’s a pretty simple solution to those feelings.”
Eddie quickly gets off the couch and backs up until his back is against some wall. “Steve, we can’t do this.”
“Why not?” Steve asks with his head cocked to the side looking entirely confused and adorable.
“Because Nancy!” Eddie explains because it’s clear as day that there’s no way this would work since she’s his best friend.
Steve looks even more confused as he stays sitting on the couch. “I’m not dating Nancy, Eddie. And I don’t like her anymore if that’s what you’re trying to imply.”
Eddie takes a deep breath. “I can’t date my best friend’s ex,” he says firmly.
For some reason, this has Steve standing up and making his way to him with a smile. “You’re concerned about hurting Nancy?” Eddie nods because yeah of course he is. Then Steve is getting up in his personal space again and leaning in. “And what if I told you Nancy encouraged me to make a move on you?”
“What?” Eddie splutters out. There’s no way. He hadn’t even told her about his feelings.
Steve’s flirtatious grin disappears as he looks into Eddie’s eyes. “Eddie, I’m serious. I told Nancy about the way I felt, and she told me to do something about it because you definitely felt the same.”
“I didn’t even tell her,” Eddie argues. And Steve finally pulls away. Then, he grabs Eddie’s hand and tugs him into following him. Before Eddie knows it, Steve has a phone in his hand as he dials a number.
“Hey. Yeah, it’s me… Everything is okay here, don’t worry… Yes, I made a move… And Eddie here is refusing all of my advances because he’s afraid to hurt you… of course.” Steve holds out the phone to him. “Nancy wants to talk to you.”
Eddie reluctantly takes the phone. “Hello?”
“Edward Munson, you better kiss Steve right this instant.”
Eddie’s mouth gapes and then he’s firing back, “Nancy Wheeler, I refuse to date your ex because that’s one of the number one rules of what not to do to your best friend.”
There’s a pause on the other line. “What in the world are you talking about?”
Eddie’s hand goes flying up. “In all those movies the girl is backstabbed by a friend who dates her ex and that ruins the whole friendship! I’m not doing that to you!”
There’s a sigh and then Nancy says, “Eddie. Please tell me you’re not basing our friendship off crappy drama movies.” Eddie pauses as he thinks back to all the advice he’s taken from them. There’s a soft, “Oh my god,” on the other line as Eddie twists the phone cord up in his hand. “Okay, okay. Hear me out. Using those movies as example, you know what every one one of those have in common?”
“No,” Eddie admits quietly.
“The girl never gives the other friend permission, and if she does, she certainly doesn’t encourage her ex to act on it as well! Plus, the girls in all those movies are kind of bitches, and I would like to think we don’t stoop as low as they do.”
Eddie takes a breath and quickly asks, “Nancy Wheeler, please tell me you will not hate me forever if I date your ex.”
“I will hate you forever if you don’t date Steve. Eddie, you’ve been pining after him for months!”
“But don’t you think that will lead to some kind of resentment on your part?” Eddie reasons.
There’s a pause on the other line. “The only resentment will come from you because I’m entirely over Steve, and I want both of you to be happy. Plus… I’m pretty content with Robin right now.”
Eddie smiles as he eggs her on, “Pretty content you say?”
There’s a laugh on the other line before Nancy says, “We’ll talk about this later. But right now you better kiss him. He’s been pining after you for some time too, but I never told you that!”
“I love you,” Eddie says sincerely.
Nancy voice softens. “I love you, too. Now get your damn man.” She hangs up and Eddie carefully puts the phone back on the receiver. He turns to find Steve no longer near him. He wanders back to the living room where Steve sits on the couch, foot tapping quickly as he stares off into space looking so concerned that it’s actually endearing.
“Steve?”
Steve’s head snaps to the side as Eddie gets closer to him. “Yeah?” He asks sounding endlessly hopeful.
Eddie leans down and asks, “Is that kiss still an option or…”
Steve takes a moment to process, but then he’s breaking out into the biggest smile as he replies, “Yes, it’s still an option.”
So, Eddie finally leans in and kisses Steve.
He’s going to have a lot to tell Nancy later, including a solid thank you.
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kaylawritesfics · 2 years
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Dating Steve Harrington and Being Dustin’s Sister
headcanons
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summary: what it’s like to date everyone’s favorite babysitter as a henderson (lowkey enemies to friends to lovers)
WARNINGS: swearing, mentions of canon typical violence, probably some plot inconsistencies bc i don’t remember anything that happened in season two
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader (henderson!reader)
a/n: i realized that i’ve never written for steve so i wanted to do some headcanons that actually got really out of hand and long but it’s okay !! <3 send in some st4 requests if you want :) i also just posted a few more headcanons for steve x henderson!reader here so check those out if you liked this one :))
*not proofread* *no spoilers for st4*
You met Steve during his “King Steve” phase.
The two of you went to school together, you being a year younger than Steve and much less popular, choosing to spend your time studying or hanging out with your little brother and his friends.
You were the original babysitter for the party, often getting stuck watching over them during your free time because of your closeness to Dustin, in particular.
However, you were also close with Nancy so of course Steve had been introduced to you while they were together.
Initially, you weren’t very fond of Steve. The two of you often butted heads while Nancy tried to play the peacemaker.
It didn’t help that you happened to be very close with Jonathan Byers, who Steve and his friends loved to torment relentlessly. You felt a lot of sympathy for Jonathan. Between getting bullied at school and his brother’s disappearance, he was going through a lot.
Your final straw with Steve was when he broke Jonathan’s camera. Even though Steve eventually apologized and Jonathan forgave him, you just couldn’t bring yourself to see past it.
In your mind, Steve Harrington was the biggest douchebag in Hawkins.
That is, until Billy Hargrove moved to town.
Dustin introduced you to Max, who you immediately took under your wing. Unfortunately, with Max came her older stepbrother, Billy.
You were sure that the one and only thing you and Steve Harrington would ever have in common was an utter hatred for Billy Hargrove.
However, your feelings for Steve began to change after things started to go weird again in Hawkins.
When Dustin’s new pet Demogorgon, who he affectionately named Dart, started to get out of hand, he insisted on calling his new favorite person.
Unfortunately for you, this person just so happened to be Steve Harrington.
Already upset by the death of your cat, Mews, you absolutely refused to spend any time with Steve Harrington no matter how much Dustin insisted that “he’s changed!”
Your protests didn’t matter much, however, and Dustin went behind your back, calling Steve anyway.
“What’s he doing here?” “What’s she doing here?” “I live here, doofus.”
Dustin swears he could cut the tension with a knife.
As your troubles with Dart turned into much larger problems, you had no choice but to work with Steve to make sure the party stayed safe.
You and Steve eventually grow pretty fond of each other, much to everyone else’s surprise.
“Did you two just have an ACTUAL conversation? Without insulting each other?” “Shut it, Henderson.”
Steve confides in you about his problems with Nancy. He tells you about her outbursts on Halloween, where she apparently called their relationship “bullshit.” You both agree it was pretty fucked up.
The two of you even fight Demodogs together, absolutely kicking ass much to Dustin’s enjoyment.
“That was so awesome oh my god my sister is so fucking cool you kicked their asses”
Max is the first one to become convinced that you two are in love with each other. Dustin and Lucas absolutely refuse to hear it.
“Look at how she looks at him!” “Please, last week she threw soda cans at him until he almost cried.”
Nancy is also incredibly confused when she finds the two of you seemingly getting along at the Byers house.
While everyone goes to do their respective job, you and Steve are put on babysitting duty again.
Your collective overprotectiveness and downright refusal to deal with their shit makes the kids start calling you “mom and dad”
For some reason, this makes Steve incredibly flustered.
Things take a turn when Billy shows up at the Byers house, pissed off and looking for Lucas and Max.
The rumble of a car pulling into the driveway pulled everyone away from the argument at hand. Headlights flashed through the window as the kids peered out. “Shit!” Max hissed, glancing nervously at Lucas. You briefly recognized the car from school and from Max’s reaction, you could tell it was Billy’s. “Stay here.” Steve’s eyes met yours, a stern look on his face as he looked first at you and then at each of the kids. You nodded, pulling the party away from the window with an anxious feeling in your stomach. You placed a hand on Max’s shoulder, trying your best to reassure her, “Hey, everything’s gonna be fine. Steve will make him go.” Mike and Dustin crouched down, peering nervously out the window. You couldn’t help your curiosity, crouching down beside them. As you peeled out the window, Billy’s eyes suddenly met yours. You couldn’t hear the words that came out of his mouth, however, you could see the disapproving glance from Steve. “Shit! Do you think he saw us?” You weren’t left wondering for long as heavy footsteps marched across the Byers’ front porch and the door furiously swung open.
That night, both you and Steve got your asses kicked by Billy Hargrove. You couldn’t remember much of the night, being knocked out for a good majority of it after jumping on Billy’s back to pull him away from Steve.
You woke to panicked yelling. Taking a minute to adjust to your surroundings, you felt the rough swerving of the car.
“Steve, you drive like a fucking maniac.” You slurred out, bringing your hand up to touch your head. You felt the sticky oozing of blood running down your forehead as you pulled your hands away.
“Oh, hey, sunshine. Listen, don’t panic. You and Steve got your asses royally handed to you. Let me put a bandaid on that for you. You tried! That’s all that matters! You guys will get him next time, don’t worry!”
As your vision became clearer, you recognized Dustin placing a small, pink bandage over the cut on your forehead. His voice was calm. Almost, too calm.
You felt pressure on your shoulder as you turned your head to look. Steve was sleeping on your shoulder, his face battered and bruised.
“Steve? Oh, God.” “Hey, don’t worry! He’s alright! He’s just passed out right now!” “No, no, no, no, who’s driving? Steve, wake up. Who’s driving!”
As you looked up at the drivers seat, you noticed a flash of red hair. You stomach dropped as you realized Max was driving as Lucas and Mike attempted to direct her.
“Oh my god. Steve, wake up.” You nudged him awake with your shoulder.
“Huh? What’s going on?” “Steve, Max is driving.” “OH MY GOD MAX IS DRIVING”
You eventually reached your destination relatively safely. You made a mental note to yell at the kids later and to also never, ever let Max drive.
While in the Upside Down, Steve stuck close by you. Of course, he wanted to make sure the kids were okay but you had a nasty cut on your forehead and were stumbling a bit. He had asked you to stay in the car, but you refused, insisting that you were okay. He makes a point to keep a close eye on you and stay close. He doesn’t know why he’s so worried but he tries to rationalize it as being concerned for his new friend.
After everything is said and done, Steve gives you a ride home. You’re both exhausted and injured, but he makes sure you’re okay. He even offers to spend the night watching movies with you if you’re too scared to sleep, but you refuse, sending him home.
Flash forward to the summer, you and Steve have become pretty good friends and you both find a job in the new Starcourt mall at an ice cream parlor.
When you first see Steve in his Scoops outfit, you can’t help but laugh.
“Aw, Steve, don’t be like that. You look adorable in your little sailor hat!” “Yeah, yeah, you have to wear it too, smartass.”
You convince yourself that the way his cheeks flare up at the word “adorable” is out of embarrassment and absolutely nothing else.
After everything was over, you and Steve arranged to have weekly movie nights with the party.
However, with Dustin gone to camp, Mike and El spending most of their time together, as well as Lucas and Max doing the same, it’s usually just you and Steve hanging out.
You can’t help but notice the way he sits stiffly with his leg brushing yours, almost as if he’s afraid to move any closer.
You and Steve also become pretty close to your coworker, Robin. With the kids busy, Robin becomes a new member for movie nights.
skipping forward because this is getting ridiculously long
Working with Robin, Steve, Dustin, and Lucas’ little sister, Erica, the five of you infiltrate a secret Russian lab below Starcourt mall.
You, Robin, and Steve somehow find yourselves kidnapped and drugged by evil Russians.
After escaping, the three of you are still pretty out of it. You somehow end up in the movie theater, watching Back To The Future.
After the movie, you and Steve find yourselves sitting on the bathroom floor, laughing about something you can’t quite recall.
“Wait, wait, wait. Listen, I have something so important to tell you.” “What?” You’re both giggling, barely able to make it through a sentence without busting out in laughter.
“I am so in love with you.” “What?”
Everything becomes much less funny. Steve is looking at you with the most intense look you’ve ever seen in his eyes.
It’s deathly quiet for a moment as you two look at each other.
Suddenly, you both break out into more laughter, clutching your stomachs and heaving over.
“God, you’re such an idiot.” You manage to get out between gasps for air.
“No, no, I’m being so serious.” Steve is laughing so hard his face is bright red and you genuinely think he’s going to pass out.
As the laughter dies out, the two of you sit silently on the floor. Occasional giggles are passed between you before the your mind suddenly becomes clearer and the weight of his words hit you.
“Steve, you’re literally on drugs, you don’t mean that.” You try to brush it off but somehow that only makes him laugh harder. He grabs your hand, looking at you while attempting to be serious.
“I have to tell you, now, or I’ll never be able to tell you.” He explains, referring to his drugged up state.
“Steve…” He leans in, gently brushing his lips against yours as if he’s testing you. When you don’t pull away, he presses his lips more firmly against yours, smiling through the kiss.
At the end of the night, after everything is over, the Mind Flayer is gone, and both Hopper and Billy are dead, Steve meets you in the back of an ambulance.
Having already been checked and cleared by the EMTs himself, he cautiously takes a seat next to you as you’re getting your wounds cleaned. He grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers almost nervously. When you look at him, he’s already looking over at you, a small smile on his face. You gently squeeze his hand, smiling back at him.
That night, Steve takes you home and, like he did the previous year, offers to spend the night with you. This time, you accept his offer, leading him inside.
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