#steve.🥝

[steviewashere]

I Am the Kiwi

Rating: General CW: None Apply! Tags: Post-Canon, Post Season 4, Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Insecure Eddie Munson, Negative Self Talk, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington Calls Eddie Munson Pet Names, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson

🥝—————🥝

Maybe he shouldn’t bother their tentative relationship by asking insecure questions.

But that’s not how Eddie’s mind works. He’s never known peace unless there’s been an answer. If he senses the beginning of a question like the itchy fur of a kiwi on his tongue, he has to spit it out. And only then, even if the answer is bleak and even if the answer is negative, he’s at peace with it. He’ll just remember to cut the skin off later, taste the fruit for what it is, find something else about it to savor. Because not everything is sweet. And most of the world is bitter like the skin of that kiwi.

He peels the skin off, hair and all, offering it out to Steve to ponder. In the quiet space of his living room, surrounded by warm love in the shape of Wayne’s mug and hat collection, the five year old instruction manuals for appliances they don’t even have anymore, and amber lightbulbs stained with the broken limbs and melted corpses of stink bugs. Maybe he is an unfortunate bug, drawn to Steve’s light. Maybe he is willing to give himself, all of himself, the ugly parts and disgusting parts to something warm and savoring and bright inside Steve. He knows he is. He always has been.

In the quiet, Steve hot under his arm, droopy with fatigue, chuckling low at the sitcom on the television set, Eddie prickles with unanswered unease. He drags his rough palm down Steve’s soft right arm, fingernails dully scratching from mole to mole, pressing into his loose muscles. Eddie leans his head down, cheek laid atop Steve’s voluminous hair, and he breathes him in. Fruity sweetness, floral undertones, some sort of professional salon shampoo. He kisses tender.

“Why do you love somebody like me?” He breathes. And in the quiet, he startles himself, no matter how much that question begged to break free. Steve tenses in his hold, but Eddie can only force him in tighter. Fingers pressing harsh into his fatty parts. Nails mean and sharp and jagged. He buries himself farther into Steve’s beautiful hair.

His boyfriend is gorgeous. And he’s self-sufficient. Kind in a way Eddie seems to have forgotten to be. How can somebody like Steve love him?

Steve doesn’t answer right away. His breaths falter in the room. Like he’s trying to catch his breath after being scared in a haunted house. Maybe, if Eddie allows himself to marinate in it, maybe it’s exactly like that. There’s something rippling, haunted, venturing lonely and howling under Eddie’s skin. He thinks it started with his mom’s death, percolated when his dad went to prison, came full bloom like a crumpled flower on Wayne’s doorstep so many years ago. In a way, Steve is scared. Not scared of Eddie. Or the truth. But this third thing, of answering the question. Of finding the right words, to which Eddie knows he struggles with—so in all aspects, asking something partially insecure and partially selfish is demeaning. It’s, if Eddie thinks about it, challenging Steve’s love. 

There is no response, not yet. But what does fill between them is the live studio audience laughter. The laughter of people who probably didn’t find the joke particularly funny or even clever. They’re just there to laugh. To see behind the scenes of some TV show. To be recognized among the crowd.

Sitcom laughter. And Eddie refuses to let Steve see him.

He hears Steve take a tentative deep breath. The back of his hand touched by the softness of Steve’s palm. And he’s reminded, even in the simplest interactions such as this, that they come from two different worlds. Of all those biases he held onto for years. Unable to get over himself or get with the program. Steve is nothing of what Eddie thought. He’s a jock, sure. And he’s got the better life in some ways; nothing to really label him as other and a status that seems to override him, but it’s not negative. He isn’t a bully. He’s soft and kind and sweet and loving, not a douchebag. A good person. Where, sometimes, Eddie feels as though he lacks all the qualities that Steve seems to be plentiful in.

“Eddie—“

“No, sorry,” he apologizes immediately. His voice small and childlike. “Sorry, that’s not okay to ask. You love me and that needs to be enough.”

Then, Steve shifts. Pulling himself away, sitting on the edge of the cushion, turning to be face to face. And Eddie’s ashamed. He’s mad at himself, too. If the heartbreaking soft sadness in Steve’s eyes is anything. His little frown, pulling down his pretty lips and furrowing his eyebrows and making him wrinkle in all the bad ways. He tilts his head and peers at Eddie.

“I love you because I just do,” he murmurs, “I don’t know how to explain why I do. You’re unlike anybody I’ve ever loved.”

Eddie swallows, takes a breath, and asks, “In a good way or a bad way?”

Steve’s gaze softens. The sadness still lingering, but replaced by determination, even the lightest form of it. “Always in a good way,” he whispers. He reaches out, takes Eddie’s right hand in his left and squeezes. He’s so soft. “You know who you are. And you’re loud about it. I admire that about you.” He closes his eyes, thinking. When he’s gathered, his voice is enamored and murmuring, “And, baby, you’re gentle even if you don’t realize it. You know how and when to take care of the people around you. I’ve never—I’ve always been the one to do that in relationships. You make me feel…Complete.”

Eyes back on him, Eddie swallows most of this insecurity. “Really? You think I complete you?” He questions meekly.

Then, Steve nods, not even taking a moment to consider. Because he just knows. “Yeah,” he mutters, “I know we just started this whole…thing—“ he swings their tangled hands back and forth between them. Eddie chuckles, earning him the most earnest smile he’s probably ever seen. “But, I have a feeling that we’ve got something special. Plus, we’ve got all the free time in the world, y’know, now that it’s not ending. We’ll be okay. I love loving you.”

“I love loving you, too,” Eddie murmurs in turn. He brings his free hand up and brushes some stray strands of Steve’s hair back. Thumb tickling down his temple, swiping under his eye where it’s heavy and blue. “I’m sorry for doubting your love.”

“Honey,” Steve sighs. “It’s really okay. I get it, you know? Everybody has their insecurities. Hell, I have some deeply awful ones.” He leans into Eddie. His warmth radiating once more. Breath ghosting over his cheek, words soft, “I will always reassure you. Because I know you’d do the same for me.” And then, Steve presses a tacky, sweet kiss to his cheek. The tip of his nose crumpling with the soft plunge he gives into Eddie’s skin. He is cracked open raw and for once, instead of being turned away or shunned, somebody is there to enjoy him. Steve is there to savor. “You’re special,” he whispers, “my special one.”

Eddie can only melt in his hands. He’s content with this answer. Fulfilled.

This relationship may be new, but Eddie knows it’ll soon be something sacred. Like the sticky, sugary green insides of a ripe kiwi.

🥝—————🥝 Fun fact, I'm allergic to kiwis. Found this out after my tongue got itchy from the skin of a kiwi. That was a scarring thing to discover in the middle of my kindergarten snack time, tell you that much. Haven't had one since.

[bigdumbbambieyes]

omg yummy Fruit Salad™️ made up of so many Fruits:

🍓(Chrissy Cunningham)

🍒 (Heather Holloway)

🍉 (Robin Buckley)

🍌 (Steve Harrington)

🥝 (Billy Hargrove)

🥭 (Argyle)

🫐 (Jonathan Byers)

[pinkwinesupernovas]

ZELIA CONGRATS ON 50 ILYSM U DESERVE EVERYTHING 🫶👏👏❤️

can i ask for kiwi cheesecake?

thank you and ofc babe !! <3

꒰ 🥝 ꒱— kiwi cheesecake : what iconic fandom duo we'd be + moodboard

duo : steve harrington and robin buckley from stranger things i think you're the robin to my steve because we would totally be work buddies at scoops ahoy plus i can imagine us solving crimes and kicking some demogorgon ass , and we'd be setting each other up with randos for funsies ahahahsjdj i associate you with robin because i think you've got the same level of sense of humor and sass and you're definitely just as cool and pretty as her <3

[cakiette]

.. ꒰ - ‌🐶 hello worldd !! >.< ֙⋆ ་ ᳝

🎀🐾 Elle // Clover // Fawn !!

♡🍀 She/her || Fem || Minor ୧ ‧₊˚

☆ Eng only please!! (Unless its a joke talk) 🍮🫘

‧₊˚ Intro inspired by @/kogalcutie! ໒꒱

🛼 I like my notifs getting blown up so go ham!! ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶

‼️ FYI, I do block freely, so if you are just a dick, i will be tempted to block you!!

⋆˙⟡ Mostly object show stuff!! 💤🫧

🍓🍰 DNI if you think ur an asshole + problematic ( + comship proship) in general!! ⋆˙⟡♡

🥞🗯️ Don’t compare my artstyle to others and/or don’t shame the way I draw!! >_&lt;; It makes me uncomfortable. ˎˊ˗

🥝🎀 DMs are open ˎˊ˗ You can have me insert tw/cw in a post. (If ya wanna talk to me normally but im not that familiar w/ u plz do it through asks cuz priv DMs do gimme anxiety)

🩵 Discord: cakiette || yes! We can be moots! But first off please get to know me first :’3 (read below ↓↓)

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ ᰔ Don’t treat me like ur friend immediately, give me time to develop! I’m pretty introverted !! I’m still looking for friends, idm the age, just the personality!! 🩹💒

Socials 𖦹 ´ ᯅ ` 𖦹

🐾🫂 @/skullputer — wattpad ✩࿐࿔

@ask-steve-cobs-ii — tumblr alt (im inactive on there sorry yall) 🎡

@mepad-daily — tumblr mepad alt! Just mepad stuffs :3 im sooo normal abt him !!!!

Moots 🥞💤

@xveii — Matcha 🍵 Shes so humorously goofy /pos but so enjoyable to b around!!

@24kvealie — Vealie 🛼 I like her vibe goin on,, :33

@milkiette — Yuna!! 🎀 My /p partner ilysm

@starigen — Lav ⭐️ I love her funny lil groove sm im ur #1 stan!! Ur so pretty u dont look real,, /pos BUT U HAVE AN ACTUAL PERSONALITY AND UR SMART TOO?? IM LOWK SCARED OF TALKING TO U BUT URR AMAZINGGGG

@laveries — Freya 💌 SHES SO SWEET !!! 🥹 she even once teached me to do math cuz my math teacher b ass

@qsarahs — Sarah 🧋Just Sarah :3 with a funky y2k fashion

@admiussion — Roxxi 🩻 so freaking silly tho

@euvqji — Alice 🤍 she’s genuinely so nice but i feel scared talking 2 her cuz shes so pretty :’(

@/psychicmisfortune — Psy 🔮 we barely talk but i consider ya a moot!!

☆ btw here is my objectsona / sona !! Her name is elle and she/her. Her designnn is based of off Moppu from Sanrio (I love moppu soo)

☆☆☆

[lonesome-witching]

🥭🍍🥝🍐🫐 hehe <3

Oh wow, that's quite a few. Thanks for the questions.

Rank from most enjoyable/fun to write to least: Fluff, Smut, Angst, Crack.

I don't know if I've written a lot of crack fics but I think I'll have to go: Fluff - Crack - Smut - Angst. Although I have learned to like writing smut. But it took a while to get used to it. I'm not a good angst writer though.

What kind of AUs do I like? Are there any AUs I hate or just generally have beef with?

When it comes to ronance, which is my focus of course, I tend to like most AU's. As long as they fall in love. I tend to be drawn to quite realistic AU's for some reason. I don't know if there are any I hate. I guess there should be but I can't of them at the moment.

What’s my favorite trope/AO3 tag to write?

I like writing friends to lovers. It flows easily. Or anything including mutual pining.

Is there anything in canon that I absolutely hate and love to fix in fics?

The whole Steve/Nancy season 4 storyline didn't make any sense. I like to forget that happened. Although, I don't know if I really tend to fix it in my fics or just ignore it.

What’s your favorite underrated thing in your fandom?

I still don't really know. I can't think of anything.

Ask a Question

[findroleplay]

🥝 it’s me, hi, i’m the problem, it’s me, an old lady (under 30, older than 21) who longs deeply for stranger things rps. 

right now, i’m really craving some either omegaverse omega!steve x alpha!eddie or ftm!steve x eddie, myself playing steve, and have some ideas involving pregnancy/children. i have other plot options in mind as well, and i’m definitely open to sharing them with the right person! 

🥝 i’d ideally be looking for someone who is comfortable writing advanced lit./novella, able to reply at least once a week. i don’t always have a bunch of free time, so i don’t expect daily replies, nor can i promise them in return! i adore talking and plotting and just vibing and sharing our thoughts behind these silly guys!! 

🥝 i primarily write on discord, where i’ll gladly set us up a server (mostly because i’m anal and enjoy the organization!!). if you think you’d be interested in chatting, please leave a like and i’ll get back to you! 💚

.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

🥝🥝🥝

Thank you!

I want to recommend @what-is-your-plan-today. She was one of the first people on Tumblr to really interact with me, engage in my writing and talk about storylines and different verses.

Her masterlist is mostly Chris Evans characters, filled with some OC's as well as Reader's that you can't help but fall in love with. She often writes with another, so you get a variety of stories and POV's.

Send a 🥝 for a rec

[bts-bangtanies]

BTS at Mnet Asian Music Awards - MAMA 2016 in Hong Kong 🇭🇰 - Where they performed “Boy Meets Evil" (Jimin & JHope solo stage), "Blood Sweat & Tears", "Fire"; and won awards x 2: Best Dance Performance - Male Group for "Blood Sweat & Tears" and Artist of the Year (Daesang) 🥑🥝🥒 - 2 December 2016

BTS at Mnet Asian Music Awards - MAMA 2017 in Hong Kong 🇭🇰 - where they performed “Not Today”, “DNA” and “Mic Drop (Steve Aoki Remix)”; “Cypher 4” (RM, Suga & JHope solo) and won awards x 3: Best Music Video for “Spring Day”, Best Asian Style (in Hong Kong), Artist of the Year (Daesang) 🧅🫚🧄 - 1 December 2017

BTS at Mnet Asian Music Awards 🎙️ - 10 to 14 December - MAMA Week 2018 in South Korea, Japan and Hong Kong ⛲️🎢🏯🧋

Where they performed “Fake Love” and “Anpanmam” in Japan (12 December 🇯🇵) and “Airplane Pt. 2”, “O!RUL8,2?”, “Love Yourself Remix” and “Idol” plus RM gave ‘Opening speech’, in Hong Kong (14 December 🇭🇰) 🪸💐🌺🪻🌸🌷🌼

MAMA 2018 x 9 awards including 3 Grand Prizes: Best Music Video “Idol”, Worldwide Fans’ Choice Top 10, Global Fans’ Choice, Favourite Music Video “Idol”, Favourite Dance Artist (Make), Best Asian Style, Album of the Year ‘Love Yourself: Tear’, Artist of the Year and Worldwide Icon of the Year

Plus Special Awards: Best Producer of the Year (Pdogg), Best Choreographer of the Year (Son Sung Deuk), Best Art Director of the Year (MU:E) and Best Executive Producer of the Year (Bang Si Hyuk)

Winning Daesang x 20 (grand prizes) since 2016 - 🥥🥝🍅🍍🍒🍈🍇

Artist of the Year x 7 (2016 - 2022)

Album of the Year x 5 (2018 - 2022): ‘Love Yourself: Tear’, ‘Map of the Soul: Persona’, ‘Map of the Soul: 7’, ‘Be’, ‘Proof’

Song of the Year x 3 (2019 - 2021): “Boy with Luv”, “Dynamite”, “Butter”

Worldwide Icon of the Year x 5 (2018 - 2022)

[dadsbongos]

steve harrington loses his mojo

7.3K words

warnings - blink and you’ll miss it suicide reference, steve harrington is depressed

summary - Steve and you are both depressed kids working towards nothing specific. Maybe you should kiss (AKA a convoluted three times Steve watches his friends be in happy relationships and the one time he gets into one).

AO3 Link

~~~

Part 1 - king steve’s dead

It’s been a long, long time since Steve has been in a relationship. It’s been a long time since he’s had somebody to lay down next to at night and quietly eat with and wake up to. Since he could turn to the side and see a smile he’d die for - kissing it away just to create a bigger one. Since he could hear someone say they love them.

His big house feels like a pharaoh's tomb as of late. Big and luxurious and for one person to decay in.

In a weird way, crushes made Steve feel alive. The locking of eyes from across a party that neither of them really want to be at, the shy waves and smiles, the giggling and teasing - the giddiness was a rush. The heartache and hopeless pining was pain, but it also worked. Sleepless nights and desperately hoping nobody notices the way you lean into someone a little closer than you should. Daydreams that turn into nightmares. Humiliation when you’re rejected. Having to smile and grit your teeth when you know that person could never feel the same. It all reminded him of the heart that faithfully beat inside his chest. Reminded him he was human and capable of love and loss and adoration and aching. As long as he was human, he could be loved.

When he and Nancy started dating he was alive. The sneaking into her room and kissing in the bathroom during zero hour. The doe eyes and cuddles. That very first time together in his bed. 

The brief crush he had on Carol after seeing Molly Ringwald in Tempest - endlessly painful to watch her and his (then) best friend, Tommy H., be happy and gross during that fall of ‘82. 

When he and Nancy broke up. He spent a good few weeks holed up in his room and pretending he wasn’t crying. Then he had to get a job and found himself a new friend.

The crush on Robin and the subsequent heartbreak of finding out there’s no way she could like him back. 

Then he moved on and it was fine.

But that’s how it remained.

Fine.

Nancy was dating Jonathon. He hadn’t seen Tommy and Carol since graduation. Robin had a crush on a girl that sounded nice. His ball and chain that took form in a group of children were even in healthy relationships. 

Steve used to go on a new date every night. 

Lately, the dates are decreasing in appeal and the girls in Hawkins, while very pretty and interesting in their own ways, don’t call to him. Not that it’s their fault or responsibility. His heart just can’t get into it the way it used to - which is bizarre because he’s always known himself to fall in love quickly.

A young lady maybe two years older than him is checking out The Tempest. She’s gorgeous - lips that he would’ve been begging to kiss if she came into the store just a few months ago, eyes he’d die to stare into under the moonlight if she came into the store just a few months ago, and hair he’d love to run his fingers through if she came into the store just a few months ago.

“I got a crush on Molly Ringwald from this movie,” he mutters, cataloging the checkout and handing the rental back to the woman.

“That’s…” she can’t even fake a smile, but she’s merciful enough to bring her tone up, “interesting.”

“Yeah,” he can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed and maybe that’s a sign he’s dying. Looking up at the woman, Steve plasters on his golden boy grin and plainly says, “We here at Family Video hope you have an incredible day.”

She nods and rushes away and Steve doesn’t blame her for a second.

“What was that?” Robin groans, coming out from the backroom, “Steve! You cannot parade yourself around as the charmer of Hawkins and then bomb that hard!”

Steve presses his lips thinly and shrugs, “A dud.”

“Do not call that innocent woman a dud,” Robin smacks his arm, “Steven Harrington, what would Mr. Rogers say?”

“‘I’m not mad, just disappointed,’” he grimaces, leaning back so his elbows support him on the counter, “That feels worse than if he was just mad.”

“Good,” Robin bumps Steve over with her hip, “But really - you’re starting to worry me. What’s your problem?” before he can respond, she turns and points in his face, “And don’t say ‘nothing’ because I know that’s not true, you’re totally off. You don’t flirt, and when you do it’s awkward and bad and makes me look like Tom Cruise.”

“I make you look weird?”

“You make me look smooth.”

Steve’s head hangs back, then turns to stare at Robin, picking at her black nail polish, “What if I’m designed to be single?”

“Designed to be single?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re not,” Robin pats his shoulder, but doesn’t look up from where her polish is chipping, “Nobody’s designed to be single unless they decide they are. What’s bringing this all up anyway? You’re not even twenty-two, it’s way too early for a life crisis right now.”

“I’m just saying, Rob,” Steve turns towards the double doors, though he still doesn’t stand upright, “I don’t feel good.”

“Like how?”

“Like I’m designed to be single.”

“Stop it,” she frowns now, though just one look at her face would tell him it’s downright mocking, “You’re Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington, you could bag anybody.”

“Don’t say bag,” he huffs.

“Don’t say you’re meant to be single, ‘cuz you’re way too clingy to be by yourself for eternity,” Robin leans on her side to look at Steve.

They’ve always been teasing - sometimes even plain rude - towards one another, but that was just their friendship. They’re best friends and best friends are often more cruel than even an acquaintance, but it’s all out of love and comfort. This time, however, it’s different.

Steve’s responding and trying to joke, but she can see that he doesn’t have it in him right now.

His brows are furrowed and his lips carve a frown into his face. His arms cross over one another and he sighs. 

The store is slow on this boring Tuesday afternoon, so Robin bites the bullet and lowers onto her elbows to be eye level with her suffering friend. She leans in and pouts.

“Wanna talk to Big Rob about it?” he doesn’t respond so she presses her thumb into his glabella and smoothens it, “If you keep scrunching your eyebrows like that, you’ll get wrinkles.”

“I use a great moisturizer.”

“Well, all the moisturizer in the world won’t listen to your problems like I will,” she knocks her elbow with his and can’t hold in her laugh when it tips his balance, “So spill. Where is this coming from?”

To be honest - it comes from Nancy Wheeler.

Turns out, being told that you’re bullshit and the entire relationship you’d been harboring was bullshit, and the girl you’d die for didn’t even love you was a real turn-off from relationships in the long run. Who knew that kind of stuff could cause a massive wave of insecurity?

But for the sake of keeping her name out of his mouth unless he’s tempted to vomit those insecurities, he keeps it light.

“I mean, I’m just watching all my friends be in happy relationships and I’m… stuck.”

“Well, tell me about it.”

Steve stands up straight, running a hand through his hair before crossing his arms again, “Fucking Henderson.”

~~

The night is cold and dark and Steve’s shivering because he lent his jacket to Dustin after specifically telling the shrimp to make sure he brought his own. Of course, Dustin was not an excellent listener when it came to anything outside of battling off monsters and left his jacket at home.

He’s left in a thin long sleeve, leaning against the hood of his BMW - he would be sitting inside with the heater on if it weren’t for the fact he was trying to save on gas. Dustin’s at the top of the hill he’d dedicated a makeshift radio tower to talking with Suzie.

Could Dustin just have used the powerful radio he and Suzie upgraded to following the summer of ‘85? Sure, but when Steve suggested that - Dustin shook his head.

“It’s about the nostalgia, Harrington. The old times.”

“I don’t get that at all.”

“And that’s why you don’t have a super genius, super babe, super girlfriend.”

“Shut up and get in the car, Henderson.”

Get in the car, he did, and now Steve was impatiently tapping his foot in wait like a child whose mom just ran into a friend at the grocery store. 

It’s been twenty minutes and Steve grows sufficiently fed up (though if he’s being honest, waiting for Dustin isn’t that much of a chore) and climbs up the hill.

What he sees is almost enough to make him believe in young love again.

Dustin is grinning, broad and sweet, mindlessly plucking and twirling grass as he speaks and listens. He cracks a joke or tells a story and waits in earnest until Suzie’s giggles ring through the air and the way he buzzes at the sound is something straight out of a book. He pays utmost attention to whatever Suzie is saying and lights up at every syllable she spills.

Dustin’s eyes land on Steve and his posture shoots upright, “Do we have to go?”

His tone is dismal, almost heartbroken, no matter how hard he’s trying to hide it.

Steve, against his desires for other things to do with his free time, shakes his head, “Just wanted to make sure you were still up here. Hurry up, though - your mom will kill me if you’re not tucked in for story time.”

“Haha,” Dustin sarcastically calls.

Steve makes his way back down the hill and slides down to a lonely sit in the grass. He can faintly hear Dustin speaking animatedly - laughing and teasing and all the things Steve used to do.

~~

“Sounds rough,” Robin pats Steve’s back, “Sorry you got upstaged by a toddler and his girlfriend in Salt Lake City.”

“He’s fourteen, first of all,” Steve glares at the girl, “Second; I wasn’t upstaged.”

“You were jealous.”

“Not jealous,” he grumbles.

“Well, I am sorry that you had to go through that,” she’s not sure what exactly it was he went through in that story, but the words are what Steve needs right now so it’s what she says.

“It’s not just that,” his eyes flicker to Robin for just a second, “Last weekend, too.”

~~

“I’m not a chauffeur, you know.”

“Right, you’re a clerk at Family Video,” Mike looks up at Steve and smiles sardonically, “That sounds a lot better.”

Steve rolls his eyes but doesn’t lower the lackluster sign Mike had made for his girlfriend. Not that he was holding it very high in the first place. Just raised as high as his chest, was a rectangle cut from cardboard with ‘EL’ written on it in Sharpie. 

Hawkins wasn’t big enough to justify its own airport, so Eleven had to take a domestic flight from California to an Indianapolis airport. Forcing Mike to force Steve to make the hour drive. 

Mike is in the ugliest get up Steve’s ever seen. A yellow and blue floral Hawaiian shirt with neon yellow swim trunks and blue sneakers. Dandelions and wild teasels found on the side of the road are bunched in Mike’s hand, fingers cut and bleeding from the prickly thorns of the teasel stems. He’s smiling as a flush of people come out of the terminal and Steve moves his eyes up to catch Eleven as she comes towards them.

One hand holding a yellow backpack, the other waving at them excitedly.

Steve returns the wave and pretends to not care when she skips past him to hug Mike. It isn’t like he’s the bestest of friends with Eleven, but he’d thought they were closer than her pretending he doesn’t exist.

For the first time since Steve met Mike, the boy actually gives a tight hug - practically squeezing Eleven’s body to his in their reunion. 

“How was your flight?” Mike reaches down for his girlfriend’s hand when they pull apart, “Did you get to sleep at all?”

Eleven quietly hums and nods, “It was nice. I got to watch a movie.”

“Wow,” Mike’s actually smiling as he talks, “what movie?”

Steve doesn’t get to hear the answer because while he pops the trunk and takes Eleven’s backpack - the couple move to the backseats and climb in. He’s left alone in the front of his nice car and tries not to overhear whatever plans Mike and Eleven are conjuring.

“A new diner just opened up, actually,” Mike is watching as Eleven plays with his bony fingers, “I could take you, if you want.”

Eleven looks up at Mike, a shy smile peeks at her lips and reaches the eyes. She nods slowly, “I would want that.”

Then the awkward teenage hormones resurface and Mike chuckles, eyes falling to their thighs that are barely touching, “Nice.”

She giggles and leans into her boyfriend’s shoulder, “Nice.”

~~

“I didn’t know Wheeler was capable of that kinda affection,” Robin shakes her head, “He doesn’t look like very good boyfriend material.”

Steve taps his fingers against the wooden counter, “I didn’t know either.”

Hopefully, he’s only taken example from the best parts of how Steve treated Nancy. If he’s taken Steve as an example at all.

God, he hopes not actually.

No colleges. No career endeavors. Just a clerk at Family Video with his best friend who’s still in high school. His other best friend is also still in high school and is currently replacing him with Eddie Munson. Ex-girlfriend basically left him for the guy that took pictures of her through a window while she was half-naked.

Destined for Hawkins. Designed to be a loser. The epitome of peaked in high school.

“Anything else?” Robin asks, tone much more careful than before.

~~

Lucas and Max are on shaky ground, but they’re together. Beginning to get back together, anyway. He’s gentle and soft but still ribbing and acerbic when she needs him to be. Max is getting better slowly - sometimes she falls and curls into a ball, but Lucas is always holding out a hand to help her up (and when she refuses to take it, he sits down next to her and waits until she’s ready).

It’s enough to make a grown man cry.

“Movie’s up to you tonight,” Lucas settles his chin on Max’s head as they stand in front of the horror section. 

Steve almost wants to call out how he has to stand on his tip-toes to do it. 

Max narrows her eyes at the selections, “They all look bad.”

“Well, what about…” Lucas pauses and then lifts a movie from the shelf, “Halloween - you like Halloween, right?”

“Yeah,” she shrugs, “I don’t know - it’s kinda overplayed now, don’t you think?”

“No,” he steps back and to her side, brows furrowed, “I think it’s cool.”

“Really?” she looks at him like she doesn’t believe him, but her lips are already beginning to quirk up, “You wanna watch Halloween?”

“If you want to, then I’d love to,” he nods resolutely, “Like I said, ‘s all up to you.”

Max takes the movie in his hands and turns it in her own, her lips purse and she looks up at Steve. Then back to Lucas, “Yeah, let’s get this one.”

Steve wonders why he couldn’t be like that for Nancy. What genius did Lucas maintain inside that dense head that Steve was incapable of?

~~

“Ouch,” Robin hisses, “stings for a high schooler to be better at relationships than you. Multiple high schoolers, actually. That sucks.”

“Thanks, Robin. Didn’t know that.”

“Clearly.”

Steve inhales deeply and sighs, “And then there’s you and your pining. With Vic.”

Vic - easy code name for Vickie so that nobody in public knew they were talking about a girl.

“Oh, that reminds me- “ Robin sparks up and claps, “not pining anymore. Dating.”

“What?!”

“Yeah.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I kept forgetting.”

“How do you forget that?”

Robin shrugs, then smiles, “It’s cool though, right?”

“Very, Rob,” Steve musters up a grin and nods, “I’m happy for you. Really, I am.”

“I get it,” she punches his shoulder, “We’ll celebrate when you’re not feeling so…” she tosses up her hands, “bleh!”

“Yeah,” he looks at the clock and sees it’s almost closing time, “wait till the bleh era is over.”

Robin follows his lead and moves to the back room, “I’ll start cleaning, can you get the sign?”

“Yeah,” he knocks his knuckles against the counter.

There’s no customers left inside and Steve flips the sign at the door to read ‘closed’. It’s then he notices a familiar figure sitting right outside on the curb. His eyes widen and he throws the door open, “Holy shit, Birdie?”

Birdie - an easy (and cheap) nickname for the former captain of the Hawkins High golf team, infamous for her luck in making birdies. 

You turn and see Steve Harrington hanging out of Family Video, “King Steve? I heard you worked here, didn’t know it was true.”

He pretends that doesn’t sting and moves to sit beside you, “What? Too unbelievable that I have to make a living?”

“No, I just…” you shrug, “I dunno, it didn’t sound like you.”

Steve tilts his head at that, “And what does sound like me?”

Your eyes flip to him and suddenly he’s remembering why he had a crush on you in high school. You crack a grin, “Male stripper.”

“I tried but I couldn’t bulk up enough,” he sighs disappointedly and bathes in your laughter, “What about you? What’re you up to?”

His eyes are strangely sincere, in a way you’d never seen back in school. You had a crush on him back then - who didn’t? With that hair and that smile and that charisma. 

“Working at the movie theater,” you find it hard to look away from Steve, his face almost hypnotic.

“You, uh, disappeared towards the end of the year there,” he lays his legs out into the barren street, “What happened?”

“I…” you look away and then look back, waving your hands about dramatically, “dropped out.”

“What?” his jaw drops open.

“Yeah. Well, I just stopped going and then when I failed, I chose to drop out rather than repeat the year.”

“Why’d you stop going?” he moves closer, “Everyone thought you just moved or something, not that you… Nobody knew where you were.”

“Yeah,” you scratch at the back of your neck, “I just lost motivation and then paid for it.”

That was putting it lightly. You were like a candle that someone forgot to put out - burnt at the wick until the wax was too low to be used. Between golf (which you can’t say you even had much passion for by the time you were a senior) and grades and the social hierarchy and realizing how dismal the world of adulthood looked - the idea of even getting out of bed began to sicken you.

You were destined to Hawkins, now. Working easy jobs that would hire without a diploma and hope you made enough to move somewhere far from here.

“What’re you doing here anyway?” you tilt your head and bring your knees up, “I thought King Steve had big, fancy parents to pay for a big, fancy college.”

“King Steve’s dead and his parents didn’t pay for anything,” he sighs, “but I’m kinda glad they didn’t. I don’t think I would’ve learned to be better if they did.”

“Then I’m happy for you,” you nod.

Steve looks up at the swirling sunset sky, “What’re you doing sitting outside this dump?”

“Supposed to meet a guy here.”

Eddie Munson. Your dealer since junior year - turned genuine friend during that summer - then neighbor when you dropped out and your parents kicked you out.

“My car broke down on my way to work, so I’m getting a ride,” you further explain.

“I could give you a ride,” Steve stands when you do, his hands shove into his pockets and he hates the way he wants you in his car.

Guess that high school flame wasn’t as high school as he thought.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” you lean your head out and see Eddie’s van making its way down the road, “He’s already here.”

Steve looks between you and Eddie incredulously, “You’re riding with Munson.”

It’s a statement but the way his voice drags makes it clear he’s giving you room to deny. 

“Yup,” you pop the ‘p’ and pat his shoulder, “See you around?”

“Actually,” Steve has no idea where he’s going but thankfully his brain managed to retain some of his flirting ability, “I’d like to catch up more, if that’s okay with you?”

“Catch up how?”

“However you want.”

“You can come over, if Forest Hills won’t infect you or anything.”

“The trailer park?” there must be an underlying tone that he doesn’t even catch because you’re suddenly pulling back and your hand is on the door.

“You don’t have to.”

“No,” Steve steps forward, trying to grin and ease whatever nerves his stupid tone caused, “I want to. I just - asking. I was just asking.”

“Yeah,” you’re quieter than before, “the trailer park.”

A peek at the suspiciously quiet Eddie reveals the disgust painted on his face and Steve has to ignore it if he wants to survive a conversation with the girl he thought was cooler than even him in school.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. When do you want me?”

“Whenever you can be there,” you shrug, “I’m not picky.”

“I just have to finish closing up,” he thumbs back to the store.

“Then when you’re finished closing up,” you open the passenger door and climb into the seat beside Eddie.

Steve turns back towards the front door of Family Video but before he can get inside, you’re calling back to him.

“Hey, Steve!” he turns, eyes stupidly wide and brows raised, “The king doesn’t die until he surrenders.”

What the fuck does that mean?

He doesn’t ask and you don’t explain. You two wave to one another and before Eddie’s even driving off, Steve can hear him talking shit from the driver’s seat. You laugh and Steve doesn’t waste his time on a pity party.

Steve returns to the store and Robin is standing in the romance section, jaw hanging and a few movies scattered at her feet.

“What was that?” she gestures towards the front windows.

“Just an old friend,” Steve shrugs.

“Old friends don’t look like they wanna kiss each other.”

“It was a conversation.”

“Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t wanna kiss her.”

When Steve doesn’t respond, Robin makes a proud ‘hmph’ and picks up the movies she dropped.

There’s an underlying numbness to Steve and while you’re a short burst of excitement, you don’t cure it. Something inside him worries this feeling is forever. Another thing inside him worries that he deserves it.

Part 2 - when birdie’s wings were clipped

Wake up. Eat. Get ready and go to school. Smile and pretend you don’t hate the popular kids that wouldn’t hesitate to tear you apart if you weren’t exactly as they wanted you to be. Go home. Eat. Sleep.

And the day repeats until the weekend pops up. Then you get the pleasure of going to whatever party the basketball team and your golf team members begged you to go to until you wind up at home at whatever hour in the morning. It became a dismal existence. Quickly so. 

Towards the end of senior year, the four years came to a climax as you realized that everything you’d done had hardly been for yourself. You tried so hard to be popular and successful that now you were drowning in the anxieties of how you could live when you grew up. 

It started small - dropping out of golf, intentionally not doing homework, smoking weed in the boys’ bathroom with Eddie, skipping classes. Then you stopped going altogether.

You felt cheated out of high school experiences you really wanted and with college - then careers - so close, one could say that you snapped. Well, if you bothered calling any of the friends you sort of hated and telling them, then they might have.

But you didn’t. Not even Chrissy Cunningham, who you genuinely did like. Eddie only knew you were alive because you still visited him (partially for weed, partially for a laugh when you felt like crying).

Your mom didn’t know you weren’t going every day. Only because you would delete the messages Ms. Kelly left the machine before your parents could come home. Sometimes you left them and would grit your teeth through the lectures and stares. You pretended that graduation wasn’t coming up and you acted as though you would be graduating.

And then, three days before graduation, Ms. Kelly called your mom to tell her that you wouldn’t be graduating in your senior year. 

The call was early enough to where your mother hadn’t left for work yet and could answer before it even went to the machine. She was mad enough that you dropped out of golf after earning yourself that cutesy nickname “Birdie”, but now she was seething. You couldn’t even bring yourself to fight her on it.

“Do you even care?!” she threw her hands into the air and laughed humorlessly when you didn’t reply, “Of course, you don’t! Why would you? It’s not like you have to fucking pay for anything! You never even had to get a job because we loved you and wanted you home, and this is how you repay us?! How fucking dare you!”

An apology will get you nowhere and fighting it will get you killed (hyperbolically, at least). So, you keep your head down and stare down at the kitchen tiles.

“Get out,” your mother huffs and that makes your eyes snap to her.

You shake your head - then stand, “What?”

“Get out,” she’s straight-faced, “I’m not kidding. I want you out of my fucking house by the time I’m home from work.”

 “Mom, I- I’m sorry, but don’t do this, I have no money and nowhere to go- " 

Your mother turns, shaking her head as she charges for the front door, “I don’t give a shit. You wanna slack off and be like your little Munson freak? Go ahead. But you will not do that under my fucking roof.”

Eddie was failing senior year, too. He didn’t tell you, but judging by how unenthused he was for the end of the year, you already knew.

You weren’t even out of your pajamas but you were packing up your childhood possessions - blood boiling and brain set to fuck her mode. If she wanted you out, then fine.

By two in the afternoon, your belongings were packed and you were dialing Eddie’s number. With a tapping foot and two more hours until your mother came home, you were desperate for lodging. 

“Hey, Ed? Is that empty lot still available at the park?”

To say you had no money would be a lie. Your money was all a secret, it was what you saved for emergencies when Eddie needed a little help selling or sorting and would pay you. Not enough for an apartment or house, but definitely enough for a trailer and the lot space.

Probably no electricity for a while, but you could live with candles. 

By three in the afternoon, you were moved into Forest Hills Trailer Park. No note or call home to speak of and you’re sure that your mother didn’t bother calling your father about your impromptu eviction.

By seven the next morning, you had a job at the Hawkins movie theater (that quickly thrived following the fiery destruction of Starcourt mall) and that next month, you had electricity and water.

If you had an answering machine for your phone, it surely would’ve been out of commission from how many calls your parents left. Depending on which parent called, they were different - but ended the same.

MOTHER

“You knew I wasn’t being serious, you ungrateful brat. You’re making me look bad, now come home and get out of that disgusting park.”

“No.”

“I won’t stand for this, young lady. If you aren’t home by tomorrow morning, I’m sending the police and they will escort you back to me!”

There was nothing the police could do when you were eighteen, so the threat was incredibly empty. You never went home.

FATHER

“You knew your mom wasn’t being serious. Just come home and we’ll get past this.”

“No.”

Dads of the 80s weren’t known for their excessive emotional output, and your father wasn’t a superb exception. He loved you, but he wasn’t about to beg you to come home. 

The days rolled by the same.

You got up at noon. Ate. Got ready for and subsequently went to work. Got home late. Ate. Went to bed. Smoke sessions with Eddie are sprinkled throughout the day at your leisure. 

The numbness of high school didn’t fade and you were growing alarmed that the burning boredom was forever. Only split up by the momentary joys of sharing life with your friends. Well, lately, it’s only been the sophomores (and one elderly woman) you work with and Eddie that are qualifying as your friends. Not that you’re complaining much, but there’s a certain embarrassment that sparks when people recognize you and ask who you’re running with now.

You’ve heard a few stories about King Steve.

“A total deadbeat.”

“Hangs out with actual kids, now.”

“Best friends with his ex’s little brother.”

It’s never any of your business, so you can’t say that you pay all that much attention to it.

That’s a motto of yours. Sort of.

You keep your head down and stay in your lane. Life spins and Earth continues.

So when you’re heading to Family Video so Eddie can pick you up on his way home, you pretend to not see Steve Harrington - just in case he’s embarrassed to be recognized. Lord knows how much shame builds under your black uniform polo when kids see your Voted-Most-Likely-to-Succeed ass stuck behind the concession stand at the Hawkins theater.

You sit on the curb and act like you aren’t tempted to actually say hi. You had a crush on him in high school, after all. And who doesn’t daydream about rekindling that sort of romance?

Old flames that were only ever smoldering. A chance to start over. 

It’s a nice daydream. But even if you did, it’d just be brief, right?

A bell chimes and a voice calls from behind, “Holy shit, Birdie?”

Part 3 - a cheesy line and fairy lights

There wasn’t much to catch up on. Steve knew that before asking you and he’s certain that you knew that before agreeing. Maybe you had enjoyed his presence like he had enjoyed yours. Maybe you were just lonely.

Your trailer is as tidy as the lack of storage space will allow. He gets first pick of the seats on the couch and decides on the one farthest from the door - a peculiar attempt to apologize for his slip of judgment. As if by showing you he has no problem being in your trailer, you’ll forget the sneer he didn’t even notice when he spoke.

Steve remembers you being a breath of fresh air and a sprinkle of sunlight at Hawkins High and he can see glimpses of that in your living room. The fairy lights strung up and the candles carefully set on your coffee table (“They’re prettier than the regular lamps, ya know?” you reasoned as soon as he stepped inside). Your offering of different teas as opposed to water.

Then - suddenly the lights flicker and Steve’s body freezes. They cut and inky black stretches through the room. Not even the streaming moonlight is enough to make up for the sudden blackout.

He’s been here before. In ‘83 and ‘84 and ‘85 and now it’s happening again - he’s been here before. At the Byers’ home and Starcourt - again and again. 

His body is frozen and he feels useless, muscles clenching and lungs growing heavy. Memories like hallucinations flash before him in vivid detail. The Demogorgon and demodogs and the Mind Flayer stretch before him and he can imagine each spore and gaping maw that wishes to gnaw the flesh from his bones.

There’s no Nancy to give him orders and there’s no kids to watch and there’s no monster immediately in sight and he’s petrified where he sits.

“Stupid fucking electricity,” you, however, sound completely cool, “Sorry, Steve, this shit goes in and out sometimes.”

When he doesn’t respond, you listen carefully and pick up his labored breathing. It’s the overworked raggings of someone scared and now you really feel bad because you didn’t know he was scared of the dark.

“Here,” you call to him as tenderly as you can, your hand scrambles for his and he jumps - but takes the hand you offer, “You’re okay, Steve, you’re okay. ‘m right here, you’re safe. I promise.”

You have no idea why he’s stuck frozen - not the real reason, anyway, but he thinks it’s sweet of you to try. 

Steve feels you crawl closer to him on the couch and his hand winds tighter around yours.

“I’m right here,” you reach out for his other hand and hold it, “You’re okay, Steve. Everything’s fine.”

The lights don’t flicker - they remain off. The scent of blood doesn’t sting his nose and there’s no screeching. No chills that creep over his skin.

It truly is a simple power outage.

He blinks himself into sobriety and clears his throat, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you release one of his hands but he keeps the one between you two in his hold.

You move back to sitting but now you’re closer than before. He can feel your body heat against his and something about that rekindles the life in him.

Not in a way that he couldn’t live if you suddenly walked away, but that by being next to you he could revive the King Steve that you liked. The nice one, from before his ego stepped in.

The nasty one Nancy killed and Robin burned. A little unrequited love was all Steve needed.

If it weren’t for the women in Steve’s life, he’d be nowhere and he’s grateful every day for them. But it makes him think about every girl from his past and woman of his future that he may wrong or has wronged. If there’s even women in his future.

“You’re quiet,” he feels you gently prod his side with a finger, “You didn’t die, right?”

“Thinking.”

“Uh oh.”

“Shut up,” he’s laughing, though. He doesn’t mean it. He never would.

“What’s on your mind, Stevie?”

“I feel like I’m supposed to be alone,” he admits.

It’s easier to be honest when you can’t see the person’s reaction to your truth. Right now, he’s pretending you’re shocked.

But you don’t sound shocked, “I don’t think anybody’s supposed to be alone, unless they want to be.”

“I’m not a… great guy.”

“Steve, just because you were a douchebag in high school does not mean you’re being punished by the universe with eternal loneliness.”

“But what if I am? I wasn’t a good guy.”

“You were a dick, yeah, but you weren’t a monster. Besides, you’re better - and getting better still. That’s something,” he can hear you sigh, “Besides, if one of us has to be punished, it should be me.”

“Because you stopped going to school? I don’t buy that.”

“I just stopped doing everything. I could barely bring myself to eat and ignored my friends. I feel like I’m just - a barnacle on a whale. Growing up was so terrifying because it was just working and working and working at a job you probably hate after going to college for a degree you probably won’t use and I was so scared of falling into that, that I let the last pieces of my childhood rot.”

“You’re still young… If it makes you feel better - I literally couldn’t get into any colleges without my dad’s money because I never actually did anything other than party and make out with the girl who would eventually say she didn’t love me.”

Yeah, trauma dumping is easier in the dark when you can’t see the other person’s reaction.

“That does. A little. Not that I’m happy you’re not in college or Wheeler screwed you over, it’s just nice to know I’m not crazy for feeling like this.”

He never thought that Nancy screwed him over, not really anyway. Sure, it wasn’t the right thing - to pretend and lie when you knew the other person loved you - but he deserved it, right?

“Yeah. It’s… nice,” his eyes close and he shakes his head, “This might sound dumb.”

“You usually do.”

“Hilarious,” he feels you poke his side again and he swats at the air between you, “I had a crush on you. Like, major crush.”

“No way,” he hears you mock gasp and heat crawls over his neck, “The Steve Harrington had a crush on me?” he nods before remembering you can’t see him, “I had a crush on you, too.”

“No shit?” his lips rise subconsciously, a smile creeping up so hard his cheeks hurt, “Since when?”

“Freshman year.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not. You were cute in a nervous, football-playing dweeb-with-cool-hair kind of way.”

“And you didn’t say anything?”

“You were always dating, was I supposed to think that was a ploy to flirt with me?”

“Actually, yeah, you’re right. I sounded dumb.”

“Once again, you usually do. You’re not dating anybody right now, right?”

“Single as the small kid when they pick dodgeball teams.”

“Just say yes, dork.”

“Yes.”

You giggle at his lame jokes and there’s the sting of life at his heart, “Wanna sound dumb on a date sometime?”

“God, yes. I was worried you were just gonna rub it in.”

“I thought about it.”

You changed since high school. You’re more sarcastic. More willing to rib and pick at someone - though never in a hurtful way. You’re still down to earth and he thinks you’re even prettier since those days in the pale halls of Hawkins High.

“I’m glad you didn’t move away,” Steve turns his head in your direction.

Unbeknownst to him, you were looking in his direction this whole time. You nod curtly and squeeze his hand, “I’m glad King Steve changed for the better.”

“I’m not King Steve anymore.”

The lights flicker back on and you’re both swamped in the orange lamp light of your trailer. Steve notices how close your faces are, if he just leans forward a couple inches then his lips would be on yours. You don’t pull away.

The fairy lights are in strobe mode. A gentle twinkling that flutters and reflects off of Steve’s brown eyes.

You grin and press your face just a pinch closer, “Who are you then?”

He has no idea.

King Steve’s corpse is rotting in a big house with no parents. The Babysitter is useless until one of his kids that’s happier than he ever was in high school comes around. Mr. Popular hanged himself in the doorway of Scoops Ahoy and his ghost floats through the neon lights of Family Video. Prom King was dancing alone in the Hawkins High gym to the sound of illusioned cheers.

He peaked in high school and now he has a life he used to make fun of people for living.

“I like to think I’m pretty funny,” he shrugs and pushes back his hair, desperately hoping you can’t see through the false bravado.

He thinks you can, but you just think he’s pretty.

“You are funny,” you agree quietly, “but that’s not all you are. You’re nice, apparently.”

“Apparently?” he rears back, eyes wide, “Wow.”

“Well,” you laugh at his expression, “you hang around the kids, right? The D&D ones? They talk about you sometimes - they like you a lot.”

“Those brats better like me,” he scoffs, “I’m their ride to, like, everything.”

“Don’t tell them I told you,” you lower your voice as if they’re anywhere nearby, “but they wanna take you to see that Ferris Bueller movie.”

“Are you serious?” he sighs and tosses his head back.

“Hey,” you swat his shoulder and he looks back up at you, “they think you’ll like it. You should give it a shot.”

Those kids are a pain in Steve’s ass, but he can’t lie and say he doesn’t love them like his own siblings. Yeah, his best friends are all about six years younger than him, but they’ve gone to hell and war together and when it comes down to it - he’ll die for those little shits. And now he has to stop them from doing the same for him.

The realization thrums warmth through his veins. He smiles and relents, “Yeah, maybe I should,” but before you can tease and snark, he continues, “but if it’s bad, I’m giving them endless shit for it.”

You just roll your eyes, “I bet you will.”

“If you ever want a discount on movie rentals,” Steve jabs a thumb into his chest, “I’m your guy.”

“I’ll certainly rely on you. If you ever want movie theater discounts then you’re shit out of luck because their main goal is to make things as expensive as possible.”

“Damn, I was just foaming at the mouth for half-off popcorn.”

“I know, I know, everyone’s after me for it.”

You two stop talking and the silence is filled with zeal. Usually on dates, the quiet is awkward and bland - but now it’s almost kind. Almost welcomed. 

There has never been a collar on his heart quite like the one you leashed him with. All within one blackout.

“I know a lot of people have a no-kissing rule on the first date,” Steve begins, “but technically this isn’t even a date. So…”

You gasp as though scandalized, “Steven Harrington, are you saying you want to kiss me?”

“I am,” he looks up at you through his lashes, “Do you want to kiss me?”

“I do,” you murmur, your free hand coming up to land in his soft hair, “I think a kiss would be nice. For the old high school romance that never happened.”

Steve chuckles and leans up, lips brushing yours as he whispers, “For the old high school romance that should have happened.”

Or maybe it shouldn’t have. Whatever. It was a cheesy line and it got you to giggle and that’s more than enough for him.

If you two were dating in high school then nothing would’ve changed. You probably would’ve crumbled to expectations and kept going to school to land in a college you hated and he never would’ve gotten a terminal case of ego death. 

It’s weird, but he’s glad you two didn’t date.

He likes himself a little more than he did a few hours ago. He likes you more now than he did in high school. Past the pretty face and popularity, he likes the lines you spit and he wants to know every thought you harbor.

He didn’t peak in high school, Steve realizes as you tug softly on his hair, he was on the decline of progress - he’s making his way to a peak.

The numbness dies a little more and Steve’s excited to wake up tomorrow for the first time in a long time.

Not necessarily because of you, but he’d be lying if he said you didn’t help. Your words are comforting and eye-opening all at once.

The kids love him and he has a job that pays decently with his best friend as a coworker. He has a nice home and he has every good trait that he used to like about himself. 

Steve Harrington is doing just fine - and now he might even be on his way to getting a girlfriend who uses fairy lights instead of proper light bulbs (not that he’d have you any other way).

[nostalgicbones]

halloween stranger things gift exchange—interest check!

🍊🍋🍓🥝🍍🫐🍇

think secret santa, but for spooky season 🎃👻 you fill out a form with what character combinations you enjoy creating for, then put a couple prompts for whoever ends up making your gift, and i hand match each person to maximize enjoyment!

the minimum age to participate will be 16, and the maximum rating allowed will be PG-13.

the characters included are steve, robin, eddie, nancy, jonathan, argyle, and chrissy. they can be combined in any way you choose (except for robin in a m/f romantic pairing).

if there are any combinations of characters you do not like it’ll be easy to exclude those in the signup form.

you don’t have to be a writer or artist, you could also make a moodboard, gifset, or playlist!

gift posting day would be october 31st

questions are more than welcome if you have any.

please reblog if you are interested, and i’ll ping you when signups go up (which would be sometime next week)

[steve-harrington-is-bi]

Head-canons

Steve

Bisexual💘💜💙

Listens to Queen

Dyslexic

Dog person

Loves RomComs

Loves Musicals

Looks like a cinnamon roll, is a cinnamon roll (unless you mess with his kids 😡)

Has Choc lab energy

Born in Italy moved to Hawkins when he was 4

Italian is his first language

Eddie

ADHD

Fruity🍎🍊🍋🥝🫐🍆

Listens to Nirvana and Nickleback

Cat person

Pyromaniac [sets marshmallows on fire :)]

Loves Horror/Slasher films

Is a conspiracy theorist

Looks like they could kill you, is actually a cinnamon roll

Has Husky energy

Ships

The polycule where Steve, Jonathan and Nancy are dating each other, Only Steve is dating Eddie, Only Jonathan is dating Argyle and only Nancy is dating Robin and Robin is also dating Vickie 🥰👍

[cakiette]

OLD INTRO REMAKING SOON!!

Hii!! I’m elle :3 ! She/her,,, i prefer to keep my age private

other me’s: @ask-steve-cobs-ii :: @skullputer

check me out on wattpad!11! I post bangers on there!!1 @skullputer

idm troll asks atp lol

i need friends idc what age i need friends idc what age i need frien

FACTZZ ♡🍶🫐

・i rlly like object shows!! Since 2019!!! >.<

・my typing quirks r misspelling stuffs and s = z :3

・i luv using :3 and ^_^ stuffs like that (emoticonss,,)

・ @milkiette >>>>>>>>!!! BTWWW!! ILY POOKIE,,! 🦴🎀

・kawaiikore…. 🤍🤍

・i plan on doing art commissionz when i am confident enuff!! 🍥

・i will never ever!! Sell my ocsss Σ੧(❛□❛✿)!! I luv them smm

・reblogs + posts abt my object ocs, fanart, stuff like that (+ cute stuff prolly??)

・im pretty unorganized soo dont be surprised if everything on this blog is MESSYYY!!

・i dont bite if u wanna be friendz or ask me smth, even if ur an adult :3

・art inspos,, @/maxphilippa on tumblr, @/rawrvioli on yt, @/26nightmares on yt, @/cideramese on yt, bfyop/battle/@bfyopYT for your own planet on yt, kittydog on yt, moccabliss on yt, @/mothytheghost on tumblr, @_mecintosh on twitter.

MOOTS 🍮⭐️

・@laveries | freya <33 | UR OBJECT OCS R PRETTY!!!!

・@milkiette | yuna | RAHHH NEW POOKIE!! ILYSM!

・im looking forward to being friens with anybodyy :3333 idc what age as long as ur not a creep!! Then ur cool!!!!!!

・once i become friens w u i might take a while bc i have social anxietyyy

BOUNDRIES 🥝🌴

・be annoying af and ur buh-buh-buh- BLOCKED!!!!

・Dont treat me as ur frien right away,, i have social anxiety 😔‼️

・no dms unless we r mutuals ty im js a scared meow meow ><

・DONT SUCK MY DICK AND BE A CREEP. I AM A MINOR. ‼️

・Pls no comparing my artstyle to someone else’s no matter how similar • 3 • i get uncomfy w that

・i put paws and clothes on my object characters, they aint furries fyi. If i draw animals,,, dont call me a furry artist idc if its a joke just please dont >:(( it makes me feel weird abt drawing animals.

DNI: if ur overall a dick, comship, proship, basic dni criteria, oc stealers, hardcore Christian,, NFT art traders + collectors, creeps, ppl who shame artstyles gtfo, ppl who shame rarepairs/crackships/canon x oc, simps ermm.

BYF: I don’t post much,, i usually reblog/rb or just make fanart and stuffs for my fav blogss,,

IF UR HERE JUST TO SHAME HOW I PUT PAWS N CLOTHES ON MY OBJECT CHARACTERS,,,,, GET OUTTA HEREE!!!!!! 💢(● ˃̶͈̀ロ˂̶͈́)੭ꠥ⁾⁾ DNI!

Oki thats all abt me baibai :33

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Lavender Steve at a photoshoot (maybe for his future daddy? Pre-subby bby Steve, just model Steve for now). He’s got on a nice soft lavender set that goes perfectly with his soft pink blush. And they’re having him eat fruit. Strawberries. Kiwi. Pineapple. Mango. Dragonfruit. Anything juicy and sweet that drips down his fingers and face and makes a certain daddy in the background drop his jaw 🍓🥝🍍🥭

Okay okay okay as much as I love love love love the idea lavender Steve being a model before he meets his Daddy I just-

I have to cling to the origin of lavender Steve because he lives so viciously rent free in my mind...

(btw if anyone wants to read the backlog then you can find it here -> 1 2 3 4 5 )

And in origin, this Steve was Captian America. However, at the time of his hedonism (affectionate) with pretty purple things he's somewhere after CA:TWS but before Infinity War and nomad Steve. He's clean shaven, sun-bleached blonde, and soft and subby and pretty. Completely ready for change after the portion of life he's just been dragged, kicking and screaming, through.

Lavender Steve retired after Bucky re-surfaced. In my head, I assumed that part of the appeal for them in this dynamic was that Bucky got to take control again, healing from HYDRA that way, whereas Steve got to finally give over control after spending years as team leader being Captain America. Hyper masculine, admitting no weaknesses, emotional or physical.

Anyway though-

I have to run with this idea though. The mental image of Steve doing a teasing, sensual photoshoot with lingerie and fruit? Too. Good. I'm in love and have heart palpitations.

Jesus.

Lemme just bend this a little.

Steve doing this for Bucky, getting professional photographs done (the photos from a photographer they can both trust, a woman who owes Nat a favor... the why of the owed favor is shaky and shady but so's a lot of things Nat does. Unfortunately and fortunately. Natasha's only request is that she be allowed to see some of the photos... she says she can't believe Steve dresses himself up so easily judging by how much he blushes at the most mundane compliments. She saw one of his outfits drying, hanged gently up in their bathroom once.) just so Bucky can blow the photos up and literally hang them over the hearth in their house. Proud at the artwork that is Steve. His submissive. His.

Also-

Think how fucking sexy those photos would be in general. Even if it weren't a wish granted for Bucky. Like, Bucky, opens the zip-file their very trustworthy and low-key photograoher sends them and...

(Chaotic formatting ahead, beware:)

At first, they're just photos of Steve in another glorious set of lavender lingerie, several different sets because Steve has so many he can just bring with him from home but he also bought more just for this, with a simple background- a white drop back with smoothly painted white boxes/crates to allow for more shapes and poses than if he was only standing or sitting on the floor unassisted.

(Obligatory example lingerie sets: 1 2 3 4 5)

But then the boxes and such are swapped out...

Posing with just the white background, lying in the void of white- the only color his blush and that pretty lingerie.

And maybe in the next burst of photos he's resting on a baby pink and incredibly fluffy rug. Lying back luxuriously, arching his back with his arms over his head to stick his tits out and show off that teeny tiny waist. His dick tucked back so there's nothing actually being revealed. Just a tease. Shot from the side then from overhead, the photographer straddling him to take the shot and making him blush gorgeously. Then he's on his side on the carpet, the difference between his shoulders and lil waist on full display. After, he's on his tummy with his back arched again and his head resting on his forearms looking to the side where the camera is. Sitting on a stool on the carpet too. Legs spread to either side and his hands resting on the seat of the stool, hiding what his little panties aren't. He poses leaning over the stool too, bent at the waist, with his forearms braced on the stool, looking to the side at the camera for a few shots. Also, there's more shots from behind with his ass shown off in full glory as he looks shyly over his shoulder to the lense.

They rotate through several sets of lingerie that way. Getting creative, getting Steve more comfortable for later...

Not that much later though, he's got other props around him. A white satin robe to tease that breathy purple lingerie against a black background instead of white. The contrast calling all attention to him. The photographer brought a sweet stuffed animal to hide the naughtiness of one of his littlest pairs, holding it in front of him, demure as he stares up through heavy lashes. They brought some flowers too maybe... just for some more creativity.

They change back to the white background eventually.

They also get Steve sitting on a bed (the mattress has a cover over it) with white satin/silk sheets. (You know the vibe...)

And with those two things in place (and another of Steve's outfit of course) then comes the fruit.

Bucky's favorites are the last ones with the fruit. It gets wild...

But his favorites of the last ones are any of the ones where Steve is tearing into the fruit with his mouth. That luscious mouth. Lips and teeth getting sticky and shiny and stained. Fruit juice dripping down his hands and chin as he sinks his teeth in...

Bucky isn't sure he's ever seen anything more erotic than Steve's eyes shut in pleasure at tasting the sweet flesh of the fruit after his fast and purposeful dehydration to look his Best for the photos. Enjoying himself in such a beautiful, teasing way.

Looking at the photos makes Bucky lick his own lips as if he might be able to taste some of the juice dripping from Steve's just by staring so hard at the final photos.

Steve just has a 🍑 at one point. He's just taking a bite of a peach and the photo has been taken mid-bite. Then chewing- there's a photo of that too, his jaw clenched and eyes locked with the camera. All of him bared for it. Exposed and put perfectly in the spotlight where he belongs. The camera loves him. He looks unbearably salacious and ripe.

But as more photos are taken, they swapped the fruit. There's more than just peaches.

There's 🍇 that Steve dangles over his own face, plucking them from the vine with his teeth. Elegant and yet dangerous.

There's an up close shot of his mouth full of raspberries, blueberries and blackberries, arranged to look like they're overflowing from his mouth. He's on his back for that shot, his blonde hair swept softly out. Eyes heavily lidded. Ment to allude to the fucked-out look he gets when Daddy paints his cumshot over his parted lips, half on his face, half down his throat. It's more sexual than it has any goddamn right to be. It's just fucking fruit.

Next, there's some of Steve holding 🍓🍓 tight in his fist and dripping the juice down over his open mouth, over his chin and chest, dripping down. And another group of shots of Steve wiping his face with the back of his other hand, peaking up at the camera through his thick lashes, sheepish and indescribably pretty.

Goddamn.

At one point there's also a shot of Steve's ass, his legs folded under him, ankles against the backs of his thighs, but his knees are still spread. He has one hand down to the ground, steadying him, on his fingertips between his legs but he peers back over his shoulder, there's a bite taken out of the 🍑 he's holding just in front of his face. Leaning towards it like he might kiss it- looking fuck drunk. There's also a perfect bite mark from Bucky on his ass... bruised from the last time they had sex. The imprint of his teeth on his ass mirrors the peach.

(Also... they have a joke shot of Steve with a 🍌 too, deep throating it, then using the banana to bulge his cheek. It feels like... low hanging fruit to use such an obvious, phallus fruit. Besides. Steve can hardly keep a straight face while doing it. The same with another joke shot of two 🥝🥝 between his legs like fuzzy balls. Those few frames are not super sexy but actually sweet. The stupid GRIN on his face makes him glow. Full of boyish charm, never growing too old for dick jokes.)

Later, in a new set of panties, no bra this time, Steve arches his back with a 🍍 resting up against his erection, between his legs. There's pineapple rings in a line up his abs, dripping with juice and rolling in a few rivers down his skin. Daddy wants to lick him clean.

Steve with 🍒 happens too. One of the cherries between his teeth and the other still held delicately between his fingers. Eyes heavily staring down the camera. Suggestive as all hell.

Shots of only Steve's hands exist too, ripping into softer fruit, a grapefruit or 🍊 suggestive in placement, as if he's fingering the fruit. Daddy doesn't bottom often, almost not at all, but seeing that... it makes him want to. He wants to direct Steve on just how to tear into him.

The last, last shot it the most unbelievable. It's a reused pose from earlier in the shoot but...

Oh god.

Just thinking about it gets Bucky hot. Even after he's stared at it for too long. Even after he's thought about it while jerking off- Steve gone for the weekend. Maybe it gets him so hot because its taboo. Maybe because it's different. Maybe because it's, it's complete fantasy but-

The last shot is of Steve, without ANY panties and no bra, just miles of pale, flushed skin, with his legs spread as wide as he can get them. Hiding his dick, so it's not just straight porn and retains some air of class, is a cantaloupe that's been sliced in half. The fruit is resting between his legs and his fingers are resting on/in the fruit like he's pleasuring himself... like he's pleasuring himself if he had a pussy. His unoccupied hand is then playing with his own tits- alluding even more to the feminization. It gives Daddy a really confusing but unavoidable surge of arousal. (Lightly inspired by this photo now that I think about it.) His little toy turned his pretty girl with a pretty cunt and touching it himself-? Touching it himself so unashamedly? Fuck. Consider Daddy done for.

[dylanlila]

🥝🥝🥝🥝🥝🥝🥝🥝🥝🥝

for every 🥝 i get, i’ll recommend a blog i love

OOOOOOO I LOVE!!!!! ten emojis -> ten blogs

everything's under the cut ⤵️

@a-dash-in-the-middle resident holden caulfield (just kidding, dash is todd anderson 🥰) you can't NOT like her blog because it is genuinely the most interesting, fantastical, versatile place on earth. it's like if the maze from the shining was starring in a fantasy or sci-fi film instead of a stephen king adaptation. the award for the most original tag essays goes toooooooo. dash always has something thought-provoking and brilliant to say. (even though she doesn't see it that way, but that's why she's todd) maddeningly creative. book recs are her weapons. if you check out her blog you'll probably encounter a bunch of dragons she adopted. (also her son is logan huntzberger 👀)

@brian-ur-bruh THE LEGEND!!!!! steve the hair harrington has nothing on jules. fiercely unique, KILLER MUSIC TASTE, wonderfully artistic and all in all an exceptional person. i call jules jules because of julian casablancas, need i say more? worships the only band ever aka the clash (here's the famous side blog: @capital-radio-three) fantastic guitar player!!!!! (did this amazing cover of "someday" with his band which he should brag about waaaaay more than he does)

@all-seeing-ifer JO MARCH OF TUMBLR!!!!!! the only person who i would trust with jo and laurie. talking with isabel is like sitting on the porch of your childhood house with your best friend, sharing a drink and feeling content with how everything turned out in the end. poetic watching the orange orange orange sunset kind of thing. just pure comfort and all things theatre. never fails to bring a smile on my face and continues to amaze me with their indescribable kindness and cleverness.

@paradigmx soooo easy to talk to. real cool (XTC FAN!!!!!!) and insightful. crazy smart. understands my detail-oriented craziness. will probably end up enriching your watchlist. you thought fox mulder was a fictional character? no, it's @paradigmx

@nightofthelivingpoet THE ROBERT TO MY ZOË!!!!!!! once accidentally bullied her into making a little women side blog. we are both rory gilmore-coded and will probably be crazy about academics all over your dash. say weird stuff like 🌌i love studying🌌. gracie's blog -> an enchanted forest. 99% sure that my rob pattz here is a time traveller. (it's ok i am too 🤭)

@quaffles-with-syrup MY PARTNER IN FANDOM CRIME!!!!! you might be familiar with stephen king's it, but only the two of us GET it yk? the ben hanscom to my stanley uris. immaculate energy. can change the world just by existing naturally. made out of bookish-ly real magic and correct opinions.

@wilsoncology UNDERSTANDS MY LOVE FOR MEDICINE, I AM SMILING SO BRIGHT RN!!!!! i just think of our likestorm-ing sessions and my day is already made. showers me with pictures of lisa cuddy which is the most you can do for tumblr user jochase really. wonderful artist, wonderful scientist, makes amazing edits, reblogs amazing content. don't think they realise how cool they are, but no worries i'll make the entirety of tumblr write poems about my fellow rsl enthusiast so it's fine <3

@crystalclrs is into everything i'm into, i make a profession out of stalking beth's blog (it's not my fault it's basically an art gallery????) could singlehandedly fly the tardis, i'm sure of it

@jonismitchell just thinking about arden's writing is making me tear up :") (check out her substack) every single word that she's written and i read is a part of this captivating, relatable, heartfelt mosaic of all things exceptional i keep in a special brain pocket of mine.

@freakwiththeknifecollection my daily dose of comfort is completely dependent on emily!!!! brighter than a sunflower, kinder than peeta mellark and as cool as jo harvelle. 🥰

[bernthal-brainrot]

──── 𝟎𝟑. 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: winter soldier x reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: DARK CONTENT, smut, cutting (TW), pussy slapping, language, violence against you. Rated R overall

𝐚/𝐧: TW!!! If you have anything with cutting or think this will trigger you, please don't read! Stay safe and have a good day/night/afternoon! (Sorry for any spelling/grammar errors or plot holes, I didn't put my whole wussy (writer pussy) into this one.)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 697

𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

🥝 ·̩͙✧ 18+ ONLY PLEASE, BY CLICKING 'KEEP READING' YOU ARE AGREEING TO THE TERMS OF THE WARNINGS. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION. 🥝 ·̩͙✧

"Внесите актив."

Bring in the asset.

These words were spoken by a man who had been torturing you for hours. Sprawled out on a metal table, arms and legs tied down with leather buckles, nothing but underwear, and a tank top to cover your trembling body. Needles, shocks, physical blows. All to get information out of you but to no avail.

You understood the man's words perfectly, and you also knew exactly who he was talking about. Most believed he was a myth. Others, like you, knew better.

Blood trickled out of your nose as you watched the man approach your head, "Maybe a new friend will help you remember what it is you want to tell me, птичка."

With all the strength you could muster, you welled up the blood in your mouth before spitting it directly into the Hydra commander's face.

The commander scoffed in disgust, before delivering a swift, punishing slap to your cheek.

"Сейчас!" he barked.

Now!

Soon enough, a door had slid open, a broad figure standing in the doorway. A figure with a metal arm.

The heavy thunking of his boots against the cement floor was deafening, your body beginning to shake as he drew closer.

He looked down at you as if you were the scum of the Earth. Maybe to him, you were. An avenger, a member of a team that held Hydra's number 1 enemy, Captain Steve Rogers. He was sworn to hate everything having to do with him. Including you.

You looked at him with the same disgust, fearing the way he would defile you. How he would mar your skin, cover it with more wounds, tease you, mock you. Just as the man before him did.

"Вы не покинете эту комнату, пока мы не получим ответы, которые нам нужны." the commander growled to the soldat, trying his hardest to wipe the blood from his uniform.

You will not leave this room until we have the answers we need.

The Soldat gave a solemn nod of his head and watched the commander take his leave, before turning back to you. His flesh hand moved down to a holster, unbuttoning it before holding up a terrifying knife. It was big and sharp. Just how the Soldat liked it.

You verbally whimpered at the size of it, your eyes widening at the feel, holding back a scream with a whine of fear.

"Where's S.H.E.I.L.D. keeping Project 14?" his voice was low and gruff, making you shudder.

Your eyes narrowed as you sneered, "Go to hell!" you would bark, the Soldat's face immune to change as he sighed.

Then, he raised his knife.

He dragged the knife from your collarbone and down your chest, droplets of blood springing up and glittering against the fluorescent lights of the room.

You gasped at the sting, both from the wound and the chill of the metal pressed up against your heated flesh.

"Where is S.H.E.I.L.D. keeping Project 14?" he asked again, emphasizing every word with a gentle drag of his blade further and further down your torso, reaching your hip bone.

You knew what he was trying to do, he was trying to intimidate you. And as much as you hated to admit it, it was working.

"I-I don't know," you stuttered, the sound of your shaking breaths echoing through the open space of the room.

"неправильно."

Wrong.

Before you had time to protest, his metal hand gripped the bottom of your shirt, the sound of fabric tearing making you let out a terrified gasp.

Your hands jolted against the leather cuffs that held you grounded to the bed.

"Please, please, I swear I don't know!" you cried.

"Don't. Lie." he hissed through gritted teeth, tossing the shredded tank top to the side.

"Please, I don't -- Ah!" your pleading was cut off by your body reacting to a slap to your clothed pussy, your legs squirming as you were being defiled.

Several slaps later, he finally seemed to have his fill, "You ready to tell the truth now?"

His knife was being twirled in his hand, his face stoic as he looked down at you.

Somehow you knew he was just beginning

[onsunnyside]

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐲'𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

to keep track of all my lovely anons. I'm always open for more (can be an emoji or words or both), please let me know if I didn't add you here !

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