Steve Harrington X Reader - Blog Posts

Hi, I'm MJ! She/her, '03 baby, Aquarius—

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hi, gorgeous. currently daydreaming about steve’s innocent, shy girl climbing on top of him while he’s in a chair and she’s ready to ride him but his huge hands settle on her hips to stop her and she’s looking at him all confused and ready to do her part but he just says “just sit here and look pretty for me,” before he begins to absolutely pound into her, one hand on her hips and the other holding her jaw to make her look at him. he’s just praising the hell out of his little angel baby for taking him so good because he’s just so big. the mental image of his furrowed brows and clenched jaw as he watches her completely melt on his lap from pleasure has me clutching my peARLS

– sittin’ pretty

U KNOW WHAT!! UR THE DEVIL! THE DEVIL!! anyways this request had me feral the moment i started writing it… it gets a little soft at the end tho fem!reader, light choking, hella praise kink, what the request says basically <3 and around 1.7k MDNI this entire blog is 18+

It’s hard to press down your shyness as you tug the tight elastic of your underwear down your calves. They pool at your ankles. You step out of them and resist the urge to cave in and cover yourself. 

“C’mon, c’mere sweet girl,” Steve says softly, his hands smoothing over the top of his tan hairy thighs. He pats them to urge you over. 

Everything feels a bit stilted as you tiptoe over to the big comfy armchair he’s seated on, with his thighs parted. You can feel a surge of slick between your thighs at the sight of his aching cock, the head all pink and drippy just for you. It lies back against his happy trail, the vein on the side prominent. 

Steve offers you his hand, palm up. You take it and let your knees gently find either side of his hips, hovering hesitantly above him. Heat swirls between you, mixing with the fog of lust that emanates heavily from Steve. His adoring face gazes up at you, but his are eyes dark in a way that makes your tummy twist up. 

“Hi, pretty.” He murmurs, guiding your face down for a kiss. You sigh into it sweetly, hands gripping his shoulders. 

“Hi.” You whisper back, against his lips. His kiss and reverent gaze give you courage, leaning back to plant one hand on his knee. Your other hand reaches between your two bodies and curls around his throbbing cock. It’s warm and hard, twitching at the sudden stimulation. Steve hisses lowly, his tummy flexing as pleasure jolts through him. 

Even though you’re shy, that doesn’t mean you’re not impatient. Today, there will be no working him up til he’s begging to be inside you, no matter how much you desperately want to. Instead, you waste no time, tilting your hips forward to let the head of his cock catch against your entrance in a way that makes you moan. Your thighs ache a little with the slow pace you lower yourself — but Steve’s cock is always a stretch. 

It stings, just the slightest, but enough to make you revel in it. You sink down, hand shifting forward to hold his hip to prop yourself up, and your eyes flutter shut in pure ecstasy as his hard cock stretches you open— unaware of how Steve fights to keep his eyes open, drinking in every minuscule expression on your face. 

“That’s it, honey,” He coos, sweeping his hand up your hip to tug you down an inch more. You mewl, body shuddering as you clench around him. It feels fucking mind-melting how good he feels filling you up. “That’sssss it.” 

You’re whimpering by the time he’s fully hilted in you, your thighs pressed down against his own. Steve’s panting a bit, hairy chest rising and falling as he struggles to keep himself in control. You’re so wet, so warm, and god, you’re still so shy even when you’re sitting on his cock — averting your eyes even as your tight little hole clenches around him. When did he get so lucky?

Try as you might, there’s not stopping the pitiful gasp that comes out when you lift yourself back up, his cock gliding almost all the way out of your cunt. You can feel the mess you’re already making on him, can already feel the subtle ache in your thighs but none of it deviates you from your plan. You’re going to ride your boyfriend like there’s no fucking tomorrow. 

But right as you prep yourself to sink back down, Steve’s hands stop you, shooting out to grab you by the hips. You pause. Shyness creeps back in. 

“Wha…? Is something wrong?” You ask. 

Steve’s quick to comfort, one of his hands reaching up to cup your cheek. “Hey, hey, everything’s fine. I just—“ He shift his hips up a bit and you shiver, eyes fluttering closed without thinking. When you open them again, he’s grinning. 

“I just want you to sit here and look pretty for me, hm?” He leans up to kiss your cheek and it makes you entirely too distracted for what happens. 

His tummy clenches, muscles tightening, as his hips suddenly snap up, thrusting his cock back deep into you. You squeal. 

“Steve!” Your hands propel forward, grasping his shoulders, but he doesn’t pause. His hands on your hips tighten as he holds you in place, drilling up into your wet cunt, hard and fast. Pleasure dribbles through your core, hot and melty. His thighs slap against your own, causing them to buckle and you sink down a little lower — only forcing his cock deeper inside you. 

You whine, all of a sudden overwhelmed, and tuck your face away— all too aware of how every time he fucks up into you, you make a needy little uh. 

And, well, that just won’t do. With one hand keeping your hips secure, his other wanders up, creeping in around your neck. Even as he fucks you roughly, his touch is still gentle. His big hands can stretch across the expanse of your jaw— and he uses it to coax your head up. You’re already looking teary eyed, warm enough in the face that he can feel it with his hand, all from how much you’re enjoying it. Steve loves it. 

“Baby,” He manages to rasp out sweetly. You gasp, hiccupy and high pitched, embarrassed by the wet squelchy noises he’s fucking out of your cunt. “Look at you, my baby. Doing so good for me, huh? Taking it so well, angel.” 

You lean into the hand around your throat further, letting him curl his fingers around it a bit tighter. One of your hands flies up to grasp his wrist, needing, craving the connection. 

“Steve,” you cry, delirious from the pleasure. His cock fills you over and over, unravelling you from the inside. “Steve,” You repeat his name uselessly, mouth hanging open as a whiney moan takes over. 

“I know, I know.” He coos, sweet as he can be while ruining you on his cock. He’s got a furrow in his brow, his jaw set, perfect brown eyes searching your face— always looking for which button to press next, which way to make it better for you. God, you love him. 

“So fucking good, isn’t it angel?” He grunts. “Perfect fuckin’ cunt, just made to take my cock, isn’t she?” 

“Yes!” you keen, the words tearing from your mouth. “Yes, yes, yes, fuck,” Pathetic whimpery noises flow out freely, your grip around his wrist tightening as you feel heat gather low in your tummy. 

“G-God, fuck,” Steve groans, the first hint of desperation leaking into his words. His hand around your throat tightens in the slightest, a soft pressure that has your head spinning. “Can fucking feel you getting close.” 

His words make you moan, your thighs slipping further down — your hand shoots out to brace against the arm of the chair, desperate to keep him going, to reach your peak. 

“Your—“ A whimper slips into his voice. “Fuck. Your pussy gets all tight when she wants to cum— y’wanna cum?” 

You’re nodding along before he’s even finished his sentence. With how hard he’s fucking you, hips thrusting up against yours, it’s a wonder he can even see it. You whimper out a “Yes.” just in case. 

“I know you do.” He groans loudly. “Deserve to, too. You’ve been so good, so fucking good, yeah?” 

His hand holding your hip slips forward, snaking towards your clit and pleasure twists the coil in your tummy up tighter and tighter. His rough thumb pushes against it, sloppy but effective. You wail. 

“Y’deserve to cream all over my cock like a good girl, don’t you?” He rasps, throat a bit wrecked from every sweet sultry noise thats passes his lips. 

You’re not even sure if it’s words coming out your mouth anymore, just a whiney mess of yes’s tangled up in your moans. Steve whines, the rhythm of his strokes beginning to falter as his own orgasm begins to rear up. You whine and your hips move on their own accord— bouncing down on his cock to meet his thrusts midway. 

“Yes, yes, fuck, you’re so good, y’look fucking perfect bouncing on my cock,” Steve rambles, that perfect pussy-drunk expression beginning to take over him. His moans turn to whines and with one desperate whimper of your name, you topple like a house of cards. 

Pleasure unravels you. Your hips stutter and drop down, trying to cram every inch of Steve into you as you can, while your other hand claws weakly at his tummy. Heat scorches every nerve inside you, delicious and overwhelming all at once. 

The scratch of your nails, the clench of your wet cunt, the pitiful crying noise you make, all of it sets Steve off — his back arching and hips bucking up, trying to get more of your hot, wet pussy. His face screws up, a high whine tearing out his throat as his hands grapple to circle around your back, trying to get you closer.

It’s a sweat press of skin, chest to chest. You twitch and moan, face tucked away safely in his neck, as Steve lets all his noises out into the curve of your own. It’s deeply intimate — enough to make your shyness peek back up when Steve digs his face out after a minute of laboured breathing. His face is pink, his expression blissful. 

“You,” He huffs tiredly, eyes scanning your face worriedly. “You okay? Wasn’t too rough?” 

You melt a bit, a breathy laugh escaping you. “Yeah, I’m okay.” You chuckle. Nerves rear their ugly head within you before you can flatten them. “Was I— that was good?” You check. 

Steve laughs softly, nuzzling in closer to you. He smells fantastic. You can’t help how you mirror him, nosing along his cheek, letting your eyes slip shut. 

“Baby, I think you melted my brain.” He says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

Steve Harrington x fem!reader requested by anon 18+

You probably shouldn’t have done it. 

Probably. 

But you did anyway. 

The party was loud enough and busy enough that no one really noticed, no one really cared about the way your elbows dug into their sides, parting the drunken crowd as you made your way back from the bathroom.

The lights were low, the room filled with smoke from cigarettes and joints, swirling around the mirrored disco ball that someone had strung from the ceiling fan with a shoelace. Steve was still on the couch, half holding a conversation with Eddie and Robin, half scanning the room, waiting for you.

You dropped into his lap, grinning when he hummed, your skirt riding up your thighs as you settled into Steve’s chest. He was still talking to Eddie about a new band on the scene when you plucked his beer from his hand, taking a long drag. And when no one was looking, when everyone was too busy talking, laughing, singing, smoking, you pressed a piece of lacy, soft fabric into Steve’s fist, replacing his drink with something else. 

You watched his brow furrow when he glanced down, his other hand wrapped around your waist and he hauled you closer, unfurling his fingers slightly before he realised what he was holding. You felt his chest move as he sucked in a gasp, a sharp inhale of surprise and his fingers clenched around the lace, his eyes wide and finding your own. 

“Babe, what the fuck?” He whispered it, a hiss between bass and drums, his cheeks wonderfully pink, pretty and kissable. He was gazing up at you, awe in his eyes, his hand pulled close to his chest to hide his present but you could see the way his thumb buried itself into the cotton, pressing into the damp fabric, feeling you. “Is this your underwear?”

It was a rhetorical question, you were sure. Because Steve’s pupils were blown wide and he hadn’t had any of Eddie’s weed yet. His other hand was skimming up your bare thigh, fingertips ghosting under the hem of your skirt and he knew he’d find you bare, he had the evidence of that in his other palm and he was so fucking hard it hurt—

“Harrington, you good?” Eddie was frowning at the both of you, eyes narrowed at Steve’s flushed face, his glassy eyes. 

Steve couldn’t talk. 

“He’s fine,” you answered for him, using the excuse of yelling over the music to shift on Steve’s lap, biting back a grin at the feel of him hard underneath you. “You’re just a little warm, right, handsome?”

Steve was nodding, head bobbing and he canted his hips ever so, holding you tight against him as he shifted, shoving your underwear into his pocket and then he was patting at your ass. “Yeah, yeah, too hot in here,” he tried to smile at his friends, standing when you did, catching your hand and pulling, “in fact, I think I need some air.”

Steve didn’t even try to pretend, he dragged you out the party ignoring the hoots and whistles of his friends that followed you both out the door. He ushered you to the car, drove it a few minutes down the street until the party was a distant buzz and the streetlights didn’t reach the line of trees you were hidden beside. 

“In the back,” Steve told you and he sounded desperate, he sounded wrecked. “Be a good girl ‘n pull that skirt up for me, honey, I wanna see how pretty you look.”

❛❛ ICE ❜❜

matching ・Coach!Steve Harrington x Ice Skater!Reader

genre・Fluff, maybe enemies to lover trope(?) 😏

warning ・None :/

words・1140

ೃ⁀➷

Walking into the skating rink with your backpack in hand, holding your skates in hand, today was the day your new coach came in to help you improve your skating skills.

You sat on the bench, put on your skates, tied them up in the process, 'Might as well practice than waiting.'

The scarping of the ice once your skates hit the ice echoed in the skating rink; you were the only person there practicing your skills on the ice; it was owned by one of your childhood friends that granted permission for you to practice.

Skating Ice was fun; it was satisfying to hear your skates cut the layer of ice in the rink, wearing your ordinary sweater and legging as you skated around.

Practicing toe loops to the lutz, your jumps were perfect, landing onto the smooth ice with the crisp sound of ice being cut from your skates, but even with your everything, your rhythm was somehow always lacking some emotion, they say.

The thought of the idea of your dances lacking emotion anger you. "Does it even matter," you puff out. The lights shined on the ice giving it a white glow; the glow was enhancing you.

Wondering to yourself how the smooth ice was to skate on, how something frozen would be beautiful, not like normal icy water was appearing like an unawakened bear in its hibernation.

The scraping sound of ice filled your ears with glee.

As you held yourself in your arms, skating away on the rink, not hearing or being aware of who came into the skating rink, you were too busy with your thought to comprehend.

The door cracked open, with a cold hiss sound echoing the skating arena like opening a freezer.

Footsteps echoed and took your mind out of thought as you looked towards the arena entrances; he was holding in a duffel bag and had their skates in hand.

His luxurious, delicate locks bounced every time he took a step; you gazed in awe, wondering who this man was, especially when you thought this place was closed and wasn't always anyone in.

Your eyes couldn't take your eyes off him. It was something enticing about him; maybe it was about how he came in, how he walked, or perhaps it's his gorgeous hair alluring you.

Until his eyes spotted you and stared at you, you looked away in embarrassment and skated away from the area inaccessible to the benches.

Your face was hot, practically sweating from the encounter even though the whole rink was freezing; ghastly to say, he was reasonably attractive.

After that, you came up with somewhat of a decision. So you skated to the benches where you threw all your stuff on and did a couple of stretches so your body wouldn't cramp up while you were in the lesson.

Waiting for your new coach to come, since your old coach quit out of you because you were 'too hotheaded,' it is not your fault that they rated your triple axel loops wrong.

You did break some of the signs, but you couldn't hold it in; you rubbed your neck and rotated it to loosen your tense muscles and sighed; this coach is taking a long time to come here. Finally, when you close your eyes, he appears in front of you, not even admiring your personal space, "Your L/N, right?" his modulated voice ranged into your ears.

No way this hunk was your coach; your eyes widen in astonishment "…Y-yeah, are you my new coach?" you should have rethought that answer because it was a stupid question to ask.

"Mhm, I'm Steve, well my full name is Steve Harrington, but you can call me Steve for short," he utters, putting his hand out, signaling for a handshake; you are in a trance by his beauty not even admiring his hand, you just shook your head.

"Not much of a contact person, are you?" he pulled his hand away from you. Not much came out of your word; you just stared at him and crossed your arms.

"Well, shall we start on the ice?" he insisted, "Okay." you sat up from the benches and entered the ice sink with your coach, "Show me one of your routines, so you will know what is lacking. In?"

Did he say lacking, not even one second, and you already have a problem with him? You're never lacking; you are simply perfect and flawless in everything you do, especially ice skating.

You skated away from him and got in position, your arms twirled around your body, as your feet followed the rhythm of your arms, it was a bit awkward since there was no music, as your one of legs dismounted from the ice as you turned your body as you took flight, completing a 360 spin and landing on the ice.

As you push yourself back and accelerate your speed on your skates as you turn around, kicking your right leg back, using the weight of your body, turning yourself, landing on the ice with your right leg being held with your right hand, having your left arm out, to balance yourself on ice, completing upright spin.

You felt confident until you looked at him; his face emitted an unimpressed look; oh boy, that took a toll on you.

You lower your leg, propelling yourself around the ice as you spread your arms away from each other as you turn back and propel yourself up, doing a 360 spin and landing on your right leg as you tuck your arms.

Taking the speed, jumping up and spinning into the air, completing a toe loop and having your left leg in the air, bending yourself 70 degrees and turning in the air while your right leg takes the weight of your body, completing a camel spin.

You lower your leg to the ice, decrease your speed on the ice as you finish up your routine, pose on the ice, have a smug grin on your face, sweat dripping off your face, and your heavy breathing echoes in the arena as the sounds of clapping were followed up.

"That's good." he puts his hand back in his pockets, walking towards you; you turn yourself as you were looking face-to-face with him, "But your turns and jumps were lacking," he utters.

A big hit to the ego.

If that comment didn't make you angry, his critiques would. Releasing your anger was something he wanted you to do honestly; you didn't want him to be right about you at all.

He was breathing in and out, changing your state of mind to be calm. Then, dismissing him with a thank you, that smug smile formed on his annoying face angered you more.

"So..should we get started?"

Happy Father's Day to these Dorks™

I think the writers should just have Steve stay single so we can continue to simp for a single, babysitting man.

Can't wait to read the next chapters 😍😍

Poor Steve freaked out there for a moment.

Eddieee 🤏🤏

If you do a tag list, can I please be added to it? Thanks! Continue with the great work 😍

Chapter 1: The Beighton Score

Summary: Steve’s new patient is full of surprises.

Word count: 5.1k

A/N: Howdy. Please enjoy part one based on the unfortunate way people with chronic illnesses are treated by the American healthcare system. This is my first Steve fic, so please let me know if I am doing it right! Also: I’m not a Billy Anti. So let’s keep things respectful to all favorites.

1997

The Health Institute of Indiana had been Steve’s home away from home for the last few years. After surviving the upside down, the party had to move on. Steve never had much direction as far as a career was concerned, but he knew he didn’t want to be rewinding video tapes for the rest of his life.

Academically inclined was not a phrase generally used to describe Steve. Math, English, history—none of these subjects ever received higher than a well fought for ‘C’ on his report card. This left him very little hope in the way of a college education, but with some help, he figured out what he wanted to do.

What Steve lacked in book smarts, he made up for in athleticism. So he decided he’d do the one thing he knew how: sports.

More specifically, sports medicine. He thought it would be easy as pie, but like usual, he was wrong. Without Lucas and Dustin’s help with pharmacology and biomechanics, Steve would have never made it through his prerequisite courses. But, by the skin of his teeth, he did. He gave the boys fifty bucks each as a reward with his very first paycheck as a bonafide Physical Therapist Assistant. Dustin said he required more compensation than that, so Steve promised him a shitty Gremlin from his dad’s lot when he turned 21. Steve still had a year before he had to make good on that particular promise.

His dad didn’t like the idea of Steve being an assistant to anyone or anything, and constantly pushed Steve to become a full fledged physical therapist, but Steve was just happy to have gotten this far. He wasn’t going to pursue anything further unless he felt he needed to. He was happy where he was for now.

Well, he wished Robin was here. About as graceful as a newborn foal, she didn’t follow him in his employment—not completely. She was here at the Health Institute as a music therapist. Robin replaced him with Eddie fucking Munson as her new partner in crime while on the clock. The two went floor to floor through the pediatric ward playing music to cheer up the kids. If Steve knew anything about music, he would have followed along with them. Instead, he was put in a makeshift gym that reeks of feet and menthol without his friend to make the time fly by. He missed her, and sometimes Eddie, too.

But it wasn’t all bad. He enjoyed his work quite a bit. The kids who came in were often in really rough shape. Some had to learn how to live without their freshly amputated limb, build dexterity and balance with the new hardware sticking out of their skin that helped straighten the bones in their bowed legs, or trying to help keep what strength they had as Muscular Dystrophy stole their mobility little by little. Steve liked to make them feel better, both physically and emotionally. Usually when they first come in, the kids look like wilted flowers—slumped over, tired, without hope. But after a few sessions of encouragement and sometimes a little tough love, they perked right up and their personalities start to show. In his gym, they’re not sickly and helpless. They’re people who are capable of doing whatever they set their mind to once they learn the tricks that help them do so.

Today would be a light one. He had six patients with only one of them being new. New patients were either scheduled at the first or last appointment of the day to ensure they had enough time to go over the exercises, explain why each one was necessary and what they did for their body, and mostly to answer all the questions parents had, and that was usually enough to have to add an 25th hour to the day to address them all.

Marcy Hargrove, a 12 year old female with unspecified joint instability and inflammation, was due any moment. He received the chart with her detailed evaluation and care plan. It didn’t seem like the kid really needed to be here based on the PT’s evaluation. She had all her limbs, balance was only slightly below normal, no recent surgeries or injury, and did not have any degenerative disease. She seemed like a normal twelve year old.

Steve wiped down the exam table with a bleached rag before gathering the weights and resistance bands he would need when you and Marcy walked into the gym.

“Steve?” you asked with visible shock.

Steve smiled politely, not really sure of the reason behind your bulging eyes and slack jaw. You seemed much too young to be the mother, but he didn’t want to make any assumptions. Last time he misspoke like that he got a smack across the cheek.

“That would be me. Are you sister or Mrs. Hargrove?”

You snorted and sat in the chair by the exam table. “No. Never. It’s Ms. Y/L/N. And this is my daughter Marcy.” You put your hand on the girl’s shoulder and nudged her forward.

Marcy seemed quite normal—short stature with long hair that hid part of her face, which started to break out in angry red zits. Like all his first timers, Marcy seemed very timid. Folded in on herself and fidgeting with the sleeves of her shirt, she kept her eyes trained on the floor.

Steve crouched on his knees to try and be within her line of sight. “Hey, Marcy. I’m Steve.” He held out his hand for her to shake, but she didn’t take it. Instead, she looked at his face—not quite meeting his eyes—and gave a small nod.

“Right!” Steve exclaimed, extending back to his full height. “Why don’t you get up here on the table and show me what brings you in.”

Marcy hesitantly did as Steve instructed as you began to rattle off her ailments.

“She’s got problems with her knees, elbows, wrists, ankl—“

“Hold on, hoooooold on,” Steve held his hands up in a time -out T and shook his head. “I would like Marcy to tell me what’s going on. That way I can get a sense on where to start.”

Taken back by his request, you scoffed and made a show of zipping your lips and throwing away the key before crossing your arms over your chest. Marcy, on the other hand, looked as if she was physically trying to bite back a grin.

Steve honestly expected more of a fight from you. Kids were the easy part of the job. Training the parents was the real challenge. Most of the parents he encountered would take up all the air in the room and never let their child speakat all. Steve could understand that the overbearing came from good intentions—the kids were deficient in one way or another and needed an advocate. But here, Steve wanted to teach the kids that even though they were different, they could still be more than sickly and had the ability to speak for themselves. Almost all the parents had a hard time being shushed, often calling him rude and arrogant, but by the third session, the kids were the ones talking so much that the parents were the ones who couldn’t get a word in. It made Steve glow with pride.

He pulled up his rolling stool and took a seat next to the bedside and instructed Marcy to scoot until she could sit flat against the backrest of the table. She did as she was told, and for the first time she was able to meet Steve’s eyes.

“Alright, tell me what’s going on,” Steve prodded.

Marcy chewed the inside of her cheek for a few beats before answering. Stretching her arms to touch her knee caps, she said, “My knees hurt on this side and they pop in and out of place all the time.”

Steve hummed to himself and pinched either side of Marcy’s kneecap before giving it a tentative wiggle.

Marcy immediately flinched away from him with a strangled squeal. “Don’t do that!” she demanded through gritted teeth. The cold glare she was giving him seemed familiar, but he couldn't quite place it.

“Sorry, Marcy, but I’ve got to see if your kneecap is where it’s supposed to be. So I’m gonna move it around a little. Try to stay still but if it hurts too much, tell me and I’ll stop, okay? Relax for me.” Steve once again pushed the kneecap to the right, waiting to feel the resistance of the ligament that kept the bone in place. However, the resistance never came, and the small disc of Marcy’s kneecap popped out of place, completely dislocating from its socket.

Steve couldn’t hold back the “Holy shit!” that came bursting from his lips as the patella stayed in an unnatural position. He tried to push it back into place, but Marcy whacked his hands away in a flurry of slaps. He watched in awestruck horror as she pushed the kneecap back into its place with little more than a wince.

Steve met the piercing and unhappy gaze of Marcy Hargrove, her chapped lips twisted into an angry frown. “You’re saying this happens a lot?” he questioned.

“All the time,” she snapped, gently massaging the side of her leg. “My left shoulder and knee more than my right. My right ankle and elbow more than my left, and my jaw.”

“All the time?” Steve repeated in awe.

“All. The. Time,” Marcy huffed. “I don’t have to do anything and things will just pop out. My jaw gets stuck when I try to take too big of a bite. If I run, my ankles give out and I fall, and then my knee buckles. If I fall too hard and try to catch myself, my shoulder will go out, too.” She exhaled sharply and looked over at you for reassurance. You gave her a sad smile and nodded.

Steve flipped through the chart again to see if he missed something. As he skimmed over the notes from Ori, the physical therapist who examined her, he saw no mention of dislocations or subluxations of any of her joints. Confused, Steve tossed the chart towards the other bed and turned back to Marcy.

“Have you ever been in a car accident or injured your knee somehow?” he asked.

Marcy shook her head no. “Never. No accident. I didn’t fall off of a trampoline or anything. It just happens and it really hurts.”

Steve stared into Marcy’s alarmingly blue eyes as if they held the answer. The only thing he could think of was hypermobility, but that just meant she was a little more flexible than the norm and did nothing to explain how easily she could dislocate in multiple places. .

“Okay, I’m going to check something,” Steve announced. “Can you touch your thumb to your forearm?”

Marcy looked at him as if he asked if she could spell her own name. With ease, she pressed her thumb to her forearm, her wrist completely hyperextended.

“On both hands?”

Without blinking, Marcy did the same with her right hand.

“How far can you bend your pinky?”

She laid her hand flat on the table and pulled her pinky back, stretching it far beyond a 90 degree angle. She did the same to her other pinky without Steve asking.

He asked her to stand to her feet, and she did gingerly to avoid further agitating the leg he just injured. When she stood, her knees snapped back, locking and curved like a banana in the wrong direction. He had her hold her arms stretched out at her sides, and noticed that again, her elbows sunk in much farther than they were supposed to, almost creating a fulcrum in the center of her arms. The last test he could think of was to see if Marcy could touch the floor with her palms completely flat. It didn’t come as a shock when she did it without struggle.

What did shock him was when she returned to her full height, Marcy suddenly swayed uneasily and dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. Steve caught her by the shirt in order to stop her from cracking her skull on the tile.

“Marcy?!” he shouted, watching her clench her eyes shut. She wasn’t unconscious, but she wasn’t responsive either. “Kid, are you with me?”

Marcy didn’t acknowledge him at all.

“Is she a diabetic?” he panicked. “I have orange juice in that cabinet there!” He had never seen anything like this before, and it was scaring him. In ten minutes he managed to dislocate her knee and make her pass out. He looked to you for help, but you were already by Marcy’s side.

“She’s not a diabetic and orange juice won’t help. Help me put her on the table,” you instructed.

Steve was thrown off by your calm demeanor. He’s had kids puke before and the parents nearly gave themselves heart attacks over it. How were you not freaking out?

He picked Marcy up and laid her on her belly just as you instructed. She folded her arms under her chest and rested her forehead against the blue vinyl of the table. Marcy’s breathing started to slow and stabilize the longer she laid there.

Professionalism be damned, Steve was scared. “What the hell is going on?” he shrieked.

You crossed your arms over your chest and glowered at him. “If you had let me speak earlier, I could have told you that when she changes positions too fast, she passes out. Sometimes she knocks out cold and sometimes, like now, it’s just dizziness that will turn into syncope if she doesn’t lay down.”

Steve looked at you with utter confusion, not totally understanding what you were saying. “What?”

You rolled your eyes and snorted. “You never were a bright one, were you, King Steve?”

Bewildered, Steve gawked. How in the hell did you know about his high school nickname. He stared at your face intently, trying to place you within the halls of Hawkins High School, but nothing clicked. “Do I know you?”

Again, you scoffed at him. “Y/F/N Y/L/N. I went to Hawkins until junior year. We were in O’Donell’s together? Sixth period? I was dating Billy? Billy Hargrove?”

Without thinking, Steve laughed. “All the girls thought they were dating Billy Har—“ Steve’s eyes widened as he looked over Marcy’s still figure. “—grove. Hargrove.” Steve turned to you and blinked, once again trying to find some familiarity in your face. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t conjure up an image of you at all. Not in class, the cafeteria, underneath Billy’s stupid denim clad arm, not even at a par—

“Tina’s Halloween party!” Steve yelled, clapping his hands together as the realization hit him. “You were Jeannie from I Dream of Jeannie!”

He remembered that costume in embarrassing detail. Nancy had just ripped him a new one in the bathroom and Steve came storming down the stairs, nearly knocking you over. He caught you by the wrist and was taken back by the exposed expense of your belly in the pink sheer costume. He thought about getting Nancy back. Maybe let her see him make out with Jeanine and show her that she’s the one that’s bullshit, but he didn’t. He tried not to be that guy anymore, and let you go with a half-assed apology.

You were clearly unimpressed at how long it took him to figure out who you were. “That’s all you remember about me?”

“Uh, yeah? I don’t think I saw you ever again,” he answered with a shrug.

“Yeah, well,” you sighed. “My mom moved us here when I got pregnant.”

Suddenly remembering there was a kid in the room, Steve’s eyes snapped back to Marcy. He didn’t exactly know Hargrove on a friendly level, and what Steve did know about him, he didn’t like at all. Max was terrified of him, he beat the shit out of Steve, went after Lucas, disrespected everyone and everything he came across. But even through all of that, Steve couldn’t hate the guy. He sacrificed himself to the Mindflayer and basically saved the entire town, Steve included.

Wordlessly, Steve mouthed, “Did he know you were pregnant?”

Shifting Your weight from one leg to the other, your mouth turned down into a frown. “Yes,” you mouthed back.

“Was he around?” Steve pressed.

You shook your head no, even though the words you said loud enough for Marcy to hear contradicted your movement. “Billy was with us until he came back home for the Fourth of July. I’m sure you heard what happened. So many people died in the fire.”

It took a second for Steve to catch on. He knew damn well Billy was still whoring around until the day he died. He finally understood what you were saying by the look of frustration you were giving him, nodding your head towards Marcy with wide eyes.

“Oh,” Steve gasped. Billy wasn’t there, but Marcy didn’t know that—thinking Billy was only gone because of his untimely death and not because he was, indeed, an asshole. “Yeah, I remember that. Horrible stuff..”

Marcy started to stir, flipping herself over and slowly sitting up. Steve cleared his throat and asked if she was okay.

“Fine,” she answered miserably. “Happens.”

“What do the doctors say about all this?” he questioned.

“They think I’m full of shit!” Marcy spat venomously.

“Marcy—!”

The angry preteen paid no attention to you. “They say they don’t know what it is! They think I’m lying! They say I don’t have enough muscle to support being double jointed because I’m lazy! That I pass out because I just want attention!” She hastily wiped away the tears of frustration from their path down her cheek. “They’re wrong! It’s real and it hurts and I hate it!”

Within a blink, you were sitting on the exam table and holding Marcy into your chest as she cried. You kissed the top of her head and whispered soothing words to her in an attempt to calm her down.

Steve was at a complete loss, unable to really process what was happening right in front of him. For the third time that day, he reviewed Marcy L. Hargrove’s chart for a clue as to what the hell he was supposed to do to help her. There was nothing more detailed than the very vague “unspecified joint instability” which made Steve scoff. Ori’s plan of care was to increase muscle mass through weights, resistance bands, and strengthening exercises. While Steve wasn’t as educated as Ori, he didn’t think fifty repetitions of leg presses were going to cure her with how lax her ligaments were.

Sighing deeply, he went to the cabinets and dug around until he found what he was looking for. He wasn’t sure this was going to work either, but it was worth a shot if it could stop Marcy from crying and feeling unheard.

“Have you tried either of these before?” Steve asked, holding up a roll of multicolored tape and a hinged knee brace.

Marcy pulled her tear stained face from your chest. “I’ve only used ace wraps, but they hurt after a while.”

“Alright, so here’s what we’re gonna do,” Steve began, resuming his spot on his rolling chair. “We were supposed to start with some exercises today, but we’ll settle for the fun stuff first.” He pulled off some sticky adhesive pads from under the table and placed them on both sides of each knee, making Marcy flinch at his touch. “It’s alright,” he reassured her. “I think you’ll like this.”

He untangled the wires from the behemoth of a machine tucked against the wall and plugged the pegs into the channels of the sticky pads. “This is an electrical stimulator. The electric pulses are gonna interrupt the pain signals to your brain. It’s gonna tingle, but it shouldn’t hurt. I usually do this after we finish our sessions, but you’re getting spoiled today, Hargrove.”

God, it felt so fucking weird to say that name again. Billy had been gone for almost ten years now, and Steve only spared him a second thought whenever Max brought it up once in a blue moon. He wondered if she knew about her niece.

As he looked at Marcy, he could see Billy plain as day. The blue eyes, the sharpness in her scowl, the shape of her chin. Never in a million years did Steve except to be treating the spawn of Billy Hargrove. He felt a little guilty for being the one to care for her when Billy couldn’t. Or wouldn’t even if he could by what you were hinting to earlier.

“I’m gonna turn it on now. I can keep raising the intensity until you tell me to stop. Remember, it’s supposed to tingle, not hurt, okay?” Steve turned on the machine and pressed the up button when Marcy nodded in agreement. He kept pressing the up button, waiting for her to tell him to stop. She seemed unphased and kept jerking her thumb up as a signal for him to keep going.

“We’re at 54. You’re sure you're okay?” Steve asked tentatively. He himself couldn’t take more than 62 hertz without crossing over into the threshold of pain.

“Keep going,” Marcy answered encouragingly.

He followed her lead until she told him to stop at 70 hertz. She let out a long sigh of content and smiled at you. “Feels good, mommy.”

You grinned. Genuinely, truly grinned at her. “It must if you’re calling me mommy instead of mom.”

Marcy sneered playfully at you before nestling further down into the exam table. “How long do I get to have this on?”

“Fifteen minutes,” Steve answered, mindlessly spinning around in circles on his rolling stool. “If you want me to turn it up or down just let me know. Then we’ll lather you up with MintFreeze, tape up your joints, and send you on your way.”

If Steve didn’t know any better, he would say Marcy was almost smiling at him as the corners of her mouth twitched upward. “You knew my dad?”

Caught off guard by the question, Steve ceased his spinning with a loud stomp.

He wanted to tell her the truth about Billy, but the ghost of a smile on her face killed that train of thought. He quickly spared you a glance, silently asking what he should say to that, and received a wordless “Be Nice.” in return.

Steve didn’t see a reason to be nice, given that there was only one good thing he could say about the guy, but he legally couldn’t do that either.

“We were at school together,” Steve answered honestly. “He was in my gym class and used to beat me in basketball all the time.”

Marcy’s face lit up like a sunbeam. “What else? Were you friends?”

From the look of adoration on the girl’s face, Steve suddenly understood why you were lying to her about Billy’s true nature. The hope and unadulterated love sparkling in her eyes was almost too painful to look at. Billy Hargrove alive was an asshat. But Billy Hargrove’s ghost could be whatever you said he was, and to Marcy, he was a guy who loved her and was only away from her because he wasn’t among the living anymore.

“He had this really, really loud Camaro that he liked to show off. Drove it like a madman. You could hear him coming from two miles away. Two!”

They spent the rest of the time talking about the very limited knowledge Steve had about Billy. He didn’t have much to share, but that didn’t seem to matter to Marcy at all. She absorbed everything he said like her life depended on it. Steve didn’t think Billy being a lifeguard at the pool was particularly interesting, but it sent Marcy down a rabbit hole. “If Dad was a lifeguard, that meant he could swim, maybe even be a really good swimmer. Did he teach lessons? He probably taught little kids how to swim, too! And trained other lifeguards in CPR and stuff!”

Steve’s chest ached as he watched you smile at your daughter. While it was wide, it didn’t quite reach your eyes. There was a sadness there that even he, as emotionally stunted he was, could see.

Steve unhooked Marcy from the machine and asked her to tell him where she hurt. He applied a generous amount of the menthol based lotion to her knees, ankles, and elbows, making sure to be gentle around the spots that made her flinch whenever he ran his hand over it. She let out another happy sigh as the tingling of the cream soaked into her skin.

“Now this is kinetic tape. I’m gonna put it on your knees and elbows,” Steve announced. He cut off long strips of the multicolored tape and peeled the paper to reveal the adhesive. “This is going to act as extra support and help keep things where they’re supposed to be. It’s also been proven that the tape helps reduce swelling, so that could help with your pain, too.”

You watched him stretch the tape over Marcy’s knees, asking where such a thing could be purchased for future use. Steve listed a few special stores he ordered supplies from and recommended keeping the tape on for three days at a time.

“You can keep these on until we meet again on Wednesday,” Steve said, flattening the adhesive to secure Marcy’s elbow. “Ori has you down three times a week for the next six weeks, so save any tape you buy on your own for weekends if you need it.”

Satisfied with his work, Steve patted Marcy’s shoulder as a signal to get off the table. She winced and said that she could feel her shoulder start to give when he did that, and asked far too politely for a Hargrove to not do it again.

“You got it,” Steve agreed. He held up the hinged brace and raised his eyebrows at Marcy. “You should wear this at school or whenever you’re gonna be active just for extra security, but don’t wear it all the time. Braces stabilize, but they also let the muscles rest a little too much, and we’re trying to make you the next Kerri Strug, okay?”

Marcy nodded and carefully climbed off of the table. Steve tried not to react to the sickening crack of her ankles when she made it to the floor.

“Why don’t you go get a sucker or something from Alice at the front desk? I’ll put you on the schedule for Wednesday.”

Marcy smiled at you and took off towards the crochet old woman who snoozed on the job.

Steve turned to you and put his hands on his hips. “Look, if you’re gonna have me lie about what Billy was really like, you need to clue me in on what you’ve been telling her.”

Your eyes narrowed in disgust. “Are you judging me, Harrington?”

“Wha-? No!” Steve answered with exasperation. “I just don’t want to say something to confuse her. Like Max. Does she even know Billy has a sister?”

Clearly bringing up his redheaded friend was the wrong thing to do. Your lips twisted into a vicious scowl. “Billy didn’t have a sister.”

“See!” Steve exclaimed. “This is exactly what I’m talking about! If you don’t tell me what to say, I’ll confuse her, and I really don’t think you want that.”

“Or, we could just not talk about him,” you offered rather unhelpfully. “You’re supposed to be working with her, not socializing.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Come on. You saw how she lit up thinking he was teaching kids how to swim when we both know he was probably drowning them to see if the fat ones could float.”

You peered at him through narrowed eyes with so much intensity that Steve thought you could see his bones like an x-ray.

He sighed in defeat and rubbed his palm over his forehead when you didn’t answer him after a while. “Fine. It’s not my business. We’ll just steer the conversation away from Billy if she asks, alright?”

You rocked onto the balls of your feet. “I get out of work at six tomorrow evening. Meet me at Fuji’s Bistro by 6:15 and we’ll talk,” you said uneasily.

“No, really, it’s fine,” Steve argued, walking towards the open gym door. “You don’t have to tell me anything.”

You followed him. “I don’t. But I will.”

He nodded slowly. “Fuji’s. 6:15 tomorrow.”

“If you’re not there by 6:30 I’m bolting and we let it go—Eddie Munson as I live and breathe! It’s a damn Hawkins reunion here today!”

Steve snapped his neck in the direction of your gaze and saw Eddie grin and wave like an idiot at you.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, pulling you into a sideways one armed hug. “Like seeing a ghost!”

Steve felt like a bigger ass for not knowing who you were if even Eddie knew you from looks alone. “You know each other?”

“Pfft. Yeah,” Eddie chortled. “Spent a whole weekend together trying to keep Hargrove from climbing the walls on a bad trip. That kind of war experience creates a lifelong bond, Steve.“

“Like I don’t already know that,” Steve muttered to himself.

Eddie ignored Steve and pressed on. “What brings you to our neck of the woods after all the time?”

You leaned around Eddie to call Marcy over. When the young girl left her spot at the front desk, looking like maybe she was bending all the paper clips into straight lines and rendering them useless, she came to stand by you.

Eddie gasped as he eyed the last Hargrove. “No! Way!” He stared at you with an open mouth. “That’s why you moved!”

Steve felt even more annoyed that Eddie could spot the resemblance without being told when he couldn’t.

“Marcy, this is Eddie, Eddie this is my daughter Marcy,” you introduced them. “Eddie went to school with us.”

“You knew my dad, too?!” she squealed.

“Sure did, kid,” Eddie laughed. “I could tell you some stories, but I’m not sure your mom here would let me live if I did.”

You whacked Eddie in the chest with the back of your hand. “We’ve got to get going. It was really nice seeing you. We should catch up sometime.” You steered Marcy gently by the shoulders towards the lobby exit. “6:15, Harrington. Don’t be late,” you said with a final nod and disappeared into the hall.

Steve let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in and collapsed onto the lobby couch. Of all the things he thought would happen today, Marcy Hargrove was not one of them.

No, the one I like is in Hawkins. 

C'moooon. STOP BEING STUPID! KISS. DATE. MARRY. HAVE CHILDREN ALREADY!!

"I have a girlfriend!"

Wait, wait, wait. WHAT?? OMGGGG. 😫😫😫😫 I can't even be angry with Steve because he waited so much for y/n and he deserves someone who can makes him happy the way he deserves. 😭😭😭 I didn't think that read Steve say that the other girl is funny and sweet and that he wants to give it a chance would hurt me so much 😭😭😭

Loved the chapter. Your writing really amazes me 😍😍

timing's a bitch (s.h) - 3/5

spring '86

i almost had you and i almost wish you would've loved me too - almost, bowling for soup (x)

"if you have chemistry, you only need one other thing...timing. but timing is a bitch" - how i met your mother

a.k.a a.k.a the three times that steve harrington chose the wrong moment, the one time that you chose the wrong moment, and the one time you both got it right (series masterlist)

You didn’t come back to Hawkins until Spring. 

It was nothing to do with Steve. Actually, nothing had changed with him. Aside from looking at him and realising that he was single-handedly responsible for the best night of your life, he was still Steve to you. Steve, who you had shaken hands with and agreed that neither of you would ever mention the hook up. Steve, who had insisted you both have a mature conversation about your fight. Steve, who had continued to drive to the city every other fucking weekend since then so you could spend time together as best friends. Just best friends. Nothing else. Even though you shared ice cream at Coney Island and stalked through Battery City at six in the fucking morning to admire the views. You shared a bed and many demons but here you were. Best friends. 

Spring Break came around quicker than you expected. You’d been eager to spend more than a singular weekend at home and actually catch up with your old friends; coffee with Nancy and record shopping with Eddie were all on the agenda, but Steve had insisted on booking you up for most of the week you were home. In some way, hooking up had accidentally brought you closer. All signs of co-dependency that you would rather have ignored than face in couples therapy. Who had the money? 

That night had played on your mind over and over again, as had the other night that you and Steve almost-but-didn’t actually hook-up. That word, you’d found, had come up a lot in recent months: almost. You almost slept with him. You almost took Steve up on his offer of a relationship. You almost begged him to stay the morning after you fucked. So many almosts in the space of just a few months and it was starting to fry your brain. You’d gone fourteen years without ever thinking of Steve as anything more than a friend; fourteen years pitying whichever girl he was trying to woo that week. You’d never anticipated that you might one day be one of those girls. 

It didn’t feel as bad as you thought it would.

Your first day home, as promised to your parents, was spent at their house. It was unpacking and lunch and then catching up on what you’d done since Christmas - though you refrained from telling them who you had done -and then finally, around sun down, they released you from their grip to go and meet your friends at the lake. Steve, as promised, pulled up outside your house at 8:02PM. 

He met you half-way up the garden path, taking you in his embrace.

“Hey, stranger!”

“Hey, Steve,” you laughed. “I only saw you last week-”

“- in New York,” he cut you off, releasing you from his grip. He ran a hand over your hair with a grin. “Seeing you in Hawkins is…different.”

You frowned. “Different how?”

“Just different,” he shrugged. “C’mon, everyone’s already at the lake.”

“Yeah, sorry,” you huffed, following Steve to the car. “My mum was talking my ear off for like three hours about my Aunt Fiona’s operation.”

Steve smiled. “Don’t apologise. I visited her in hospital last week and she’s doing okay.”

“You visited my aunt in hospital?”

“Well…yeah,” he said it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ve known her basically my entire life.”

“It’s not that,” you replied. “It just looks really bad that I didn’t come from New York earlier to see her-”

“-it’s okay, you’re busy,” he shrugged. “Besides, I will always be Fiona’s favourite. The Golden Child.”

You chattered back and forth until you reached the lake. 

As promised, Nancy was already down there with the gang and, true to her nature, she’d brought everything you could possibly need. A tent, towels, stuff to make s’mores when the sun went down. Evening was slowly creeping in but it was still very warm out - maybe seventy or so degrees - and the water looked beautiful under the pink sunset. Save for a few other groups dotted about the shores, the lake was pretty quiet. That meant that the group had spread out a little. 

Still, that didn’t stop them all piling in your direction as soon as they saw you get out of Steve’s car. Nancy first, and then Robin, and then finally Eddie Munson wrapped his wily arms around you and dragged you over to where they were sat. There was no pointing in screaming and kicking - he was freakishly strong after all - because that would only encourage him even more to dump you straight in the lake. So, you were grateful when he dropped you on the ground and handed you a beer from his cooler. 

“Beers are on me, ladies,” he grinned proudly. “Stole ‘em from my uncle.”

“And they say romance is dead,” Robin muttered. 

“So,” Nancy rolled her eyes at them, pulling the attention to you. “How’s New York? How’s college?”

“It’s amazing!” you grinned. “The city is amazing and college is amazing and…it’s amazing.”

Steve leant over to you, voice lowered. “Say amazing one more time and we might believe you.” 

“I wanna go to a proper one next year when I’m done with this community college bullshit,” Eddie chimed in. “I hear the hook-up culture is amazing at the inner-city ones. Better than it is here, I hope.”

“I mean…yeah, it’s good,” you shrugged. “Depends where you go, though.”

“There must be so many guys in New York,” Nancy said. “Found any nice suitors yet?”

No, the one I like is in Hawkins. 

You glanced over at Steve, but shook your head. “There’s been some here and there but…all that’s boring. Let’s go in the lake before it gets dark!”

With that you, you cleared your throat and stood up. Tossing aside your t-shirt, you kicked off your shoes and ran into the water before anyone could ask any further questions.

The lake was cold, despite the warm air, and you quickly regretted throwing yourself in so quickly. Even though the ice cold water wasn’t any less painful than the conversation you were having back on the shore, you sort of preferred the suffering when it was just a metaphorical sense. Still, you forced yourself to swim further out in an attempt to get away and to warm-up. Two birds, one stone and all that. The lake wasn’t massive but still, you only got half way out before your arms began to ache.

Grabbing onto a buoy, you pulled yourself up to catchy our breath. You’d never been the strongest swimmer but you could have been an Olympian when it came to running away from conversations you didn’t want to have. Only for a little while, though, because Steve - who was an annoyingly quick swimmer - was already on his way over. The other three, it seemed, were stood on a bridge arguing over who was going to go in first. Nancy pushing Eddie in was the last thing you made out before your best friend arrived on the scene. 

“They get too much for you already?”

You smiled a little bit, shaking your head. “No, they just ask a lot of questions.”

“And you ran away because…?”

“I-” you began, but then stopped. “No reason, Steven. I just wanted to get in the water before it got too cold.”

“Y’know I hate when you call me Steven,” he muttered. “That’s not even my legal name-”

“- yeah, but it’s funny when you get mad.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you grinned. 

“Something’s on your mind, isn’t it?” Steve asked. 

“What makes you say that?”

“Your constant changing on the subject, the fact you near enough drowned yourself when Nancy raised the question of boys-”

“- I just wanna enjoy tonight,” you cut him off. “I appreciate you looking out for me but right now, let’s just have fun. Please?”

Steve nodded and gave you a little smile. “Of course - just as long as you promise to tell me what it is later?”

“Yeah, I promise.”

“And you know I’ve always got you,” he kept one hand on the buoy, raising the other to give you a light punch on the shoulder. “Provided that this new thing of running into freezing cold water every time you’re inconvenienced doesn’t become a habit, m’kay?”

“Lakes are a very good way of avoiding certain subjects,” you teased. “And you still came in after me.”

“I said it in sixth grade when I saved you from the pool and I’ll say it again,” he said. “I will always come after you.”

That was a promise he had kept: Steve had never not come after you. After every bad date and bad day and bad anything, he’d always been there. He’d come after you on New Years Eve simply just because he missed you and tonight, he’d come after you the second you’d run away. He’d saved you in every way since you slipped and fell in the pool all those years ago. 

You took one hand off the buoy, gently placing it on Steve’s face. His eyes followed your movements, brown irises never leaving your form as you thumb softly stroked his cheek. Any other time, he would have slapped it away and called you cheesy, but right then, he didn’t move. In fact, he was stone cold still as you leant in towards him - not from the cold, and not from shock either. Wasn’t it sort of established that kissing was just a thing you did now?

Steve met you half way, face slowly inching towards yours. 

And then, as if by magic, you both suddenly pulled backwards just before your lips touched. 

“I have a girlfriend!”

“I’m dropping out of college!”

The revelations came at the same time and were met with equal looks of shock on both your faces. You reeled backwards, not bothering to avoid splashing Steve as you did. Eyes wide with surprise and what he thought might have been fury, you pulled yourself to the other side of the buoy to take a moment. Just a moment, even a singular second, to process what the fuck he had just said. 

Steve was in a similar situation; he’d never even considered the idea that you might ever move home so soon. After all the bullshit conversation about things changing and this is what I want, Steve, even the possibility had seemed so far fetched. He would have been overwhelmed with joy at your revelation had you not looked like you were about to stab him. 

“What the fuck?!” you demanded. “When you were going to tell me that?!”

“When were you going to tell me about you dropping out?!”

“I think we should talk about your thing first!” you said. “So I’ll ask again - when you were gonna tell me?” 

“I don’t know!” Steve exclaimed. “Tonight, probably? Maybe tomorrow? Honestly, it was just something I was going to slip into conversation-”

“- we talk every fucking day, Steve! Every day say hey, what’s new? and you NEVER thought to answer the question with I HAVE A FUCKING GIRLFRIEND?!”

“I thought you’d be happy for me!”

“You’re so stupid,” you muttered. “I’m not angry at you for having a girlfriend, I’m angry at you because you didn’t tell me, and also maybe a little angry that we almost just kissed and you didn’t stop me earlier!”

“I forgot?”

“How do you forget?”

Steve sighed. “Imagine the thing you want most in the world. And then imagine finding a thing that makes you almost as happy as the last thing. And then imagine that the first thing, the thing you want most in the world, is trying to kiss you and you temporarily forget about the other thing-”

“- I’m the thing you want most in the world?” you asked softly.

“In any form, yes,” he admitted. “I met this girl a few weeks ago at the arcade. She’s funny and sweet and…I really want to give it a chance, okay? I owe it to myself because I think, to some extent, I might still be recovering a little from your rejection. You are not easy to get over.”

You smiled, giving him a little nod. “So I’m too late to ask you to take a chance on us when I move back?”

“‘Fraid so,” he murmured. “I love being your best friend and I’m so glad that you’re mine, but like I said, getting over you is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. You’re on my mind 24/7 and after we hooked up, it only got worse and…honestly? I think I might just need to let myself be with someone else for a while. She’s good for me. The change is good.”

“Yeah,” you tried to swallow your pain, forcing a grimace. “Change can be good.”

“Can we talk about your thing now?” he asked. “Are you really dropping out?”

“Mm,” you nodded. “I haven’t been happy for a while. I tried to wait it out but I think I need to come home for a while.”

“And I’ll be here every step of the way, I promise,” Steve said. “C’mon, let’s head back to shore before it gets dark.”

“Yeah, I’ll be right behind you.”

Steve gave you one last smile before letting go of the buoy and swimming away. As soon as he was a few meters out, you released your grip too and let yourself slip underwater. Only for a second, just long enough to open your mouth and let out the world’s biggest yell  of frustration. On and on and on, until your lungs hurt from the presence of screaming and absence of breathing. Then, you re-submerged to the surface and took a deep breath. 

If only you’d been a few weeks earlier.

taglist: @yaskna @karasong @etherealforever234 @i-bitch-you-bitch @aphex2winn @raes-gay @handsupforamiracle @palmtreesx3 @lokiofasgard616 @notahappystan @we-out-here-simping @angel-jz @suniloli @mapleransom-blog @thexplosivegirl @lou-la-lou @eddiemunsonloml

At six o'clock Steve stares at you from the misted window as you untie the ribbon on your apron, take it off and disappear into the back of the shop. He knows you're tired and you just want to go home. He knows it, because it's the first thing you always said to him after the shift, in another life: before Vecna, before the war, before you forgot about him forever. 

I didn't expect it. Omg. You shattered my heart from this paragraph onwards. 😭😭

And the ending 😭🤌

Remember Me- Steve Harrington

Summary: Every morning Steve shows up at the coffee shop you work in and every morning you hope is the one where the cute stranger will finally talk to you. But it never happens and maybe you don't really need it. Yet, while you wait at the tables with a smile, you can't help but wonder why you feel like you've known him all your life.

Words count: 3.8k

Tags: Fluff and Angst. Post-season4 Steve Harrington / Post War/ Mentions of major character death.

Y/n smells like coffee and lemons. A strange mix that Steve still doesn't know whether its good or not. You move around the shop with a circumstantial smile on your face, a tray in your hands and a green apron used as an impassable wall against the rest of the world, your armor.

Yet you can't take your eyes off that customer, who oders American coffee every morning and sit at the table furthest from people. Sometimes he brings a curly-haired boy with him, other times there's a beautiful girl with big blue eyes - perhaps his girlfriend, perhaps a friend - and with them he smiles slightly more. But he is often alone and clarly wants to be.

You're sorry for that. You don't even know why, you have so much else to think about. You moved in the USA just a few years ago, from your  country you ended up in the middle of nowhere, in Indiana, and when you  arrived you discovered that this place is not as safe and boring as you believed. Strange deaths, accidents, earthquakes, natural disasters like it has been cursed and to be honest you have the feeling of having lost a good part of the time spent here. Now, apart from the fact that this place sucks, you should think about having fun, hanging out with boys, trying to make friends like your aunt says, but you don't. You go home at night and think of a sad stranger and you don't want to, you really don't want to but you do. Silly girl.

"What can I get you sir?" you ask, like every day. When he's alone he usually doesn't reply, he mumbles something under his mouth, looks into your eyes and points his finger at his choice. The menu next to the paper napkins is his voice and you like to listen to it.

"I'll bring it to you right away." There are no smiles between you, even if you would like to. Sometimes you've found yourself wanting a simple "thank you" said properly, not half-mouthed or in a whisper. Yet there's kindness even in the way he moves, the way he isolates himself and it's something you can't explain.

When you place the coffee on the table – a breath away from his fingers – he usually just looks at you. His are not eyes to remain indifferent to. It's not the color that makes them  so special, they're big and dark, but it's their depth, the way they seem to be a portal to that boy's soul, the way they peer into you and seem to contain not a shred of malice and seen too much. They look like a child's eyes, actually. They have something pure, sincere, tremendously tender and at the same time they contain the gaze of a veteran and they defeat you. He looks at you and you are chained. But that's okay, you wouldn't have tried to resist anyway.

He looks at you with something that reminds you of sweetness, hints at a half smile - the first - and this alone is enough to burn you inside,  even if it's snowing outside.

The boy doesn't like snow, he's always in a bad mood when it snows. One day you overheard him talking about it with his friend Dustin, Dexter, something like that. 

"Everytime I fear he is coming back"

"He can't, you know it . We made sure it can't happen again"

"Yes, but at what coast?" and his voice had broken in a yearning way, on the last syllable, like a raging river that you thought you would see burst. When you turned to look at him not a single emotion had appeared on his face. You would like to know what happened to him.

Everyday you look away from him when you realize you've spent too much time staring at him and walk away, ignoring the abandoned baconnotes on the table, silent like him. You feel stupid, a high school girl staring at the mysterious lonely boy. It's ironic and you don't know it yet, but there was a time Steve Harrington was the opposite of mysterious and lonely.

This morning it's different and you don't run away. You linger a moment too long on the marks that can be glimpsed from his shirt, scars on his neck that seem to continue under the fabric of his shirt for who knows how long. You've already noticed some small signs, but usually he's very careful to cover them. Today they are redder and more visible. You notice more scars, these never seen before, on his arms and you realize only now that he has cut his hair and when he moves them you notice and old wound on the left side of his face. 

If he wasn't around your age you'd really think he's a war veteran. You wonder what he must have been through and you don't notice his hand extended towards the cup, which meets yours. For the first time, you feel the contact with his skin, a silent echo of an unexpressed desire. You know nothing about him, barely his name. "Steve" You've heard from his friends. You know nothing of his life; still for an instant you dream of being part of it with all the monsters he must have fought to hurt himself like this. You talk with your eyes for as long as you stay close: you with a silent voice full of questions, he with a single answer. And it's always the same.

To each request, he reacts by moving his fingers, running along your palm and thumb, making red-hot marks that only you can see. You feel them, like burns on your skin, as if you are no longer in the cafeteria, surrounded by people, but in a private place, where every gesture, every touch acquires meaning. And there's no need for him to say anything, you know that today he wanted you to see his scars, he wanted to understand how you would react, he wanted you to see him for real. And you do it, you really see him, and you don't get scared. You never could. You don't know why. 

«Y/n please, could you bring me more coffee?»Another guy asks. He is just another is a customer, an ordinary, common one. Not like him. Just a guy who shows up often, asking you for coffee and smiles. And you're willing to give it to him, you're willing to pretend with the others but not with Steve, with him you only smile when you really want to and it's absurd that in his presence this happens more or less always. 

"Sure! " Breaking contact  with Steve seems more tiring than studying for the last exam, more painful than finding out you didn't pass it. You feel yourself blush as you bow your head and flutter your eyelashes, tucking the tray under your arm. Sorry, you say in one last look, ready to leave him. But he grabs your wrist with the delicacy that distinguishes him, making you turn around again. Blush again.

"I'm Steve." I know, you would like to answer however you avoid doing that. It's the first time you can hear his voice right, with words articulated slowly, fearlessly, spoken for you and you alone .

«Y/n.»

Steve runs his thumb along the inside of the wrist before letting you go, in an almost automatic gesture that he seems to regret immediately. A Last, anxious caress, which reveals what his eyes have always hidden.

"I know"

These words are the most exciting thing you've heard in a while. Suddenly you understand why Steve comes in every day, stealing a look and a few minutes of your life. Or so you believe. You feel a shiver running down your back, turning into a burning caress - the one you would like from him - and going up your spine, up to your ears. It's hope. 

You don't know how or why, you feel as if you already know him, as if in another life your skin has touched nothing but his, and you don't even believe in these things. Maybe he feels the same, the same overwhelming nostalgia for something you haven't even experienced. You hope you're right, you hope he comes here every day  just to see you, to search for a contact that happened by chance - by mistake - and to show you his tormented gaze of him, looking for the peace that he has lost in you. 

«I'll bring you some coffee» You say to another customer, looking at him without seeing him.

I have to talk to Steve. I can't let him go. Not like that. You hurry to get the hot container of coffee and reach the customer's table, dedicating a smile and a moment of your life to him. A moment that he could have, or should have, dedicated to someone else.  "Are you on duty again tonight?" You almost don't hear the question, taken as you are from another table, another customer, one different from the others. Your mind is only on Steve. "Yes," you say, glancing at Steve to make sure he's still there. He is. You suddenly feel calmer. "But only until six."

"It's already dark at six" the boy observes. "I could take you home..."

"There's really no need to, thanks." You walk up to the counter to put the container away. You hear the doorbell ring, and feel the brutal urge to turn around. 

Steve's table is now empty.

*

At six o'clock Steve stares at you from the misted window as you untie the ribbon on your apron, take it off and disappear into the back of the shop. He knows you're tired and you just want to go home. He knows it, because it's the first thing you always said to him after the shift, in another life: before Vecna, before the war, before you forgot about him forever. 

You put on your coat, gloves and wool cap, and say goodbye to your colleague. "See you tomorrow." You pull the scarf up on your chin as you open the door.  

After the war with Vecna and the disappearance of the Upside Down, even the climate has changed. The ice covers the streets, leaving just two gray trails to show the asphalt. There are very few cars parked outside the cafeteria, a badly parked red BMW stands out, it's the only one not covered in snow. Steve smiles seeing you, he holds back from calling you, enjoying the image: a colored spot in the whiteness of winter. You puff. It's cold, and you have to walk home, your high boots sinking into the white blanket, the houses still to be rebuilt across the street are the only sign of the drama Hawkins has experienced. An earthquake so strong that it has destroyed everything. You have been hurt, a head injury big enough to steal a piece of your life. A piece so important that you're only retrieving the fragments of your life here, tales of your aunt, your friends, which for some reason never seem to fit right together 

"Hey." A male voice calls you. You keep moving forward. It is not the first time that some stranger tries to approach you .

«Y/n.» You turn around, you see him and suddenly the snow and the cold disappear and the world is a warm and beautiful place. Steve. "Hello, y/n." You take a step towards him and stop, as if you've dared too much. "What are you doing out here?"

 With this wheater. You think you know the answer. And you hope to hear it from him.

"I'm here for you" Would be the sweetest music. But Steve shrugs, makes an embarrassed noise, pulling his jacket around him. You seem to notice a redness on his cheeck, you wonder if it's not just the cold. "What does it mean?" You ask, letting out a smile, tossing your tied hair. Steve's eyes catch yours, in a silent response that seems to be enough for you. For a moment everything is as before for Steve, you are only you and he is only him and in your eyes he finds the girl he fell in love with during a war that you shouldn't have had to fight. 

You arrived like lightning a year ago alongside the only friend you managed to make in the city at that time: Eddie Munson, and you were the first -together with Dustin- to try to prove his innocence, with all that this entailed: including demobats, Upside Down and Vecna. Now you don't remember anything, and maybe a little part of Steve is happy you don't have to carry the trauma with you, but you don't remember the good things either. You don't remember Eddie. When you look at his old posters or find his photos on the newspapers, to you he is just the killer who terrorized the city and you don't mourn his death. But you did it, you did it until you lost your breath, screaming at the top of your throat in the middle of the darkest night. Steve had to drag you from his  body by force, against your punches and kicks. You melted into his embrace, you vented the pain with such force that he feared your bones might break from the powerful sobs that shook you. Steve lulled you into a tormented sleep and watched over you. And then there was Max. The list of fallen soldiers got longer. Murray.Hopper, again. Will.

And Robin, oh, Rob. 

You were the only thing keeping Steve alive after that. When his best friend fell into his arms, Steve wanted to die and for a moment he stood still, ready to let himself be taken by the same cursed monster that stole Robin from him. But you were there and you needed him, he had to keep you alive. He had to think about Dustin.

Then he lost you too. In a different, unexpected way. When Vecna took you, he thought you were going to die, because the music wasn't playing and you were floating in the air and he, he looked away, like a coward, he gave up. He decided he didn't want to see you die, not like that. He regrets it every day. All he did was prepare to grab your lifeless body, imagining that he would be the next one to die. He couldn't live in a world without Robin.

 But in a world without Robin where he didn't even have you, it was torture, hell. The world was shaking again and the earth was cracking  and Steve desperately wanted to die. But you fell into his arms still alive and breathing and Eleven had killed Vecna and all you had were broken bones and a head injury from the pressure exerted by that monster. Steve didn't know it at the time, but you also had a brain injury, something strong enough to erase everything from the last three years. Everyithing about him. Your family, despite being aware of the situation, has decided not to tell you anything, to keep you away from them, from Steve.

 After all if it wasn't for them you wouldn't have been involved. Also Steve promised to protect you and he didn't. He had failed you , as he did with Robin.

Dustin has kept him alive, keeping him company in the months of solitude spent locked up in his house. Nance forced him to eat every day and Erica, Erica remained silent next to him for hours and that was enough at least for a while. Then, at a certain point, Steve saw you from the shop windows, you were working, smiling. 

And it wasn't enough anymore.

The sky is black, the streetlights barely lit up the street, yet you can understand more about Steve right now, looking at his face wrapped in half-light, than you ever guessed during these endless mornings. «Y/n» your colleague opens the door, investing you with warmth and light, so much so that you lower your eyelids.

"Sorry... I saw you out here. I just wanted to let you know that I'll come early tomorrow so you can go home early." You nod as the door closes. When you turn to Steve, you find him closer than when you last looked at him. You see his breath condense between you and join yours. Heat mingling with heat, and desire meeting desire. Steve nods at the BMW.

"I... I didn't mean to scare you, I just... I can take you home if you want." 

There is a fire inside you, even if you can't explain why. You should be scared of an unknown guy who comes to your workplace every morning and now silently approaches you to offer you a ride home on a dark winter afternoon, but the truth is that Steve makes you feel so many things and fear it's not one of them. You think that this is his car, that the car says so much about people, that you want to see what he keeps inside it, the objects that are important to him. There is probably his scent inside it. 

Steve smells good, clean.You know, you just don't know why.  "That is fine." 

"Steve, can I... Can I ask you a question?" You ask after a few steps in silence. He nods, keeps walking, his arm against yours looking for even the slightest contact. He needs it, or else he'll sink. He needs it to keep himself on his feet when dark comes and in the streets he sees the faces of his dead appear. When your bodies touch, over layers of fabric, you feel your skin melt and you wonder if maybe you're crazy. "Why me?"It's a strange question, you know, you're a little ashamed of it, and you're afraid of scaring him but you feel, somewhere inside you, that maybe he has the answer you were looking for, the missing piece in your story. Or maybe it's just an illusion. He turns around, his gaze softens and he observes you like the answer is the most obvious thing in the world. Because there is no other girl.

 He doesn't say it, he can't. He doesn't want to mess with you, he doesn't want to lose you again and scare you. 

"You know y/n, I've never met a waitress as good as you." 

You laugh, putting a hand over your mouth. "You're an easy guy to get Steve Harrington"

He opens his eyes wide and you don't realize it but is'shere, clear, limpid: Steve has never said his surname. You don't notice, not really. You keep walking beside him. "Thanks," you whisper as you let your arm slide, intertwining it with his. What would it be like to really feel his skin? 

Warm. Rough in the points furrowed by scars, soft in the rest of the body. To Feel the sensation of  naked flesh on your lips, the scent of laundry, the saltiness of his body, the pulse of the vein on his neck, where you place a kiss that isn't there, never was. It's a fantasy that looks a lot like a memory. It scares you. "Let's go." He exhorts you, with shyness and a touch of fear his hand moves to your back and your body is warm under his gaze. His breath is against his cheek, slips under the scarf, up to your neck."Yes" he says, holding his breath. It's cold, but not that much, not now, not for you. Not when you feel Steve's nose against your ear, not when he notices your twitch too. Steve closes his eyes, tries to refrain from telling you everything, from holding you tightly to him, it's so difficult now that he has you close again to resist, to keep a distance that hurts and he doesn't want. "Are you cold?" Steve asks  in a low voice, but for you this question is so much like the caress you've been craving since you became aware of his presence in the shop, since you met his gaze."Not at all'."

You feel Steve's smile on your cheek and you feel like you're. You just turn your head, just to give him the opportunity to reach your lips, but Steve doesn't kiss you, he's still with his eyes closed and who knows what he thinks of you, looking for a kiss from someone you don't even know

."You smell like coffee." The words are an incandescent breath on the mouth. His breath join yours,  you can feel the the taste of him – mint and aftershave – before you even smell it, like you've never tasted anything else in your life. 

"You don't like it?" Thrill after thrill, waiting to discover something about him that you don't know yet. Everything, you have to find out everything, but it seems to you that you have known him for a lifetime."I love coffee" You know he is lying. You just know. But you don't care. Just one question goes through your head and in order not to give it a voice you decide to shut your mouth in the best possible way at the moment. You shiver a little when your lips are close to him. You trace his cheek slowly with your lips, waiting for the moment when he pulls back and tells you you're crazy. You look for the right way to kiss him. 

"I don't usually do that. You must have something very special" You whisper against him. And Steve can't take it anymore, like a dam that breaks its banks, he pushes you completely against him, as if you were one. And then, finally, he finds his way. When he kisses you – slowly at first, giving your lips time to get to know each other; then devouring your every thought, as if nothing else exist but you – you find yourself repeating to yourself that you don't want to kiss anyone anymore. Touch no one anymore. Let anyone kiss and touch you except from Steve. 

"Steve" You murmur breathlessly, pulling away from him. "Would you think I'm crazy if I tell you something?"He shakes his head, his lips swollen and beautifully red. "Never"

"I knew you before, didn't I?" Now Steve Harrington no longer has the strength to lie.Steve Harrington has come to get his girl back and far off in the dark of night he swears he can see Robin Buckley smiling at him for it.

" Steve doesn't love her!" Dustin says as he flays his arms around before clasping a hand over his mouth like he wasn't suppose to say that.

WHAT?? Someone please beat his ass. How dare Steve try to marry her just to try to get over Nancy?!

Someone please beat Eddie's ass too. But after he can kiss y/n.

Glass Hearts~ S.H ft E.M

Summary : A year ago you told Eddie how you feel about him, he doesn't feel the same and now your ready to walk down the aisle to marry Steve Harrington.

Angst

He stared at you with an apologetic look on his face, swallowing the lump in his throat as his lips are in a thin line. The silence from him is ticking by the minute. Your heart is grasping at the little thought, the little hope and the little wonder that he felt the same way about you.

" I'm sorry, sweets. But I don't feel the same way that you do. You're my best friend and that's all I'll ever see you as" He says. A tear manages to run down your cheek as you nod, silently.

" That's okay" you say through your tears that keep running down your cheeks. Your voice sounds broken and your heart felt like someone cut a knife through it.

Eddie frowns as he looks at you. He feels bad that he can't return your feelings.

" I should go, my mom needs me home by dinner" you lie as you wipe away your tears with the back of your tears. Eddie nods because it's the only think he can think about of doing. You wrap your arm around yourself as you exit out of his trailer.

Eddie doesn't run after you and doesn't beg you to stay. You slowly approach your car and throw the driver side door open as you sit inside. With your hands in your lap, tears running down your cheeks and heart cracked in two, you start the car as it roars to life.

Eddie watches from the window of his trailer as you drive away after a few moments with a heavy sigh feeling like he lost his best friend that day.

You stared into the mirror at yourself standing in your wedding dress as you twirl around it. You felt the happiest you have ever been nearly minutes away from marrying the man that put your heart back together, the man you love and the man that you couldn't wait to start a life with.

A knock to the door interrupts your thoughts.

" Come in" you don't even turn around to see who it was as the doors open as Max wheels in with El by her side. Max's eyes go wide at the sight of you in your wedding dress.

El has tears in her eyes as she puts her hand over her mouth staring at you in awe.

" You're stunning" Max says as she wheels to be besides you. Her hair is down and she's wearing a dress to match the colors of the flowers you will be holding. " Pretty" El says as she takes a hold of the side of your wedding dress.

Your hands are folded together on top of your wedding dress as you continue to look at yourself in the mirror. You couldn't believe it that the day has come. You were going to marry Steve Harrington, your best friend and the man that stole your heart.

" What's wrong?" El says, " Do you not want to marry Steve?" she asks. You chuckled as you wiped your tears away.

" I do, he's perfect"

The door flies open and Robin steps in wearing a tux with Nancy by her side. She has your flowers in her hands. Steve had asked Robin to be his best man while El was your maid of honor. She has been like your little sister to you.

" Steve is going to drop as soon as he sees you" Robin says as she stares at you in awe.

" I'm so happy your the one that Steve is marrying" Nancy says giving you your flowers. You take them in your hands, " Me too. He's my happy ever after as much as cheesy as that sounds."

Meanwhile, Dustin, Mike and Lucas have rode on their bikes to Eddie's trailer. He was home as his van is parked out in the front. The music is loud coming from inside the trailer.

Eddie is laying on his bed with a cigarette in his mouth as he stares up at the ceiling. He remembers it like yesterday when you walked in with Steve trailing behind you, hand in hand and he never forgets the smile on your face when Steve tells the kids, and everyone else that you were his.

His heart clenches at the thought of when a year flies by and during one of the movie nights, Steve and you have a big announcement.

" Steve asked me to marry him!" you throw up your hand as you show the ring. He remembers Nancy, Robin, El, Max squeal as they all surrounded you to see the ring. Meanwhile Eddie slumped in his seat as he watched the happiness in your eyes and on Steve's face as the kids congratulate him.

" I'm happy for you, man" He says to Steve. Steve sees the look on Eddie's face and the glint in his eye. He doesn't say anything but Steve knows that Eddie feels like he lost.

" Eddie! Eddie!" his eyebrow scrunched together in one as he swings his legs over on his bed and stands up as he listens. There is banging on his door and his name behind called. He lowers the music to a minimum and listens. The banging increases, he mumbles underneath his breath and wonders who's at his door.

He opens the door seeing Dustin, Mike and Lucus.

" What do you want?" Eddie asks. He doesn't mean to be harsh ti them but he knows what day is today. Steve's and your wedding.

A pair of slacks, red button down is thrown at him with a black vest and he barley catches the items in his hands as he looks at the clothes in his hands to the little shrimps.

" What is this?" he asks. He already knows what this is but is playing dumb because there is no way he was going to go. He got your invitation from Robin who kept begging him to go, almost ripping his arm off but he refused. It hurt too much.

Over the year, Eddie has developed feelings for you. He had tried to push them aside no matter what. But it was the sound of your laughter, the way you smile, it took you some time to continue to be friends with him and he couldn't get you off his mind. His hugs lingered. His eyes lingered on you. He wrote a song about you. His heart raced around you. Yet, he lost you. To Steve Harrington.

" Get dressed, Eddie" Dustin says. The little shrimps were dressed for the wedding, Dustin had taken off his cap too.

" No" he says, walking back inside his trailer with them following him in. " Why not? Aren't you happy for her?" Lucus asks.

Eddie's back is turned to them as he closes his eyes.

" I am" he says throwing the clothes on the couch as if they were the most disturbing thing he has ever seen in his life. They burned his skin when he held them.

" Then why aren't you at the wedding?" Mike asks. Eddie's hands are in fist by his side as he shakes his head. " I have better thing to do" he says.

Dustin sigh as he looks at the other two, " He's in love with her."

Mike and Lucus share a look of disbelief.

" Then why aren't you stopping the wedding?" Mike asks. Eddie turns to look at him giving him a look of disbelief. " Are you crazy? She's marrying Steve. She loves Steve" Dustin says as he grabs onto Mike's shoulder and shakes him.

" But feeling don't go away that fast. She loved Eddie not a year ago" Lucas says.

" She did, now I've lost for her for good" Eddie says as he looks down at his hands. He twirls one of his ring fingers on his hands.

" You need to get her back" Dustin says. Eddie turns to him looking wide eyed not comprehending what Dustin is saying. " She's with Steve, I can't."

" Steve doesn't love her!" Dustin says as he flays his arms around before clasping a hand over his mouth like he wasn't suppose to say that.

" What?" the three asks him. Dustin gulps as he looks around the room. Eddie takes a step forward, " What do you know? Start talking, Henderson."

You were fixing your hair in the mirror when Hopper peaks, " Are you almost ready pumpkin?" He asks as he steps in and closes the door. Hopper wasn't your real dad but he was the father figure in your life after your father abounded you. He took you in as one of his own and adopted you.

" Almost" your hands shook as you played with the end of your hair. He walked over and sat besides you on the chair.

" Are you okay? Got the jitters?" He asks.

" Am I doing the right thing, dad?" you asked, looking down at your hands. " Pumpkin" he called you as he placed a hand on top of yours.

"Do you love him?" he asks talking about Steve.

" I do, he makes me the happiest"

" Do you picture having future with him?

" I do, there is no one I rather be with than him" you say.

" You have nothing to worry about then, pumpkin. The two of you love each other and he's a good boy that will take care of you. It took some time to warm up to him, but I believe he loves you and you two deserve each other."

" Thank you, dad" He leans down to kiss you on your cheeks. " I'll be right outside" he leaves you to your own thought as you look into the mirror at yourself.

Eddie is running up the stairs to the church as he throws the doors opened, panting as he looks up and down the corridor. Nancy happens to walk by and he takes a hold of her shoulders.

" Where is she? Where is Y/N?" he asks. Her eyes are wide as she takes in what he's wearing. She has never seen him like that.

" What are you doing here, Eddie?" she whispers as she looks down the hall. " She can't marry him, he doesn't love her. He still loves you" he tells her. Her eyes are wide as she takes a step back, grabbing at her necklace as she plays with it. Her eyes are teary as she tells him where you are.

" Thank you" he says as he rushes down the hall. Hopper spots him before he can get any further.

" Munson" Eddie stands before him with his hands up in the air.

" Sir" he start to say but Hopper shakes his head. " You better have a good reason to be here"

" Let him in, Hopper. Steve doesn't love her, he's been lying to your daughter. Eddie is the one who loves your daughter" Hopper looks over to Nancy then to Eddie.

He grumbles underneath his breath as he moves to the side. Eddie takes a few steps to the door as he stares at the brown large doors holding you inside.

His hand reaches out for the black door knob and pushes it open. You don't look at the person who enters the room as you take your flowers and take a deep breath. You turn around to face the person who walked in when your breath hitches locking eyes with him.

Eddie stand there with his hair pulled back in a low bun, his brown doe eyes are wide with his mouth a gap as he stares at you. He's wearing a red dress shirt, with the sleeves pulled to the elbows. He is wearing a black vest over it with black slacks. His chain is added to the slacks and he's in his Reeboks.

It screams even more prettier Eddie than you have ever seen.

" Eds?" you call out to him and he feels like his heart is about to jump out of his chest as he hears you call him. His face turns into a smile as he looks at you.

" You're absolutely beautiful" he says as he closes the door.

" What are you doing here?" you asked. He swallows the lump in his throat as his eyes turn to lock with yours. They are pleading and apologetic.

" He doesn't love you Y/N. You can't marry him.." he says. Your gaze turns dark as you glare at him, throwing your flowers to the ground.

"Why not? What makes you say that?" He takes a deep breathe and tells you what Dustin had told him. That Steve was only marrying you to try to get over Nancy, he was just using you to make Nancy jealous and that he didn't love you.

Your mouth goes in a thin line as silence takes over the room. You move back and collapse on the couch covering your face with your hands and your shoulders shake.

Your crying. Eddie makes his way over to you as he wraps an arm around you and pulls you into his chest. He lets you cry into his chest as he holds you.

Ugh, I want my boyfriend to drive to see me so we can go home together 😫😫

Steve is the best! Loved the story. ❤️🥰

Make It Back for Christmas (Steve Harrington x Reader)

Make It Back for Christmas (Rated T)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader (gender neutral)

Word Count: 1.9k+

Warnings: Mild brief language, holiday fluff, pining Steve and Reader

Summary: It's the last week of the semester and you're dying to head back home to Hawkins for the holiday festivities. Not only that, but you haven't heard from your boyfriend in a week and you're already going through withdrawals. Will you be able to make it back in time for Christmas?

God, you hated finals week. 

This wasn’t like anything you experienced in your high school years. Or was it? Thanks to the last semester of all-nighters and unbelievable amounts of cram studying, the last four years all blended together. 

Three exams. You had three exams this week. Plus a term paper, a research project… one of your professors thought it would be fun to have an exam and a nine-page paper due the same week. Was it nine pages single-spaced or double? Hell if you knew. Your brain had already begun to hurt just thinking about everything you did to army-crawl your way through to break. Even though most of the hard work was done, you weren’t out of the clear yet— you still had a five hour drive home on Saturday and you hadn't packed yet. 

You just had to select a college five hours away. You hated being away from your home of small town Hawkins, Indiana. You missed your family, your friends. Some nights there was nothing you wanted more than to spend a few hours at the local arcade or the neighboring video store. 

The only thing that made everything seem a bit more bearable was your boyfriend. Usually, Steve would be the first one you would call and talk to after your latest exam or assignment, but you haven’t been able to reach him in days. The two of you had gotten together the summer before you left for college. It was a sweet summer romance story. You had known each other for years, practically growing up together. It was the typical cliche: two friends who had been skirting around their feelings throughout high school, mainly due to one garnering a reputation. 

Although, when you were with Steve, that’s all he was: Steve. Not overly cocky King Steve, not party keg master Steve; he was Steve Harrington, your best friend since preschool who always stole your peanut butter and jelly sandwiches because you hated them. The same Steve who would sit with you for hours in the backyard watching the clouds or the stars, listening to you talk about your superficial problems like they were an international threat of war. The Steve who was so terrified going out on his first date with Samantha Hollis in the sixth grade, he spent most of the morning excessively brushing his hair and gargling mouthwash in your bathroom while talking about his big first kiss plan — a conversation that later had your stomach turning and your dinner in the upstairs toilet. You hadn’t realized it at first, but you had fallen head over heels for your best friend. 

When you finally recognized and came to terms with your feelings for Steve in junior year, it had been too late. He had already started his “perfect” relationship with his dream girl: Nancy Wheeler. You had no malice toward the girl. In fact, you were both good friends. It was just hard to maintain that friendship when all the conversations ever gravitated toward was, well, your shared connection. 

“Steve and I were going to see that movie!”

“Oh, you’ll never believe what Steve said the other night.”

“Oh my god, isn’t he so clumsy? It’s adorable.”

Forced smiles and friendly nods became second nature for you. All you wanted was for Steve to be happy. If he was happy with Nancy, then you were happy for him. You had to admit they made an attractive couple. She was helping him in ways you never could, helping him succeed instead of just encouraging him to try and make a change. They were an unstoppable team. Steve didn’t need you anymore and you had to come to terms with it. You slowly began to distance yourself, just so you could sort through your feelings and not be awkward around them. It made things easier at first. 

Then Nancy broke his heart at Tina’s halloween bash. Suddenly you found yourself thrust back and immersed into Steve’s life once more. Only this time, you leaned into his touches a little more than usual. You two sat a bit too close at movie night. You split too many meals at the local diner. It was only when Dustin Henderson made a passing comment about how the two of you acted like an old married couple did you snap back to reality and attempt to distance yourself from Steve again. He didn’t need to lose the love of his life and another friend at the same time because you couldn’t keep your feelings in check. So you resorted to only hang around him with the kids when he needed to play carpool, taking them to the arcade, or the farmer’s market, or even the grocery store to pick up 

This only seemed to confuse your best friend. “Why aren’t you spending time with me?” he asked you when you brought El and Max to the mall over the summer. 

“What are you talking about?” you tried to appear nonchalant, like you weren’t doing this on purpose even if it killed you. Unfortunately, your poker face needed some much needed work. 

“No, no,” the look he gave you that day would haunt you forever. Steve looked like you had just kicked his puppy right in front of him. “Don’t bullshit me. You’ve been avoiding me all summer since we graduated. The only time I ever see you is with the kids and even then you spend more time with Dustin than me!”

It was true. After Dustin had oh-so-kindly exposed your emotions, you had somehow convinced the child to be your partner in distracting you from Steve. Well, it was less of a convincing and more of a “if you breathe a word of this to anyone, I’ll lovingly end you” type of agreement. He stuck to you like Velcro when the three of you went out, making sure there were very few interactions that could lead into moments of longing. 

“It’s nothing, Steve,” you had tried explaining with no success. “Dustin just really wants my attention is all, I guess.” 

A frown on his face, Steve turned away mumbling something under his breath. You weren’t quite sure at the time, but it did sound oddly similar to, “he’s not the only one.”

It wasn’t until you found yourselves trapped in a Russian underground that you had to face more than one fear. Trapped in your own room, the soldiers tried to get you to admit how you found their base. They had even stabbed you with some type of drug, which you would only later discover its use. You couldn’t tell how long it was before you were released with the help of your best friend. Steve had looked so worse for wear, but even in the chaos, he was only concerned about your safety and well-being. 

“Are you okay?!” his slurred speech inquired as he ran hands up and down your arms before cradling your face. 

You weren’t sure if it was the stress or the inclusion of a truth serum in your system, but you did the only thing you could think of to answer his incessant questions: you leaned forward and kissed him. 

And he kissed you back. 

From that moment on, everything was different. You had gone from being best friends, to two people who went out to dinner, to being in an honest to goodness relationship. Just over a year later, you’re sat in your dorm room with a receiver broadcasting a busy signal in your ear. 

This was the sixth time this week Steve hadn’t answered the phone. He hadn’t called for his daily good morning or good nights. He didn’t call to check in on you during what he knew was going to be a stressful week. Concerned about his safety, you reached out to Dustin several times, who assured you that Steve was fine. He was just busy with all of the families renting out movies for the holidays. You knew you weren’t entitled to his time, but all the same…it had been a long week and all you wanted was to hear your boyfriend’s voice. 

Allowing a sigh to escape your lips, you dialed Steve’s number again, this time with the intent to leave a message. When the recording of his mother’s bored yet powerful voice played, you bit your lip to refrain from showing too much emotion over the phone. “Hey Steve,” you started. “It’s uh, it’s me calling…again. I just wanted to let you know that I, uh, that I miss you. Miss hearing your voice, seeing you. And I hope that you’re doing okay. Just a few more days until I can start my drive home and see you!” 

You let out a sad chuckle as there was a knock on your bedroom door. Your roommate, Allie, probably wanted to use the phone since you’d been hogging it for a few hours. “Oh, I gotta go. Call me back soon, okay? Love you.” As you hung up the phone, you moved to open the door. “Sorry, Allie. Just wanted to make sure-“

“Make sure I was doing okay?” A familiar voice cut you off and your breath caught in your throat.  You couldn’t believe it. Standing in front of you with rosy frost bitten cheeks, tired eyes, and the brightest smile you’ve ever seen was Steve. “I’d say I’m doing much better now that I’ve seen you, sweetheart.”

Without much thought, you ran into his arms and kissed him. And kissed him. And kissed him one more time, just for good measure. It was messy, all smiles and awkward breathing, but it was perfect. “What-“ you stuttered in surprise once you caught your breath. “What are you doing here? Why haven't you called?!”

Steve grinned sheepishly, head bent down to stare right in your gaze. A few strands of his perfectly unruly dark hair fell directly in his line of sight and you automatically moved your hand to brush it away. “I knew if I picked up the phone it would be really hard for me to keep my mouth shut. Did you really think I’d let my baby drive home alone for Christmas?” he said with mock disdain. “I don’t think that would make me a very good boyfriend, do you?”

“I have a car.”

“Yeah,” your boyfriend nodded in agreement, “but why waste gas if you’re not going to use it in Hawkins.” 

You frowned. What was he talking about? 

“Baby, you’re with the Harrington car service,” Steve’s smooth voice rolled over you like honey. “It’s door-to-door service, even during your trip.”

“….so you’re kidnapping me and not letting me drive my own car.” 

Steve gave a small huff, shoulders slouched. “Gee, when you put it like that…you really sucked the romance out of it, babe. You know I did just drive five hours-“

You silenced him with a gentle kiss to the lips. While not as rough or as passionate as the first reunion, it was just as loving. Your fingers curled around the soft fabric of his white Henley top and pulled him closer. He stumbled a bit from the action, but soon rested his hands on either of your hips, a low hum vibrating his throat. 

“I love you,” you whispered. 

The smile on Steve’s face stretched out to be a mile wide. “I love you, too, baby,” he replied, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “Now come on. Let’s get you all packed up.”

You laughed at his dramatic hand gestures before he crossed his way into your room. “Your chariot awaits, my dear,” he mused, turning his head to glance back at you over his shoulder. “It’s time to get you back home for Christmas.”

====================

Author's Note: So this is happening. Is everyone excited?! To say I've been looking forward to this event for the last month plus now. I just want to give a small shout-out and thank you to two very amazing people, @bakerstreethound (for encouraging me to keep writing) and @upsidedownwithsteve (for inspiring me to try my hand at this -- so sorry for the tag!).

Writing this and some of the other fics for this event have me convinced Steve would be the perfect boyfriend around the holidays, even if he may be a bit of Scrooge sometimes. The number of times I've smiled writing these pieces...I've lost count. But stay tuned because we have a lot more headed your way (including some dad!Steve...)!

If you liked this post and want to see more like it on my blog, please make sure to leave a comment and reblog it! While likes are appreciated, it's these two things that really help spread the word about my writing and motivate me to keep making new content! Until next time, my little sparks! <3

Not gonna lie, I'm a bit upset with y/n. C'mon, Steve drove to see y/n and y/n wouldn't leave her friends for one night? Okay, her life doesn't involve around Steve, but I think maybe she is being not a very good friend 😭😭

Why do I have a sentiment that I will cry in the next chapters?

timing's a bitch (s.h) - 2/5

n e w y e a r s '8 6

"if i just wanted someone to hold then really anyone would do, i close my eyes and really try not to turn them into you" no use i just do, hayley williams (x)

"if you have chemistry, you only need one other thing...timing. but timing is a bitch" - how i met your mother

a.k.a the four times that steve harrington chose the wrong moment and one time he got it right (series masterlist)

warnings: mentions of underage drinking (all characters are 18+ but this is set in america lol) & also very minor references to smut

a/n: thank you so much for all the love on this series!! also massive apologies for the delay, i had massive writers' block and work was wiping me out :') still, i hope you enjoy. only three more wrong moments to go. - jazz

Steve Harrington hadn’t expected to spend New Years’ Eve of 1986 in a nightclub in Manhattan. 

To be honest, he hadn’t even expected to be here. 

Neither had you. And you didn’t even know of his whereabouts yet.

He’d been…lonely, after Christmas. Actually, he’d been lonely since the moment you left. Steve had known Hawkins before you and he’d known Hawkins with you but he had never prepared himself for Hawkins without you. Even when you called everyday and wrote letters every other week, there was still a gaping, you-sized hole in his life. Pictures of you hung up around his room; Polaroids and photo booth strips that dated back to the late seventies; records you’d brought him and drawn him; the silly, dumb notes you used to pass to each other in class. It wasn’t until you left that Steve realised his entire life was basically a shrine to you. 

Christmas was great. Seeing you was great. It had been nothing but hugs and smiles and warmth for a week straight. The celebrations came and went and before he knew it, Steve was dropping you off the airport and hugging you goodbye. It stung a little less this time, know that he knew what to expect in the aftermath, but coming back to an empty house had killed him inside. 

So, Steve started driving. And he kept driving until he reached the night club that he knew you’d be at. Even though it took him twelve fucking hours and fifty goddamn bucks on the door because he wasn’t old enough to be in here and especially not to be drinking. It left him wondering how much you’d paid to get in. Probably not a lot - even back in Hawkins, most bouncers just let you in. Why wouldn’t they? Maybe you were a bit haywire and crazy around the edges but you were also beautiful. One look at your smile, and the way you flashed your eyes with a stupid joke? You could get in anywhere. Steve Harrington was convinced that you were insane enough to open any door in the world. And yet, you stayed at the Hideaway. Every other Friday, with him and a pint of whatever shitty beer they had going. Because even though you get into any club in town, Steve was limited to wherever the fuck Eddie Munson could sneak him in. You’d never been one to stray away from Steve’s side. 

So…yeah. Coming here had been unexpected and god, Steve hated clubbing. What was the point of a room of sweaty people and loud music? That was all he could think about as people thudded into him, one by one in time to a fucked up remix of a Queen song. He just needed to find you and then get the fuck out of here. He had nothing planned in terms of a speech, or even the faintest idea of what he was going to say. He just wanted to see you. That was all. 

“Hey, man! What where the fuck you’re going!”

A sharp elbow came into contact with Steve’s ribs, and he turned around to see you. There was a scowl on face, then a look of disbelief, and before he knew it, you’d almost tackled him to the ground in a hug. 

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Steve hit the ground with an oof, breaking your fall with his own body. “I just missed you.”

You grinned. “I missed you too. How did you even know where I’d be?”

“You mentioned this club a few times last week. Sorry for just turning up-”

“- never apologise,” you cut him off. Stumbling up, you shoved aside a few dancers and stuck out your hand to help him up. “I’m happy to see you.”

You pulled Steve into another hug, hands balling up into the back of his shirt as you did. Steve had always given the best hugs. For as long as you could remember, all your problems could be fixed with a hug from him. Bad grades, shitty boys, fights with your parents. They were all menial, but even now, after a few months in the big city, you were certain they could fix bigger ones too. 

“C’mon, Steve,” you took his hand in yours. “Let’s talk properly outside. Yelling over this music is gonna kill me.”

Keeping his hand in yours, you pulled Steve across the club and towards the smoking area on the other side. It was amazing, really, the way you could just shove people aside with your elbows and a glare. You’d put the fear of God and/or yourself into him multiple times, so Steve couldn’t be surprised. 

The smoking area wasn’t as busy as the rest of the club. There were a few stragglers standing around - some with tobacco, some smoking something a little stronger. On the other side, a drunk girl was throwing up. You didn’t seem phased at all. Maybe you came to places like this often. Even though Steve had never known you to enjoy big crowds or loud music. 

“So, what do you wanna do?” Steve asked. “I saw a couple pizza places down the road. Maybe we could grab some food and then watch the ball drop, if you have a television-”

“- what do you mean?” you frowned. “I was gonna stay here. There’ll be a massive countdown and drinks and all my friends are inside.”

“Seriously?” he scoffed (however unintentionally). “I didn’t know you liked clubbing.”

Your face fell. “Don’t be an ass, Steve. Y’know I hate when you’re an ass.”

“Sorry,” Steve murmured. “I guess I don’t know what you enjoy doing at college. I forget it’s a different scene to Hawkins.”

“Hey, you’re good,” you smiled. “I’m just glad you’re here, okay?”

“Me too,” he returned the gesture, before glancing around the place. “So, what do you do here? Just…drink and dance?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” you shrugged. “It definitely looks awful from the outside but I promise my friends are fun. They’ve heard all about you and I’m sure you’ll love them.”

Friends. He’d heard about all your new friends; Jessica and Amanda and Tiffany and Daniel and…there were too many to remember. Steve knew that he was still your best, best friend, but it was nice to see you flourishing. It was clear they all loved you from the way their faces lit up. They gave Steve a smile too, and a it’s so nice to meet you! or a I’ve heard so much about you! 

Still though, clubbing certainly wasn’t his thing. He hadn’t expected it to be your thing either, but from the way you were throwing back shots and dancing around with your new friends, it was clear that it was. You’d shoot him a smile every few minutes, or grab him for a silly dance. All attempts to make him feel included. It wasn’t your fault that Steve had so quickly gone from excitement in seeing you to feeling like he was a sore limb. No one was doing anything to make him feel like that. Nobody but him, of course. 

It wasn’t until you approached the bar just before midnight that Steve followed you.

“Hey!” you gave him a bright smile. “Are you having fun?”

“I’m not not having fun,” he grimaced, but took your hands in his. “Look, I’m really tired and I just drove twelve hours without stopping and I really want to spend time with you tomorrow, okay? So I think I’m gonna head tonight, if you’re okay with me breaking into your apartment and crashing in your bed.”

“Oh, yeah,” your face fell a little, but you still forced a smile. “No, I get it. Take my keys, yeah? It’s the apartment building with red front door on the corner of 5th and 73rd. Apartment 48. My room is the first on the left and-”

“- it’s okay, I’ll find it,” Steve cut you off. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and gave your hands one last squeeze. “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year, Steve Harrington.”

Even though Steve had only had two pints of Budlight, he hadn’t considered that his alcohol tolerance was basically on the fucking floor. So, no driving for him. Just an obscenely overpriced yellow cab to take him a few blocks west. The streets of Manhattan weren’t exactly confusing, and maybe it was just dumb luck that your key fit into the first red door he found. Four floors up and two more doors in and that luck continued, right until he found himself managing to stumble into what he hoped and prayed was your apartment. 

It was a cozy little place that you’d rented from one of your parents’ friends. He worked in real estate in the city and quite honestly, you’d thanked your lucky fucking stars when you heard the words subsidized and rent. Maybe it was a little bare, but you’d made it your own. Steve couldn’t help but smile to himself at all the pictures of him around the room. 

Your room was just as cozy. Maybe it was a little funny that Steve’s head hit the pillow just as the fireworks outside went off - then he felt a bit bad. Had he ditched you? Maybe. But he had driven twelve hours just to unintentionally surprise you and he deserved rest. Even if you hadn’t asked that of him, even less expected it of him. Maybe he was just a little disappointed that you hadn’t wanted to spend New Years Eve sat in a pizza place with him. That was what you had done the year before. 

He fell asleep easily, the traffic outside becoming white noise. It wasn’t until a couple hours later - just gone 3AM, according to the clock on your bedside table - that you came crashing and stumbling in. Steve was woken by the sound of your shoes hitting the floor with a thud, and then a little fuck! as you stumbled out of your clothes and into a big NYU t-shirt. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” Steve suddenly sat up, barely catching you as you fell to the ground. “Why don’t you turn on the lights, genius?”

“I didn’t want to wake you,” you muttered. Were you mad? You seemed mad. 

“Hey,” he frowned. “What’s up?”

“Nothing-”

“- we both know what when you say nothing that it’s definitely not nothing,” he reminded you. “Are you gonna spit it out or am I gonna have to go through every single thing I did and said tonight before we find an answer?”

You scowled at him, knowing he was right. Steve didn’t have fifteen years of riding the fiery dragon that was your personality not to know how to humble you. 

“You said you missed me and that you came to see,” you muttered, folding your arms across your chest. 

“...and that’s why you’re mad?”

“No!” you snapped. “I’m mad because you stayed for like…all of five minutes and then left! You didn’t even try to talk to my friends or to even stay and then I had to spend the last two hours defending you whenever they pointed it out!”

“Pointed what out?!”

“That you left! That you barely spoke to them or to me-”

“- I’m sorry that clubbing isn’t my thing!” Steve cut you off, barely hiding his audible groan. “I left so you could have fun with your new friends, okay? I didn’t wanna kill the mood.”

“Steve,” you sighed. “You weren’t killing the mood. Why do you have to say things like that?”

“Because it’s true!” he huffed. “You have a life here and friends and…things have changed. And I think I’ve been left behind.”

“How?!” you demanded. “How have I left you behind?! Because I went clubbing for one fucking night instead of dropping my plans when you turned up out of the blue?!”

“Because you said that things wouldn’t change! And they have!”

“Of course things are going to change!” you yelled. “We’re growing up! I’m at college, you’re working full time! Life fucking changes, Steve!”

“What if it changes and you forget about me?”

“Oh my god,” you let out another groan. “Steve, my life does not revolve around you. I love you and you are my best friend but can’t you just appreciate what we have right now rather than worrying about what we might be?”

Steve opened his mouth to speak, but you kept going instead. 

“Maybe we won’t be friends in five years. Maybe we’ll be married with kids in ten or sharing a fucking grave in eighty but none of that matters if you just can’t appreciate what we are right now,” you continued. “Two people who love each other and-”

“- you think about us getting married?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“You literally just said it.”

“It was hypothetical-”

“- but you still said it-”

“- I also said that we might not be friends! Do you wanna bet which one is more likely to happen at the rate you’re going?”

You gave him a light thump to the chest. Steve caught your hand as it collided with him, large fingers holding your wrist. Your breath caught in your throat as he did, gaze catching his. The tension in the room had already been thick but in that moment, you couldn’t have cut it with a knife. He kept his grip on your hand, both your chests heaving with anger and frustration and rage and-

The first time you had kissed, it had been gentle. Experimental and a little toothy and maybe hungry after years and years of unpent teenage horniness, but whatever tension had built in the last three months alone made all those years look like nothing. This was desperate and deep, hands all over the other. Steve kept his palms splayed on your back, then on your neck, then on your ass, each time gripping you so tight, clinging onto you as though you might slip away if he didn’t. 

You fell back on the bed, one hand tangled in his hair and the other gripping his shirt. It was hard to register when exactly he took it off. Actually, when yours came off too, for that matter. Steve Harrington, as it turned out, was a man who consumed all your fucking senses all the fucking time. Ergo, it was hard to think about anything other than him, or what his hands were doing, or that you were finally about to go all the way with your best friend of fifteen years. 

It sort of clicked in your mind at some point that you probably should have stopped. It also registered in his mind. Still, neither of you did anything about it. You’d come this far now and it was hard to stop. Any consequences would be tomorrow’s problem. 

Happy New Year. 

taglist: @yaskna @karasong @etherealforever234 @i-bitch-you-bitch @aphex2winn @raes-gay @handsupforamiracle @palmtreesx3 @lokiofasgard616 @notahappystan @we-out-here-simping @angel-jz @suniloli @mapleransom-blog @thexplosivegirl @lou-la-lou

Absolutely the cutest thing. I love the sentiment that comes with a recent relationship and you described it perfectly! 🥰❤️😍

Everything Has Changed

Pairing: Steve Harrington x f!reader

Summary: Yesterday morning, your best friend, Steve, picked you up for work like always. This morning, Steve is picking you up for work again, but now he’s your boyfriend and everything has changed.

Inspiration: Everything Has Changed (Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran)

Word count: 2547

Warnings: One swear word

A/N: I planned to write a Peter Parker fic based on this song like 6 years ago but seasons change and fictional boyfriends come and go so here we are

Read on AO3 here!

There was nothing noticeably different to the untrained eye about the way you woke up. Your cheek was creased by your pillow as always, your eyelids still drooping slightly with sleep, your bed the same wooden frame and your pyjamas the same old shirt and shorts that they always were. The insistent beeping of your alarm clock was neither more nor less annoying than usual, the birds outside singing the same song that they had sung for years. 

And yet everything had changed.

As soon as your eyes opened to the sun pouring through the gap in your curtains, a giddy spark shot through you as you remembered what had happened eighteen hours previously. A smile spread across your face until your cheeks ached and you hugged your pillow as you replayed the conversation in your head: the conversation in which your best friend had told you he was in love with you.

Continuar lendo

One word: perfection!

What I Like About You – S.H

pairing: steve harrington x drummer!girlfriend (friends to lovers goodness)

warnings: one annoying dudebro, some curse words, other than that nothing.

an: i know i haven’t posted in a while so thank you for being patient with me while i got my shit together. i dedicate this to you💖 Enjoy and let me know if you liked it!!

❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎

“Hurry up! We’re going to miss it!” Robin calls over her shoulder as she dashes out of his parked car and towards the front door. “We probably did!”

“Wait up.” Steve says to no avail; Robin runs inside a second later, leaving him behind.

Stepping out of the car and locking the doors, Steve stuffs his hands inside his jacket pockets. Keith had them work until past 7 tonight, making them late to see Robin’s crush perform—she had a band that plays here every Friday according to Robin, sort of like Eddie’s but less metal, more Rock Pop. She’d begged Steve to drive her tonight, but had her hopes crushed when Keith didn’t let them leave an hour earlier. So here they are, one hour after showtime, and from what Steve can make out the band is still playing. The moment he steps through the door music floods his ears, and he takes notice of how packed the place is. There’s probably close to a hundred people at Annie’s 50 of which are gathered in front of the stage; Robin had stayed by the door waiting for him, or maybe just staring at the lead singer in awe. 

Continuar lendo

The cuuuutest thing!!

dead wrong — steve harrington x reader

summary: steve harrington is down horrendous for you, his best friend since he was a scrawny pre-teen. turns out, his love is not as unrequited as he thinks.

contains: best friends to lovers, mutual pining (but mostly steve pining), steve’s pov, fluff galore, idiots in love, reader is good with the kids, reader is a skater like max, reader hurts her wrist and steve is a worried lovesick idiot. cw! descriptions of wounds/blood, mentions of hospital, reader wears steve’s clothes. she/her pronouns used.

a/n: first long fic yay!! I am extremely proud of this so pls love it 🤍

fem!reader 5.3k words

gif by @barneswayne

Steve Harrington is totally, most definitely, not in love with you. Just friends, he thinks, best friends. Best friends who hold hands and sit far too close together.

Speaking of, you push further into Steve’s side, your scent washing over him. Your hand squeezes Steve’s, and he thinks, never mind. Maybe he is in love with you. So in love with you it fucking hurts.

A chorus of shouts erupts around him. You and Steve are watching Eddie, Robin and the kids play beer bong, only without the beer. It’s soda. Dustin starts doing a stupid victory dance while half of his peers laugh and the others cringe. Steve cringes. You laugh. All high and lilting and adorable. Steve has to remind himself to breathe.

He brings your joint hands to rest on his knee. Your rings push into his skin, almost like harsh reminders that he can’t hold you like he wants to. He frowns.

“Steve?” Your voice brings Steve out of his thoughts like it always does. You give his hand a shake. “You okay?”

Steve looks up and prays you can’t see the hopeless devotion in his eyes. You’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, with your messy hair and your eyes lined with glitter. Rosy cheeks, glossy pink lips that he stares a beat too long at. He’s known you for years, and yet he’s never gonna get used to how gorgeous you are. He swallows, forces his eyes up to yours.

“I’m okay,” he says, though he’s really not. He never is, because you never won’t look like that. “Are you?”

There’s another explosion of noise from the soda-pong players, but you don’t seem to notice. You frown like you don’t believe him. He’s being too obvious, he knows.

“Yeah, I’m good. Are you sure, Steve?” You stretch your free hand across your torso to touch his face. Steve heats like an oven under your hand as you press your palm to his forehead. “You’re not feeling sick, are you? You feel sort of hot.”

Steve grabs your wrist, harder than he means to. He loosens his grip guiltily when you give him an alarmed look.

“Sorry,” he says quickly, lowering your hand gently. He can feel your pulse, only just, underneath his fingers. It’s damn sure slower than his. “I— uh, no. I’m not feeling unwell. It is pretty hot in here though.”

A total lie. The only reason he’s burning up is you.

Your frown deepens, a push of your bottom lip that makes Steve want to kiss you. It’s such an overwhelming feeling that he has to blink multiple times to make it go away.

“Oh,” you say. You look around the room and then back at Steve. “Do you want to go outside?”

Steve has a bit of a dilemma. If he says yes, he’ll be alone with you. He can’t tell if that’s a good or bad thing. If he says no, he’ll have to stay in this stuffy room with yelling teenagers and ping pong balls flying at him every five seconds. He decides on the first option.

“Sure,” he says as nonchalantly as he can. Then, to make you laugh, “Smells like boy in here anyway.”

You giggle. Steve feels like copying Dustin’s lame victory dance.

“You’re a boy, Stevie,” you say teasingly.

He wrinkles his nose at you. “No, I know, but it’s like … adolescent boy.”

You laugh loud, your mouth pulled up in a staggering smile. “Oh, okay,” you say, as if anything he just said made any sense.

Steve is starstruck for a second before you’re pulling him up from his seat, your hand in his a familiar, heart-aching weight.

Steve finds himself sitting side by side with you on the hood of his car. He can’t exactly remember how he got here — on the way, all he could think about was your hand in his and the fact that your thumb kept brushing over his knuckles in very distinct lines. Whether you’d meant to or not, he doesn’t know. He hopes you did.

“Any better?” You ask quietly, stretching your pinky across the small gap between your hands to tap his.

Steve feels something like an electric shock where your skin touches his. It baffles him, how such a tiny touch can cause such a big reaction throughout his body. He stares at your hand when he answers.

“Much,” he says honestly. He looks up at you. “You didn’t have to come with me, you know. You can go back in if you want.”

Secretly he hopes you’ll stay here with him forever. But that would be selfish, and if Steve is anything when he’s with you, it’s not selfish.

“Eurgh, no.” You pull a disgusted sort of face that makes Steve grin. “I could barely stand it when you were there. Without you, I think I’d die from the smell alone.”

Steve laughs. Really laughs. The words without you, I think I’d die, float around his brain like fish in a fish tank. When he’s done laughing he catches your smile, all pretty and wide, and his heart does one of those funny backflips that he’s never gonna get used to.

Steve watches as you brace your hands on the edge of the car and push yourself up the hood, pulling your shoes up to rest on the metal. Your skirt is short enough that Steve can see half of your thighs, more when you shift yourself like that. He stares for two seconds too long and then feels so guilty he almost apologises.

Instead, he says, “Aren’t you cold?” He points at your skirt but doesn’t look.

You shrug. “No, not really.”

With a sigh you let yourself fall back against the hood of the car. Your skirt rises even more and a half inch more of your skin is exposed — Steve feels like the universe is out to get him. His only escape is to fall back next to you, his right shoulder brushing your left one. You smile when he does, head rolling to the side to look at him. Face to face now, Steve can feel every small breath coming from your parted lips.

“See any stars?” He blurts, because your face is much too close and he’s scared if you look at him like that any longer, he’ll kiss you stupid.

You look up at the dark, empty sky and wrinkle your nose. “No.”

“Wait, look, there’s one.” Steve lifts his arm to point at what he thinks is a star.

You squint in its direction. “That’s a plane.”

“What? No it’s— oh.” He trails off when he realises the ‘star’ is moving. It disappears behind a cloud a second later.

You laugh, breathless and pretty, and drop your head onto Steve’s shoulder. Your perfume fills the air around Steve and he has to stop himself from leaning closer. You bring a hand up to fiddle with your necklace, a cheap, plastic ‘S’ charm that sits directly on your sternum. The fake diamonds are falling off, half of them gone already, but you’ve refused to take it off after all these years. Steve has one of your initial, too. You got them from a dollar store when you were twelve and pinky promised to be best friends forever.

You slip your necklace safely beneath your top and then stifle a yawn behind your hand.

Steve gives your elbow a nudge. “Tired?”

You shrug one shoulder and then droop further into Steve’s side. Every point of contact between you burns.

“You’re tired,” Steve says matter-of-factly.

You make a noise that’s probably meant to be a sound of protest but comes out more like a tired moan. Steve chuckles lightly, reaches over and rubs your arm.

“Alright, sweet girl. Let’s go home.”

‘Home’ really means Steve’s house, because you’ve left your car there and because you’re over so much it’s become your second home. By the time Steve is pulling up the driveway, you’re so dead beat he doesn’t even consider letting you drive yourself home. You practically hang off his waist as he walks you both inside.

“M’tired,” you mumble as you pass the living room.

Steve has to bite back a laugh. “Uh-huh, I can tell.”

You look up at him and squint like you know he’s laughing at you. Then you say, “Can I sleep in your bed?”

Steve’s heart skips. Sure, you’ve slept in his bed before, but every time you have Steve lay awake for at least half the night. He’s not above admitting that he’s watched you sleep more than once. He’s seconds away from telling you to take the guest bedroom when you pout dramatically.

“Please? You’re so warm.” You push into his side, your arm tightening around his waist like you don’t ever want to let go.

Steve hates himself for nodding, but he can’t help it. “Yeah, okay.”

He drags you up the stairs and into his room. Your makeup and stray jewellery is strewn across his dresser — you’d gotten ready at Steve’s before the party. If you could even call it that, Steve thinks. He plants you on his bed and you fall back immediately, eyes shut tight as your hair splays across the sheets.

“You’re like a zombie,” Steve says amusedly, his gaze all fond and mushy as he looks down at you. “From like, Day of the Dead or something.”

You pull a face, faux offended but your big grin gives you away. “Ew. I’m not that ugly, am I?”

Steve hums long and high like he’s thinking about it. This makes you gasp and throw a hand to your chest like he’s wounded you. Before Steve can get half a laugh out a pillow is hitting him straight across the face.

“Hey!” He exclaims, glaring at you. You’re still lying down, eyes screwed tight like you’re pretending you didn’t just brutally attack Steve. He laughs because you’re fucking adorable. “Zombies don’t throw pillows, Y/N.”

Your words are plagued by a yawn as you say, “This one does.”

Steve sighs at your antics, picks up your murder weapon (his pillow) and replaces it on the bed.

“Oh no,” you groan suddenly, like you’ve remembered something awful, hands flying to your face in despair. “My makeup, Stevie. M’too tired to take it off.”

Your words stick to each other like taffy in your tired state. Steve remembers the last time he let you sleep in your makeup. He didn’t hear the end of it for days. He’d rather avoid your wrath this time round.

Steve sighs, knowing full well he’s about to put his foot in it. “Well, will you let me do it?”

You open one eye blearily and look at him. “Would you?”

Steve shrugs, though the thought of being that close to you makes him feel nauseous. Luckily, you’ve closed both eyes again so he can blush all he wants. Plus, he’d do anything for you. Even endure the overwhelming urge to kiss you breathless.

“Sure thing, babe. I’ll get the stuff.”

Steve ends up sitting on his bed with you across from him, crossed legs pressing up against his. You’re sitting so close you’re almost in his lap. He ignores this for the sake of his dignity.

You’ve got your eyes shut and your hair up in a clip. A lock of hair has tumbled out of its knot and Steve pushes it away from your face, fingers hooking behind your ear and lingering. He keeps his hand on your jaw as he raises his other hand, a wet cloth ready to clean your sparkly makeup off.

“You sure about this?” He asks hesitantly. He’s dead terrified he’ll do something wrong, like get glitter in your eye.

You smile softly, your eyes staying firmly shut. “Yes, Steve, it’s fine.” Your tone is half reassuring and half exasperated.

Steve bites the bullet and goes right in, pressing the wet cloth to your cheekbones first. You’ve got blush and glitter there, sprinkled on your cheeks like fairy dust. He smooths the cloth along your skin and it comes away sparkly and pink.

“Okay?” He asks, pausing worriedly.

You nod slowly, your head starting to droop in his hand. “Yeah, Steve.”

Steve grins fondly at your face, screwed up in exhaustion. He tightens his grip on your jaw to keep your head steady, thumb hooked under your chin. Carefully, he begins to dab at your eyelids, also painted with silvery glittery eyeshadow.

Your face dewy and makeup-free, Steve thinks you’ve never looked prettier. So pretty it drives him mad. He stares, really stares, for far too long but he’s worried if he opens his mouth, breaks the silence, he’ll never get to see you like this again. Your hair all messy pretty, your eyes shut and eyelashes kissing, your pink lips turned in a half smile.

He’s not surprised when your soft voice drifts into his thoughts.

“You done?” You open your eyes, eyelids heavy and head heavier.

Steve snaps out of it. He lets go of your face quickly, slides off the bed even quicker.

“All done,” he says, almost tripping over his own feet.

You smile, seemingly oblivious to his clumsiness. Or maybe, it’s just happened so often that you’re not surprised. Either way, your smile is sickeningly sweet. Steve is torn between the desire to kiss you or run as far away as possible from you.

Your voice matches your honey-smile when you say, “Thank you, Stevie.”

You reach out to touch his forearm, your hand a heavy weight on his skin as you wrap your fingers around his arm and squeeze.

He grins lopsidedly, and he’s sure he looks like a lovesick idiot but he can’t find it in himself to care. “You’re welcome.”

You drop your hand and Steve’s arm suddenly feels cold as ice. He wants to touch you again but knows he shouldn’t. He strides to his bedroom door and pauses to turn and look at you.

“I’m gonna get you a glass of water,” he says. Your eyelids are drooping again. He laughs fondly. “Get in bed while I’m gone, zombie-girl.”

Your giggle follows him all the way to the kitchen.

When Steve gets back, a glass of water in each hand, you’re still as a statue on your self-appointed side of the bed. You’ve swapped your outfit for a grey t-shirt that you totally stole from him but deny every time he asks about it, and the shortest shorts known to mankind.

He switches off the light and shuts the door with his heel. Pointedly avoiding looking at your bare legs, he rounds the bed and sets the water down, then bends over you.

“Y/N?” He whispers.

You hum softly, though Steve can’t tell if it’s a hum of acknowledgement or just a sound you’ve made in your sleep. He leans closer, listening to your breathing. You’re awake, only just.

He brushes his hand over your upper arm, touch as light as a feather. He thinks he feels goosebumps on your skin but doesn’t have time to wonder why. You’re lifting your chin slightly, lips parted.

“Goodnight, Stevie,” you whisper, so quiet he barely hears you. Steve’s heart swells. “Thanks for … everything.”

A few moments later you fall silent and your breathing grows steady, and Steve wonders how the hell you always fall asleep so fast.

He rubs your arm, kisses your forehead because he knows you won’t remember this part. His lips buzz as he pulls away. “Goodnight, sweet thing.”

-

You’re outside Family Video. Steve emerges from the back room and spots you so fast it’s like he’s got a third eye. He’s both shocked and pleased — he hadn’t expected to see you until after his shift.

You’ve got the kids with you. You and Max are zooming around the carpark on your skateboards while Dustin and Lucas are poised on the hood of your car, poring over comics.

He watches you skate with Max. Like some lame rom-com cliche, your hair is blowing in the wind and Steve swears you’ve moving in slow motion. You’re laughing and joking with Max and Steve stares and stares. Stares until Robin sidles up next to him.

“What’re you— oh.” Steve can hear the smirk in her voice even though he refuses to look at her. “What’re they doing here?”

Steve shrugs and makes an ‘I don’t know’ sound, moving to the counter to put down the box of videos he’s carrying. Robin follows.

“You’re not gonna go say hi to Y/N?” Robin asks slyly. Steve can hear in her voice what’s coming. “You’ve been staring long enough.”

Steve blushes furiously despite himself. “I wasn’t staring.”

“Oh, sure.” Robin hoists herself onto the counter, peers into the box of videos and picks one out at random. “Just like you weren’t holding her hand on Tuesday night?”

Steve can’t exactly get himself out of that one. He snatches the video from Robin with an annoyed tsk, slotting it back into the box. Her laugh is devilish.

“You are hopeless, Steven,” she says, whacking Steve over the head as she hops off the counter.

Steve rubs his head and glares at Robin. If looks could kill she’d be dead meat. “That’s not my name.”

Robin gets this look on her face that Steve knows all too well. He wants to pummel her before she’s even said anything.

“Oh, sorry,” she says, all sarcasm. “What is it, then? Stevie?”

Steve’s blood boils. Only you’re allowed to call him that.

“Y’know what, Robin?” He says loudly. He turns on his coworker, seething. She’s totally nonchalant, a stupid smirk on her lips. “Why don’t you just leave me—?”

“Steve!”

A shout of his name from the door. He turns and finds Lucas standing there, looking panicked.

Steve’s brow furrows. Then he notices you and Max are no longer whizzing around the carpark. “What—“

“Y/N fell,” Lucas says, out of breath. “We think she hurt her wrist.”

Steve’s heart drops. “Shit.”

He goes flying out the door and into the parking lot. You’re sitting on the concrete, one knee pulled up to your chest, your skateboard dormant next to you. Max is kneeling over you, and Dustin has graciously abandoned his comics for your sake.

“Y/N!” He damn near shouts. He runs over to you and Max and gets on his knees. He’s probably just ruined his jeans on the concrete — he doesn’t give a single fuck.

“Y/N,” he says frantically, a tentative hand landing on your shoulder. Both your knees are scraped something awful and a nasty gash blooms on the outside of your wrist. Steve’s worry is loud and his heartbeat twice as much. “Y/N, are you okay? What happened? What’s—“

You look up. Your eyes are shining but you’ve got a dopey smile on your lips.

“Steve,” you say breathlessly. You blink and a tear falls from your eye and over the bump of your cheek. “Hi. Good to see you.”

Steve stares at you in horror. How can you be making jokes at a time like this? You laugh wetly and Steve looks at Max, totally alarmed.

“What happened?” He demands.

Max is much calmer than he is. “She went over a bump or something,” she says. She’s rubbing your back and Steve feels a rush of gratitude for the younger girl. “Fell on her left arm. Her wrist might be sprained or broken, but—“

“Broken?” Steve repeats. He’s pretty sure his soul just left his body.

“I said might,” Max says through her teeth.

“Y/N?” Steve slides his arm around your shoulder, carefully avoiding your left wrist, which you're cradling in your uninjured hand. “Y/N, baby, can you get up?”

You make a noise like a scoff but it’s muffled by your sniffly nose. “‘Course I can.”

Steve helps you anyway, Max on your other side keeping a firm hold on your jacket. You hiss as you straighten your legs, knee-wounds sprouting fresh blood. Steve bites down on his lips so hard he almost bleeds himself.

“Are you gonna take her to the hospital?” Max asks. There’s genuine worry in her eyes that Steve barely sees. Dustin, Lucas and Robin appear, looking equally worried.

Steve puts on a brave face. “Think so. What do you think?” He asks Max. “You’re the skateboard expert.”

She grins so quick Steve almost misses it. It disappears when she looks at you in your bloody and bruised state. “Yeah. Just in case.”

Steve walks you over to your car, half dragging you. Not that you need him to, he just can’t bear for you to hurt any more than you already are. He deposits you in the passenger seat, ducks his head in to pull your seatbelt across your torso. He’s seconds from ducking back out when you stop him, your uninjured hand on his chest, right over his racing heart.

“It hurts,” you say, quiet enough that only Steve can hear. Your eyes are welling up again. Steve feels like crying himself.

“I know,” he says, nodding vigorously like it will make a difference. “I know, sweet girl. It’s gonna be fine. You’re gonna be okay.”

At this point he’s talking to himself as well as you. You nod in an exhausted sort of way and Steve presses a kiss to your cheek. Slow and soft and as close to your lips as he’s ever kissed. He has to take a few seconds to compose himself before straightening up and turning to the others.

“I gotta take her,” he says, sending an apologetic grimace in Robin’s direction.

Robin nods once and surprisingly, doesn’t say a word. She looks about as sympathetic as Steve has ever seen her. He turns to the kids.

“Help Robin,” he says. He’s trying desperately to make his voice sound normal but falling short of the mark. Everyone notices but nobody comments. “Don’t mess up the store.”

He gives a grateful smile to Max and then rounds the car, hopping in and starting the engine.

-

You’re half asleep on Steve’s couch, your head in his lap. You’re wearing his yellow sweater — the one he bought only because you’d said he’d look good in yellow. You’ve just woken up from a post-hospital nap and Steve’s hand is in your hair, brushing slow strokes over the side of your head.

He’s feeling a lot of things. Relieved, for starters. The doctor had said it was only a sprain, they’d bandaged up your wrist and you’d left the hospital in far better conditions. Steve was in far better conditions, too.

Steve looks down at you, at your bandaged wrist and the huge bandaids on your knees and thinks, fuck. He thinks his heart is about to claw its way out of his chest. He doesn’t think he can take this love thing any longer.

You stir and take a long breath, turning your head in Steve’s lap to look up at him. Your eyes are tired but you’re smiling.

“You okay?” Steve asks softly. He doesn’t want to break the silence. It feels good, to sit in silence and comfort with you. He runs his fingers through your hair again.

You nod. “Mhm. I’m good.”

“Hurting?”

You shift in his lap. “No, not right now.”

You fall silent and Steve doesn’t know what to say. He wants to tell you how worried he was about you, but you could probably tell. Anyone with a pair of eyes could tell he was nauseous-level worried. Then he thinks about telling you he loves you. It’s a stupid reason, really, but it was all because a nurse had asked if he was your boyfriend. He’d wished he could say yes.

“Steve?”

Steve hums and meets your eyes. You move to sit up and Steve helps you, knowing you won’t let him stop you. A firm hand between your shoulder blades, his palm sliding down your back as you straighten yourself. You shift so you’re facing him, your legs crossed beneath you and your injured wrist resting in your lap. Steve is careful to avoid your wounded knees.

“What is it, babe?” Steve asks quietly. He brings his hand up to caress your cheek, dragging his thumb over a spot where your tears had smudged your mascara earlier.

You melt into his hand, eyes falling shut as a long, deep sigh falls from your lips. You raise your good hand to cover his, holding it to your face. Your hand burns stars onto the back of his.

“Is it your wrist?” Steve asks. You’re acting strange. He puts it down to your injured state. “Your knees? Do you want more ice? New band-aids?”

He’s being a total worrywart, he knows, but who can blame him?

You shake your head, eyes open but cast down. “No.”

“Just feeling bad?” He asks through a frown. In a strange parallel to a couple of days ago, he lifts his free hand to press his palm to your forehead. You feel warm but not hot.

“It’s …” you start, then trail off. Both yours and Steve’s hands fall to your lap.

Steve’s concern spikes. You’ve never been one to hide anything from him. “Yeah?”

“Um, it’s … it’s silly but—“ You take a deep breath and let your eyes raise to Steve’s. You get a look on your face Steve doesn’t quite understand, but it makes his heart leap to his throat anyway. “You know today, when that nurse asked us if you were my boyfriend?”

Steve laughs embarrassedly, too loud and too sudden. So you’d been thinking about that, too. He pulls his hand away from your lap and rubs the back of his neck.

“Yeah, that was kinda weird, wasn’t it?” He says, though it wasn’t really. Almost every new person he meets thinks you’re dating him. “I was—”

“I wanted to say yes, Stevie.”

Steve stops talking abruptly, his mouth slamming shut. He hadn’t really known what he was about to say, anyway. He searches for words but all he comes up with is a garbled, “What?”

You laugh, all soft and slow and distorted by fatigue. You raise your hand to rub your neck, a mirror of Steve only a moment ago.

“I wanted to say yes,” you repeat, like it’s obvious. Even the second time, Steve doesn’t believe what he’s hearing. His chest feels like it’s on fire, worse when you say, “I want you to be my boyfriend.”

For once in his life, Steve has nothing to say. He gazes at you like you’re some sort of angel on earth. Maybe he’s dreaming. Maybe he’s in some cruel dream and he’s about to wake up with his chest aching.

“I …” Steve‘s voice catches on the words. His throat burns so he mustn’t be dreaming. He tries again. “Y-You … you do?”

He’s not even embarrassed by the stuttering. Just when he didn’t think he could be any more in love with you, you giggle. He was dead wrong. His heart grows about three sizes too big for his chest.

“Yeah, Steve,” you say, fondness smothering your fake exasperation. “Do you … do you want me to be your girlfriend?”

What Steve wants is to kiss you. He wants to kiss you til you can’t breathe and then some more after that. Silently, he takes your injured wrist in his hand and gently shifts it so it’s out of the way, resting on the couch cushions. Then he grabs your face, fingers splayed over your jaw and neck. He can feel your pulse. It’s almost as quick as his. He leans so close he can hear every breath you’re taking.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he whispers, his lips ghosting over yours. “That okay?”

You laugh a giddy, breathless laugh, surprised at his suddenness. “Please do.”

He slams his eyes shut, darts forward to kiss you and fucking misses. Your noses bump. A surprised giggle bubbles from you and Steve goes red.

“Wait, I’m sorry—“ He tries again, tilting your head to one side and angling his head to the other. This time it works perfectly, and your giggling is swallowed up by Steve’s mouth, lips fitting together like they were made for each other.

You sigh and go all melty and Steve’s heart skyrockets. It feels like everything in the world is falling into place. It’s years of longing, eternities of lingering touches and offhand compliments and longing glances all rolled into one life changing kiss. Your good hand has jumped to Steve’s chest, first bunched in the material of his t-shirt and then spreading over it, palm atop his wild heart. He thinks he might die on the spot. Or like, catch on fire or something.

Steve is losing breath but he won’t stop just yet. He drops his hands to your shoulders and pulls away a hair’s breadth. Then he dives back in for one, two, three kisses that you respond to with all the eagerness in the world. Your kisses are so lovely they make him light-headed.

When Steve pulls away (for oxygen, nothing less) you chase his lips with yours. He laughs, all fondness. He’s dizzy with love.

“Woah, hold your horses, cowboy,” he says through a woozy laugh. He’s finding it hard to speak. He barely hears himself. For all he knows, he’s talking in an alien language.

“Sorry,” you whisper, not sounding very sorry at all. “So … was that a yes?”

Steve has to laugh. He can’t help it. “Are you kidding? Yes, Y/N. That was a yes. I—“

He’s rudely interrupted by someone banging on the door. He thinks he knows who it is. Only one person he knows knocks that hard.

He sighs morosely but he can’t keep the grin off his face for very long. “I’ll get it.”

He heaves himself off the couch and makes for the front door. You stop him before he gets very far, a hand in his bicep.

“Wait, Steve.”

Steve turns, puzzled. “Yeah?”

You’re lifting your chin up, lips parted. Steve knows exactly what you want.

His grin grows impossibly wider as he bends at the waist to kiss you once, chaste and slow and just as perfect as the kisses shared moments ago. When he pulls away you’re smiling so big he’s worried you’ll get stuck like that forever. He wouldn’t mind.

Another round of banging from the door. Steve sighs, squeezes your good shoulder once and then marches to the front door, just about ready to kick the intruder off his front porch. He opens the door and finds his suspicions were correct. It’s Dustin.

He’s holding a handful of flowers that look suspiciously similar to the ones that grow in Steve’s mom’s garden.

“Those for me?” Steve asks. He shoots his arm out to stop Dustin from barging in, hand gripping the door frame.

Dustin pulls a face. “Ew. No, they’re for Y/N.” He steps aside and more kids appear, plus Robin and Eddie. Eddie’s van has been parked haphazardly in Steve’s driveway. “Can we come in or are you gonna stand there and guard the door like that all night?”

“She’s tired.”

“But we bought chocolates.”

“Well—“

“Dustin?” You call from the living room. Oh, great. Now Steve’s gonna have to let them in. “S’that you?”

Dustin beams and gives Steve an expectant look. Steve drops his arm with a defeated sigh and Dustin goes marching in like he owns the place. Max, Lucas and even Mike follow. Mike, who never shows up to anything. Though Steve shouldn’t be surprised. You’re Mike’s favourite, out of the older ones.

Eddie comes next, then Robin, who stops to give Steve a grimace.

“Sorry,” she says wryly. “They really wanted to see her.”

Steve shrugs good-naturedly. He’s on cloud nine and much too happy to care all that much. He follows Robin into the living room and finds everyone crowded around you, Max on your side and Dustin getting down on one knee to present you the probably-stolen flowers like you’re the Queen of England. You look the same as Steve feels — kiss bitten and with your head in another world. But you’re pleased by the company, he can tell.

Dustin moves to give you one of his bone-crushing hugs and Steve goes all panic mode.

“Please be careful with her!” He says urgently, his panic obvious under the usual demanding tone he takes with the kids.

But you’re laughing under Dustin’s hug, and Steve can’t stay mad when you look like that. You meet his eyes over a mop of curly hair and your gaze goes all mushy and sweet. Steve’s legs feel like jelly. If he keeled over dead right now, he wouldn’t be surprised.

He’s sure someone will see but he doesn’t really care. Grinning from ear to ear, he mouths, “Love you.”

He’s said it before, of course he has, you’re his best friend in the whole entire world. This time though, it’s all the more different. It’s better. You flush, oblivious to the noisy chatter around you.

“Love you too,” you mouth back.

Steve can’t stop smiling for the rest of the night.

thank you for reading! feedback is appreciated!! reblog this and I’ll kiss you on the mouth mwah

Steve is so dumb, I love him.

Matt is an ass! Y/n deserves better.

Do you plan in make a part 2? If yes, can I be tagged, please? Can't wait to see Steve all worried about y/n

I'm Not The Only One

Summary: You and Steve hate each other. He sees your boyfriend cheat on you. Will you believe him?

Word Count: 2316

Note: Not revised. This was an idea I got while listening to Sam Smith.

Your best friend was Eddie Munson and he had introduced you to the group when you moved back to Hawkins the summer after he graduated. Eddie spent so much time with his friends, especially Dustin that you grew close to him as well. You assume this is where the hatred from Steve started.

Steve would often hear your name so much it started to piss him off. First it was simple things such as Max or Nancy skipping out on group hangouts to go to the mall or a concert with you. Then it was his two closest friends Robin and Dustin who would go to you for things instead of Steve. It started with Robin: “Sorry Steve, Y/N is actually giving me a ride” after a shift. Then came Dustin: “I’m going to ask for Y/N’s opinion” on his outfit for a school dance or a date. Steve felt he was slowly getting replaced. With his lack of parents and his growing insecurities, Steve could feel himself isolating and becoming lonely. Soon, he would start flaking on group activities too and stop offering rides to his friends. 

Everyone noticed but no one knew how to bring up Steve’s absence. He would ignore their phone calls and door visits. He would be “too busy” at work to talk to Robin about it. He would somehow always be “unloading boxes” or “doing inventory” in the backroom when the kids would appear.

The group then decided to have a little meeting to see what they should do about it. It was when you suggested that maybe you should go talk to him about it, that the group started piecing together your new presence in the group coincided with his new absence. After much bickering from both Wheelers about how this seemed like a bad idea, you decided to just do it anyway.

So here you were, knocking for a third time on Steve Harrington's door. Eddie, Dustin, Robin, Lucas, and Max decided to “hide out” in Eddie’s van across the street to watch. You could definitely see them from the front door and so would Steve if he ever answered. You started getting impatient with Steve. His car was clearly in the driveway and you could hear the sound of a tv through the door.

“Steve, I know you’re in there. I can hear you.” You shouted. “If you don’t want to answer the door, I’ll just say my piece through the door.” You waited a few seconds. No reply. “Okay then, well we’re all worried about you. If me or any of the others did something to upset you, we’d like to know so we could fix it. I offered to come and speak with you because we all agreed ever since I joined the group, you’ve been off. If I’ve offended you or hurt you, I’d like to talk about it.”

The door suddenly opens and Steve’s looking as cozy and handsome as ever. Was he always this pretty? “H-hi Ste-” Your stuttering is cut short by Steve’s glaring and stern voice.

“I don’t want to speak with you.” He looks over your shoulder and can see Eddie’s van with several heads poking through the windows. “You can tell them that too. You know, since you’re this great, amazing, wonderful person. They clearly don’t need me anymore since they have you. Miss perfect.” He scoffs.

“Stev-” You attempt to stop him to ask what the hell is going on.

“Just go. Honestly, just get out of Hawkins. Go back to wherever the hell you came from and leave us alone. More importantly, leave me alone.” And with that the door slams in your face, leaving you in a blanket of embarrassment and anger. That was the start of your hatred for Steve.

-

A few years had gone by, the kids now seniors in high school. You’d met them when they were soon to be sophomores. Steve had integrated back into the group when you dialed back on your involvement. You’d often still hang out with Max or Lucas, and of course Eddie. But you started declining solo hangouts with Robin or Dustin and sometimes Nancy. Steve didn’t want to believe or think he was only useful now that you were out of the picture, well partially, but he appreciated it. It definitely helped with the loneliness too.

Over the last two years, anytime you’d see Steve, you’d just roll your eyes and keep your snarky comments to yourself (and Eddie who’d just chuckle and shake his head). Steve wasn’t as professional as you were though. He’d “accidentally” bump into you causing you to stumble, not enough to where you’d fall or seriously hurt yourself but enough to irk you and distract from whatever task you were doing. If you are at movie nights, he’d steal the entire bowl of popcorn or take the last slice of pizza or be super obnoxious by licking the top of the soda bottle so you (or anyone else) could have some. Of course Eddie would defend your honor and tell Steve to lay off and share his snacks with you, but it started to become too much. And there was the name calling: you forgot what time a hangout was? You’re dumb. You got over excited about a new song or movie? You’re a dork. You were too scared to go into a haunted house? You’re lame. So ultimately you started pulling back from the group even more.

This led you to seek friends in other places. That’s how you met Matt. Friend turned boyfriend. You’d met while on a solo trip to the arcade. He’d noticed you were playing Pac-Man alone and offered to play with you. You’d spent the entire night playing games and shared a basket of fries and chicken tenders. After exchanging phone numbers, you’d promise to see each other again. 

A few weeks later, you’d walked hand in hand into Family Video, all smiles as you searched the racks of movies. 

“Who the hell is that?” Steve leaned his elbows onto the counter, watching you and Matt. “She’s got a boyfriend? Since when?”

“They’ve been dating for like a month, you dingus. I’d think you’d realize that since she’s been spending less time with us.” Robin laughed quietly.

“Surprised anyone would want to date her, since she’s a witch.” Steve smiled at a customer who approached the counter. As he made small talk and rang the man up, you and Matt separated so you could go talk to Robin. Matt continued to scan the shelves, finding something you both might like. 

“Hey girly,” you smiled at Robin. “How’s work?”

“Better now that you’re here.” She winked, both of you chuckling. “How are things with Matt?”

“Good, good. We’re having a movie night at his place.” You smiled and looked over to Steve. “What are you staring at?”

“Nothing, nothing.” He laughed and threw his hands up in surrender. “You know, you might like this movie here. Since you starred in it and everything.” He handed you a copy of The Wizard of Oz.

You rolled your eyes, quick to respond. “You’re in it too ya know? You must have made a lot of money playing three roles. No heart, no brain, and a coward. I guess it didn’t take much to play those roles.”

“She got you there, Steve.” Robin laughed. 

“Matt, I’m going to wait outside.” You called.

“Okay babe, I’m almost done choosing.” He smiled, grabbing a copy of Grease. “Hey man, just this one.” He handed it to Steve.

“Sure thing.” He sighed and rang Matt up. Steve watched as Matt made his way out to you, throwing an arm around your shoulders and walking to his car. Steve scowled while Robin snickered. “What’s funny?”

“Oh dude, you’re so jealous.” Robin hopped onto the counter. “You like Y/N.”

“Absolutely not.” Steve faked a gag. “She’s the worst.”

“Why do you hate her so much? She literally never did anything.” Robin kicked Steve’s hip with her foot.

“She tried to replace me!” He argued.

“She did not. She had just moved here and her only friend was Eddie. She just wanted to make friends. You,” She kicked his butt cheek as he turned to leave from behind the counter. “Got jealous and blew up on her.”

“Did not.”

“Did too. And now you like her.” Robin hopped off the counter. “You try to hide it by being mean to her but you really like her.” She starts to make kissing noises. “You’re such a cliche Harrington.”

“Am not.” He tosses a rag toward her. “And I don’t like her.”

_

To say this night was a mess was a huge understatement. Not only had Steve’s comments actually hurt, but Matt was acting completely like Danny Zuko. You’d been watching Grease on his couch, snuggled under a blanket, when he tried to pull a move like Danny did to Sandy. You’d declined because you wanted to just watch the movie but he insisted. Then he made you feel guilty about not kissing him yet. You hadn’t had a serious kiss before and wanted to wait a bit. Your first kiss was with Eddie, a friendship pact to kiss each other and get it over with before you both turned 18. It was not good and you’d both laughed while it was happening. Now that you were looking to get serious with someone, you wanted a good first kiss redo.

The night had ended abruptly after you rushed off the couch and told Matt you’d see him later. You promised to call him when you got home. That call was not answered on his end. 

You tried calling him several times over the weekend but they all went unanswered. Had you messed up? No, he messed up. He was the one behaving like an idiot. You decided you’d go to his house and squash this entire thing Monday night after your morning shift.

What you hadn’t known was that he’d been preoccupied all weekend with his ex girlfriend Annalise. 

-

“You’re just trying to hurt Y/N. That didn’t happen Steve. It’s not funny.” Robin rolled her eyes. 

“I’m not Robin! I saw him. He had his arm wrapped around this girl that was not Y/N!” Steve followed her around the store as she reshelved returned tapes. “His tongue was down her throat. I swear.”

“How do you even know it was Matt?” She turned to face him, jumping when she realized just how close he was.

“He had on that stupid sweater vest and that lame haircut. I know it was him. Now you have to call Y/N and tell her.” He urged. 

“Why don’t you call and tell her yourself?” Robin shrugged. “You actually saw them.”

“She’ll believe you. She’ll never trust my word.” Steve pleaded. “Please, you have to tell her.” He grabbed the movie from her. “Please.” He whispered.

“I love Y/N but Steve, I didn’t see it and I don’t want to speak about something I don’t know about. Maybe ask Eddie to talk to her.” Robin snatched the movie back from Steve.

“If I tell Eddie, we’ll both be forced to kick this guy’s ass. I’d like to avoid going to jail for murder.” Steve sighed. “Please just talk to Y/N.”

“Talk to me about what?” Your voice carried across the store as their heads snapped to the door. The bell above the door definitely needed to be fixed. How did they not hear you come in? “Cat got your tongue?” You laughed and approached the counter.

“I was just telling Robin that you forgot to return Grease. It was due yesterday.” Steve muttered. 

“Actually, it’s under Matt’s name. So he forgot to return it. You can give him a call.” You shrugged. “Not sure if he’ll  answer the phone though.” You sighed.

“Well, what brings you in?” Steve asked nervously. There was no normal tone of annoyance or snarkiness laced in his words. You raised an eyebrow.

“Was just looking to speak to Robin actually. Girl problems.” You turn to look for her but she’s nowhere to be found. “Robin? Where’d she go?”

Steve’s just as clueless as you. He clears his throat and steps behind the counter. “So, um… how are things?”

“How are things?” You chuckle. “Why do you care?”

“I’m just trying to make small talk to fill in the awkwardness of this interaction.” He replies honestly. “How’s Matt?”

“I don’t know.” You lean against the counter. “He hasn’t been answering my calls. We kind of had a weird thing happen Friday night. That’s what I came by to ask Robin ab-”

“He’s cheating on you.” Steve blurts.

Your body tenses and you lean off the counter. “What?”

“He’s cheating. I saw him with another girl.”

“That’s not funny, Steve.” You glare at him, eyes narrowing. “You’re always so mean but this is super hurtful.”

“I’m not making a joke Y/N. I saw him!” He steps out from behind the counter as you start to back away. “I wanted to tell you but I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Who else knows? Who else was there?” You ask quietly, tears springing into your eyes.

“Just me.” He sighs. “I was grabbing food after work when I saw-”

“When? What day?” 

“Friday night. I thought it wasn’t him because he should’ve been with you.” He steps forward. “But he was wearing that vest with the diamond pattern. The green one. That’s how I remembered him.”

Suddenly, unfortunately, the bell signaling a new customer went off. Both you and Steve jumped at the sound, looking to the door.

“Welcome to Family Video!” Robin shouted as she entered from the back room. Her eyes flickered between Steve and you. You had to get out of there. And you did. Running as fast as possible back to your car. 

Absolutely amazing! I don't have words to describe how great this was! ❤️🤌

the barber predicament— s. harrington

pairings: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 3.6k

synopsis: when steve complains that he can’t find a new barber after his old one retired, eddie recommends you; an old friend of his that’s a stylist. and you seem to know the way right to steve’s heart-through his hair. based on this request.

warnings: reader and eddie are besties, brief mention of eddie and max’s shitty childhoods, probably incorrect depictions on what it’s like to be a hair stylist, FLUFF to the max and terrible writing

a/n: I really really don’t like how this came out but I loved to request so much that I forced myself to finish it. everything I know I about being a hair stylist is from getting my hair done so much and from tiktok, so I tried to keep the details I wasn’t sure of vague. I apologize if anything is wrong, please let me know if it is. also I completely guessed on how much hairciuts were in the 80's so sorry if thats wrong too. otherwise, like always, i’d love any feedback you guys give me

masterlist

“Steve, I sympathize with you, I really do, but if I have to listen to you complain that you can’t find a barber for another second, I will tell Keith that you’ve been letting pretty girls get away with their late return fees.”

Steve’s jaw fell open, staring dumbfounded at Robin. “W-well, excuse me,” He stuttered, offended. “For wanting to confide in my best friend about my troubles. Truly, Robin, I don’t know why I assumed you’d be supportive.”

The blonde rolled her eyes, shaking her head lightly at her friends dramatics. “I was supportive up until the fourth time you talked about it. What’s the big deal, anyways?” She asked. “There’s like 3 different barbers in town. Go to one of them.”

Steve stared at her incredulously, as if she’d just told him to shave his head. “Are you being serious? Do you know me at all?”

Robin sighed, pulling the bin of returned movies out from under the counter. “Yes, Steve, in fact I do. I know that your hair is weirdly important to you. But what do you expect me to do about the fact that you won’t trust any of the barbers in town?” She asked, organizing the movies by genre on the rolling cart next to her.

“You looking for a barber, Harrington?” The additional voice caused the two Family Video employees to jump, looking over to see Eddie leaning on the counter casually.

Recovering from the startle, Steve nodded skeptically. “Yeah, I am. Why, you have someone you know?”

Eddie nodded with a grin. “Indeed I do. This girl that graduated the first time I was supposed to. She was in Hellfire. Went to school for hair and everything. Even does mine on occasion for a discount.”

Steve’s eyes shot up to his hairline, head nodding slowly. “Right.” He said, drawing out the vowel. “Well, listen, Munson. I mean no offense when I say this, but I don’t know if I trust someone with my hair that leaves you looking like that.” He explained, gesturing to the other boys head.

Eddie looked at him blankly. “Offense taken.” He deadpanned. “You think I want my hair like this simply for convenience?”

Both Steve and Robin stayed silent, giving Eddie knowing looks instead. He sighed in defeat. “Okay, fine, that’s partially why. But, I also have to give credit to my ultimate role model, Kirk Hammett.” He grinned.

He received blank looks from his friends and the metal head threw his arms up in exasperation. “Really? Kirk Hammett? Lead guitarist of Metallica? Nothing? Why am I friends with you guys?”

Before either of them could respond with a witty remark, Max came skipping up to the counter with two movies in her hands, throwing them down onto the counter. “I’m ready.”

“2 movies?” Eddie glared at the redhead. “Really, Maxine?”

Eddie and Max had a very odd brother sister relationship that was built almost entirely on a consistent basis of bickering and shoving each other around. Still, they looked out for one another, and Eddie felt responsible for making sure the little bit of Max’s childhood that was left was positive. Which he did so in different ways, including bringing her to rent movies for their movie nights.

“Yes, 2. Because you still owe me for the last movie night you forgot about.” She spit back. Eddie gritted his teeth, sliding over the correct amount of money to Steve for the movies.

“As I was saying,” He sent the redhead one last glare. “Even though my hair is convenient for my lifestyle, I ask for it to look a certain way to resemble someone I look up to. She’s the only one who’s ever gotten it to how I want.” Eddie told Steve, snatching a pad of sticky notes and a pen from behind the register.

He scribbled down a series of numbers before sliding it back. “That’s the number for the salon she works at. Give her a call. If you want.”

-

You were on your lunch break when the call came in. On a Wednesday, there was no need to have many stylists in the salon at once. Most appointments and walk ins would happen in the afternoon and as a younger stylist you were more often than not told to come in during the day for walk ins. The other women in the salon were older, more experienced stylists that didn’t need the extra cash you normally got for the services.

The food on your fork was midway to your mouth when the phone rang and you let it fall back onto your plate with a sigh.

“Thanks for calling Hawkins #1 hair salon, how can I help you?” The slogan spewed from your lips like a broken record.

“Uh..hi.” You straightened at the deep voice that came from the phone. Of course, you had men in the salon, usually though just to wait for their wives or kids to get their hair cut. There was the occasional male client, but most went to the local barbers and wouldn’t be caught dead getting their hair done in your salon. As if getting a haircut from a woman made them more feminine.

“Hello!” You chirped. “How can I help you today?”

The man on the other line hesitated for a second. “I’d like to book a haircut? With, um…Y/N.”

You perked up at the sound of your own name, a bashful smile appearing on your lips. Someone had recommended you?

“That would be me.” You chuckled. “Can I ask who referred you?”

The nameless man gave you a polite laugh, the deep timbre of the sound sending a warmth to your cheeks. “Uh, yeah. Eddie? Eddie Munson? He said you guys were friends in high school. Said you were good at what you do.”

The kind words certainly did nothing to quell the heat in your skin, but you still beamed at the mention of your friend. “Yeah, Eddie, of course. I’ll have to give him a discount the next time he comes in.” You joked. In all seriousness, you already didn’t charge Eddie the normal amount that you did for haircuts, fully aware of his financial situation. “But, yeah, I can put you in for a haircut. What day were you hoping to come in?”

“Is tomorrow okay? It’s my only day off.”

You opened up the binder that kept track of all appointments, making sure there were openings for the next day. “Yeah, it says here I have an opening at 10am and another at 1. Either of those sound good?”

The line went silent for a second too long, and you have a feeling the man nodded before remembering he was on the phone. “1pm would be great, thanks.”

You grabbed a pen and crossed out the 1pm slot. “Awesome. What’s the name I can put down for you?”

“Steve. Steve Harrington.”

-

Steve was irrationally nervous for his haircut. Never mind the fact that he was risking, in his opinion, his best feature, but the thought of meeting you was annoyingly nerve wracking. The way your voice sounded over the phone was borderline angelic, and he could only imagine what kind of beauty you radiated in real life. Not to mention, you and him briefly walked the halls of Hawkins High at the same time, and he wondered if you were aware of his reputation back then. He couldn’t recall your presence, but then again, he had his head so far up his own ass that he didn’t recognize most people from high school.

He was so antsy that morning that he was ready to go by 11, leaving him to pace and try to find little things to keep himself busy. The second it hit 12:50, Steve was sprinting out the door, making it to the salon in a record 5 minutes.

The bell above the door rang as soon as he stepped in, alerting the few stylists and customers that were there of his presence. One of the stylists, an older, heavier set woman took a glance at him as she blow dried her client.

“Y/N!” She called towards the back of the salon. “Your 1 o’clock is here!”

A second later, a woman stepped out, who he could only assume was you. You emerged from a beaded curtain, a sight to behold. Steve felt his breath hitch and he tried to wipe the sweat from his hands on his jeans.

You weren’t doing much better. Of course you knew who Steve Harrington was. He’d been a year younger than you, but he’d quickly climbed the social ladder in school. Every party was a big deal when it was held at Steve’s house and if you were friends with him, you were automatically cool.

You hadn’t cared much about the social aspect of school, focusing only on passing your classes and playing DnD. It’s where you met Eddie, who had easily become your best friend. It had been upsetting when you found out he wouldn’t be walking the stage with you, but you’d been supportive of him ever since.

And like every girl, you’d had a crush on Steve Harrington. How could you not? He was a total dreamboat and you’d be crazy not to find him attractive. You’d always been able to push that desire to the back burner, considering your best friend was continuously labeled as The Freak and you certainly didn’t gain any popularity by being associated with him.

When Eddie told you that he’d befriended the former King of Hawkins High, you truly believed he was fucking with you. But he claimed that the man had changed; matured. He told you that Steve’s best friends were a senior girl who Eddie knew band from marching band and a freshman that was in Hellfire. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious about this new man Steve Harrington had apparently become.

Oh, and that crush you had? Definitely still there. That much was evident by the dryness of your mouth that occurred the moment you laid eyes on Steve.

He was even more handsome than you remembered. Long legs clad in light blue Levi’s, polo shirt fitted nicely to his toned chest and big brown eyes looking back at you with an expression you couldn’t read.

Steve wished he remembered you. He couldn’t help but wonder if things had been different, would he have noticed you? He wanted to kick himself for not having. You were probably the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, and he realized now that describing you as angelic didn’t do you justice. You were ethereal–otherworldly.

He could see why you and Eddie were friends. Your outfit was mainly made up of black articles with a few splashes of color here and there. Your makeup was dark, creating a contract between the black eyeliner and the color of your iris’s. You were stunning, to say the least.

“Hi!” You exclaimed breathlessly. The sound of your voice broke Steve from his jumble of thoughts, only making his brain fizzle further. Your voice was even sweeter in person. “Steve, right?” You asked, though you knew the answer.

Steve cleared his throat, nodding. “Yeah, that’s me. You’re Y/N?”

You grinned so brightly it nearly made Steve’s heart stop in his chest. “That would be me. You can come sit at my station.” You said, patting the chair you’d stopped at.

He obeyed silently, taking a seat in the chair. You had to crank the lever a few times, lowering the height of the chair to accommodate for his large stature. You tried not to focus on the intoxicating smell of his cologne and he tried not to focus on your hands taking through his hair.

“So, what were we thinking of doing to your hair?” You asked, leaning your arms on the back of the chair.

Steve made eye contact with you through the mirror and hoped you couldn’t tell how red his cheeks were, because he definitely could. “Um, I was hoping to keep most of the length. Shorter on the sides, longer in the front?” He was really just spitting out words, hoping they made sense. Honestly, he was finding it difficult to focus on your question when he felt your fingertips on his scalp.

“So..we’re thinking Swayze but longer?” Steve’s jaw fell slack, staring at you in awe as you put his thoughts into words with incredible ease. You really did know what you were doing.

“Yeah, exactly.” He responded quietly, a little stunned.

You sent him that brilliant smile once again. “Cool.” You stared thoughtfully at his reflection, head tilted to the side. “Can I-could I suggest something? And you can totally say no, but I personally think it would look really good.”

Steve thought that you could ask him to commit arson and he’d say yes. “‘Course. What is it?”

You pulled a couple of strands around his face, trying to visualize your idea. “How would you feel about getting a little bit of highlights?”

His eyebrow cocked in questioning. “Highlights? Don’t only chicks get those?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes a bit, and Steve’s stomach immediately dropped. He fucked up, he offended you, he–

“No, silly. There’s actually a lot of actors recently that have been getting them. It wouldn’t be any drastic, just a few streaks that would be a shade or two lighter than your natural color. I think it would compliment your skin tone, bring out your eyes.”

The boy found himself nodding before he really considered what you were telling him. “Yeah,” He blurted, realizing he had yet to give you a verbal response. “If you think so. I trust you.”

“Great.” You laughed. “I’ll get you mixed up.”

Steve didn’t know what that meant, but he did know that his haircut had now upgraded to a lengthier process, and he was just happy to have a reason to be around you longer.

As promised, you came back out a couple minutes later, using a brush that looked like a big fork and mixing up a gooey mixture in a bowl. You were quick to start slathering the light purple substance in his hair, carefully applying it to chunks that you had placed over a piece of foil. Each section was enclosed and folded into a little square.

“So what brings you to me? I know you said Eddie referred you, but guys aren’t usually very willing to go to a stylist rather than a barber.” You said.

Steve shrugged a little. “I had a barber before, but he retired and moved out of Hawkins. He’s the only one that’s ever gotten my hair exactly how I want it.” He blushed, reluctant to reveal the reason he’d agreed to be there. “My hair is kinda important to me, I didn’t wanna go to just any barber and risk them fucking it up. Eddie said you were great and I really just needed a haircut.” He explained.

You nodded understandingly, finishing up the last couple sections of his highlights. “I get that. Hair has always been really important to me too. Obviously.” You gestured around you. Steve laughed and you felt the sound bring a warmth to your chest. “It’s always been the easiest way besides my clothes to express myself. And it’s nice to have control over something as an adult when so much is out of your control.”

Your eyes met in the mirror once again, his big doe eyes staring deep into your soul with an understanding that only came from shared experiences. You didn’t know much about Steve’s home life, only what you’d heard during school. His parents were loaded but were often never home. As a teenager, that’s the best thing that could happen to you, but as an adult, you saw how that could get pretty lonely.

The time passed by far too quickly for either of your tastes. You and Steve hadn’t even noticed the time flying so quickly as you talked about anything and everything. It was crazy to think that this man, this sweet, charismatic, beautiful man, used to be a douchebag in high school.

Steve was in heaven as you washed his hair, not even bothering to hide his bliss as your fingers massaged the hair products into his scalp. He could die happy right now, he was sure of it. You held back a giggle as his eyes closed and a convent hum came from his throat. Not wanting to embarrass him, you refrained from commenting and continued your routine.

After a few cycles of shampooing and rinsing and conditioning and rinsing until Steve’s hair was clean and silky smooth, you shut the water off and gathered his hair in a little towel.

“Okay, all done. I’m just gonna blow dry your hair, style it a bit and you’ll be all set.” Steve couldn’t help the frown that appeared, not wanting your time together to end.

It seemed like you read his mind, commenting as you dragged a hairbrush through his brunette locks. “If you’re happy with how your hair came out, you can always come back for trims, o-or touch ups on your highlights.” You stuttered, smiling sheepishly and silently praying that he couldn’t tell how desperate you were to see him again.

“Yeah?” He asked. You nodded, biting your lip shyly as you refocused on his hair. You sat in a forced but comfortable silence as you blowdried his hair. Once it was all nice and fluffy, he watched as you poured a series of liquids into your palm, raking them through his hair. You messed with the strands for another few minutes, doing stuff he didn’t understand but somehow styling his hair exactly how he likes it.

He had to admit, you were definitely right about the highlights. They brought a brightness to his complexion that hadn’t been there before. He felt like he looked younger somehow, which was surprising, considering the kids he always hung around with made him feel like he was pushing 80 sometimes. He told you as such, reveling in the sweet sound of your laughter.

“Well, that’s my job. Just glad you trusted little ol’ me with your most prized possession.” The words came out teasingly. Steve grinned back at you through the mirror, shrugging slightly.

“Guess I owe Munson, huh?”

You agreed, guiding him back to the front to check him out. You typed something into the register at the counter. “Your total is gonna be $10.”

Steve’s eyebrows almost touched his forehead. “That’s it? For the haircut and the highlights?”

“Yeah, it’s with a discount. You are Eddie’s friend after all.” You were almost charging him just for the haircut, and Steve was not having it.

He frantically shook his head in protest. “No, no, Y/N. You don’t have to do that. I can pay you the full price, trust me.”

“Steve,” You chuckled, “It’s okay. I don’t give out many friends and family discounts, it’s not like I’m losing all that much money.”

He cocked an eyebrow at you challengingly. “Oh yeah? How much is the full price for highlights.”

You poked the inside of your cheek with your tongue, reluctantly mumbling out the price, which was much larger than what you were asking. “Absolutely not. Charge me the right amount.” Steve was not about to leave and let you basically have a free service. Not when you worked so hard.

“I’ll just tip you the rest if you don’t.” He smirked, eyes peering at you fondly when you sighed in exasperation.

“It’s seriously fine. I offered the extra service, you don’t have to pay for it.”

A lightbulb lit up in Steve’s head, eyes shining at the obvious opportunity. He’d be an idiot not to take it.

“Fine.” He sighed dramatically. “At least let me do something to pay you back for it. A service for a service, huh? What do you say?”

The corners of your mouth tilted up, betraying your efforts to keep a serious face. Steve was clearly not backing down. “Okay. What’d you have in mind?”

A pink rose to Steve’s freckled cheeks. “Let me take you on a date?”

Your breath hitched. You certainly felt the tension between the two of you ever since he walked in, but you really weren’t expecting anything to come from it.

Steve took your silence as a negative reaction. “Or-I could do anything else. Doesn’t have to be a date, really. I could buy you lunch one day or-“

“I’d love to.” His big brown eyes snapped up to meet your in surprise.

“Really?”

You nodded gleefully, unable to keep your grin from growing. You could feel your cheeks beginning to ache with how much you were smiling.

“Okay.” He whispered, ducking his head bashfully. Steve quickly pulled his wallet out, handing you the 10 dollar bill.

It took less than a minute for you to input his money in, ripping the receipt that printed it. Before you could hand it to him, you grabbed a pen and scribbled something on it.

“My house number. Give me a call?” You asked in a hopeful tone.

“Definitely.” Steve grinned and you repressed the urge to swoon. He sent you a cute little wave, leaving you in the salon smiling like an fool. As soon as he was out the door, your fellow stylists squealed, crowding around you and demanding details.

Steve faintly heard the high pitched noise, smirking to himself. Sliding into the drivers seat of his BMW, he sighed happily. “Yeah, I definitely owe Munson.”

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strike throughs means tumblr wont let me tag you :(

add yourself to my taglist!

I loved it with all my heart! I have a long-distance relationship and sometimes things get really hard to deal with. I love how you wrote the angst and they meeting again and Steve crying because y/n was there with him... Omg, that was amazing!

😍❤️

Hearts on the Telephone Line | Steve Harrington

》 PAIRING: steve harrington x female!reader

》 TROPE/GENRE: established relationship; hurt/comfort; mild angst; fluff

》 REQUESTED: yes by @sheisjoeschateau​ !

》 SUMMARY: You thought Steve was okay dealing with a long-distance relationship after you moved for an exciting internship in New York. But you were proven so wrong when your boyfriend finally poured his feelings over the phone. Because distance wasn’t making his heart grow fonder, it was breaking it.

》 WARNINGS: slight canon divergence (everyone’s okay, alive & they won bc i said so), shitty internship, this thing called adulting, annoying roommate/cousin, pet names (baby, sweetheart, my love), sad!steve :( & soft!steve <3, lot’s of ‘missing you’ angst, separation anxiety (kinda?), mentions of: nightmares & near death experiences in the upside down; so. much. crying (both happy and…not so much), fluffy ending.

》 WORD COUNT: 8k+

A/N: hello hello! another steve fic hah i’m in too deep. this is also another supposed blurb turned into a whole long ass one shot bc it’s me, hi 😭 but anyways, i hope you guys enjoy this one!

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ STEVE HARRINGTON MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩  

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

You deeply sighed in relief as you closed the apartment door, pressing your back against it with a soft thud.

To say you were tired was an understatement.

Running countless errands—personal ones, to be specific—for your boss was a task and a half all on its own. Now, doing it in your ’office uniform’ that wasn’t of your choosing, one that consisted of an itchy, frilly, long-sleeved blouse tucked into an uncomfortable, pleated, long skirt and some kitten heels?

It felt like you’d just gone through hell and back.

Continuar lendo

"He still remembered it clear as day, even though it had been in first grade. You'd thrown a Lego brick at his head and stuffed sand in his mouth"

Omg 🤣🤣 an awesome way to start a friendship 🤣🤣

"You'd liked him when he dated Nancy. Then by the time they'd broken up, you were hooking up with the Dungeons and Dragons kid who had been held back two years."

Eddieeeeee, hi!

Steve and y/n kissed, omgggg. But why when y/n is going to other place?? Steeve, why you didn't something before?? Omg, the ending was sad and frustrating 😭 can't wait for the next chapters. Can I please be added to the tag list? I'm loving your writing! ❤️

timing's a bitch (s.h) - 1/5

s u m m e r ' 8 6

"if you have chemistry, you only need one other thing...timing. but timing is a bitch" - how i met your mother

a.k.a the four times that steve harrington chose the wrong moment and one time he got it right (series masterlist)

You made Steve Harrington cry the first time you met him.

He still remembered it clear as day, even though it had been in first grade. You'd thrown a Lego brick at his head and stuffed sand in his mouth, promising that if he ever touched your pet worm again (his name was Sherm, if you were wondering) that he would pay. After some negotiation and charm from his part - and the promise that he wouldn't make his parents call yours - you had become best friends. You brought balance to one another's lives, even from a young age. Steve was always a little more calculated and thoughtful in his actions, sticking to the sidelines at playtime and always worrying about his hair. You, meanwhile, had always run headfirst into danger, with scrapes on your knees and glue in your hair. Ying and yang.

You never left Steve's side and he never left yours. Things came close when the popularity really got to his ego in sophomore year, but it was nothing a whack across the head couldn't fix. The threat of telling every person at Hawkins High about his Farah Fawcett hairspray secret also very quickly humbled him. He owed you a lot of apologies after that phase.

Things were better than ever by the time graduation rolled around. It hadn't really hit either of you that this was it; that Hawkins High would no longer be your world. It was scarier for you than it was for Steve because he knew deep down that he had probably peaked in high school. He had no college lined up; while you'd gone and gotten yourself a full scholarship to NYU, all he'd done was argue with his parents about his grades and why they wouldn't foot the bill for him to follow you to the city. The world was about to become bigger and scarier. The prospect of you being thousands of miles away only made it worst.

"Just one year," Steve begged, "just take one year out. The new mall is gonna be hiring loads of people and you can save up a butt ton before you go to college-"

"- I am not taking a year out, Steve!" you exclaimed. Reaching across the center console, you gave his chest a whack. "I worked my ass off the last four years so that I have enough money to go now."

"Okay, don't think about money then. Think about..."

He paused, trailing off.

"Think about what?"

"Spending time with me before I go?" he meekly asked. "We can have loads of fun! Just me and you, y'know, having one final year together before you leave me forever."

You groaned. "Steve, we've had all summer together. Also, I'm not leaving you! I'll be home literally every few weeks."

He forced a smile, eyes focusing on the road ahead. This was his last two days with you before you moved and he didn't want to spend it being sad. It was just that his heart ached in a way he never thought it would. A thousand times more than when his parents didn't show for graduation; even more than when Nancy Wheeler left him.

Steve's glance flickered over to the photo tucked away into his rearview mirror. It was a Polaroid taken over the summer; you and Steve were stood between your parents, armed wrapped around each other as you were grinning in your caps. Maybe his parents hadn't shown for him on graduation, but yours sure had, with flowers and hugs and affection for you both. Hell, they probably wouldn't have minded if he moved into your room once you were at college. It was definitely something he thought about.

"Summer doesn't feel like enough," he muttered. "Doesn't it scare you that things are changing?"

"Of course it does," you replied. "Change isn't always bad though. Things can't always stay the same, Stevie. Me staying home an extra year isn't gonna delay the inevitable."

Steve glanced in his wing mirror, indicating off the highway and pulling into your driveway. You'd had to beg him to come and help you pack; even though he'd acted like he didn't want to, he was secretly delighted at the idea. In fact, he was secretly delighted at spending any time with you.

After yelling a quick hi! to your parents, you both bounded up the stairs and into your bedroom. It was pretty much stripped now, years worth of blue tack and marks and scuffs on the wall. Your entire childhood packed neatly away into boxes; some for college, some for the attic, some for the dump. Steve in particular was drawn to the pile of photos on your nightstand. It was you and him through the years - some were a little dog-eared and frayed, but the two little kids smiling back at him never faltered.

He put them down and glanced over at you. You were sat on the bed now, having discarded your clothes for a pair of sweats and one of his hoodies. He'd leant that to you last year after a day at the lake - naturally, you'd gone running in totally unplanned in your clothes. He'd stood at the side the entire time, too scared of getting his hair wet.

That had always been one of his regrets; holding back. Not just the day at the lake, but the time you'd gone tree climbing and waved to him whilst he waited at the bottom. The time you rode all the big coasters at Coney Island and smiled at him as you went by. You were always going a thousand miles an hour and Steve just fucking stood there, waving as time passed him by. And now you were about to loop-de-loop right away from him.

He watched as you frowned in concentration, hands scrawling away at a messy to-do list. Pack, buy new toothbrush, apply for job, find class schedule. It was the most organised he'd ever seen you.

"You're being awfully quiet," you commented without even looking up. "What's on your mind?"

"Nothing's on my mind."

"Steve, please," you scoffed. "You've been my best friend for fourteen years. Don't try and act like you're not deep in thought about something. What is it? A car? A girl-"

"- kind of," he said. "I was thinking about...us."

You peered up at him, eyebrows creasing. "Us?"

"Yeah. Don't you think we're pretty great?"

"Yeah," you smiled. "You're my best friend, Steve. Nothing will ever change that."

Steve sighed to himself. Wasn't that the whole problem? You were friends. Best, best fucking friends. And even though it was no secret that you yourself had little thoughts and feelings about him, they never seemed to overlap. You'd liked him when he dated Nancy. Then by the time they'd broken up, you were hooking up with the Dungeons and Dragons kid who had been held back two years. Then by the time that ended, Steve was onto his next fling.

And now you were going away. Maybe that's why he was yearning.

"Nothing at all?"

You frowned. "Nothing."

"Not even this?"

To be honest, Steve wasn't really thinking straight. Plagued by nothing but regret and hankering, he threw aside your to-do list and dove across the bed. His hands found your waist, pulling you towards him with might. It didn't take a genius to work out what was going on; even though his actions took you by surprise, you still tangled a hand in his hair when his lips came down on yours, the other finding it's way to the loop of of his best.

He pulled you closer, tongue slipping inside your mouth. You didn't mean to let out a gentle moan as he did, but fuck. Steve Harrington was a good kisser and it was annoying that all those rumours you'd tried to ignore in high school were true.

Steve sat up, pulling you into his lap. He moved his lips from yours, moving down to just below your ear. You didn't protest, instead dropping your head in the crook of his neck.

It wasn't until there was a knock at your door that you both jumped.

The sound was like a cold bucket of water over your head, snapping you back to reality. Fuck. You'd just made out with Steve. He had never been the King of Hawkins high to you; he was the kid that tried to kill Sherm over a decade ago. The same kid who got yellow braces because he thought they looked cool. The same kid that secretly cried every time Vienna by Billy Joel came on the radio.

"Honey, how's packing going?" your mum called. "I'm going to the landfill early tomorrow so make sure that you-"

"- yeah, I will!" you cut her off, trying to catch your breath. "Thanks, mum!"

There was the fall of footsteps as she walked away, leaving you and your best friend to sit there and deal with the consequences of your actions. You were still sat in Steve's lap, cheeks warm with something that wasn't quite embarrassment. His chest was heaving in time with yours, eyes refusing to break your gaze.

"What the fuck did we just do?" you asked.

"I...uh...I kissed you. And you kissed me back, and then I put my hand here and you put yours there and-"

"- it was a rhetorical question!" you exclaimed. "Oh my god, I'm still sat in your lap."

Rolling off of him, you landed on the bed next to Steve. You immediately pulled your hood up, tugging on the strings so that it tightened around your cheeks and hid your face. The worst part of all this was that you'd enjoyed it. Had the universe - in the form of your mother - not interfered, you had no doubt in your mind that you probably would have fucked your best friend. That certainly was a jarring revelation.

"Did you..." you began, but then paused. "Had you thought about doing that for a long time?"

"Yeah, I guess," Steve admitted. "Not like constantly but there's been moments over the last few years. And then I saw you sitting there in my clothes and we're about to say goodbye and-"

"- no we're not, Steve," you grumbled. "Because I'm going to see you at Christmas, and then like every weekend after that, and...Jesus Christ. Was that meant as an impulsive thing or an actual thing?"

He shrugged. "I wouldn't kiss my best friend of fifteen years just for one night. I could go out to a shitty bar downtown and find anyone for that."

"Why now?"

"Can you blame a guy for shooting his shot?" Steve tried to joke, but you didn't laugh "I mean...yeah. Maybe I was thinking about you and I being more than you and I. It seems dumb now."

"Your timing is fucking awful, Steve Harrington," you gave him a small smile, gently running a hand over his face. "You could have asked me at any point before now and I would have said yes."

"But?"

"But I'm moving half way across the fucking country in two days!" you exclaimed. "You're my best friend and I love you but our lives are about to change. The stakes are too high and you are far too important for me to risk losing, okay?"

Steve smiled, giving you a nod. It could have been worse - it could have been a straight up no. A why fuck would I ever love you? or a broken nose. It was still rejection, but it was just...timing. Bad timing. Maybe he just had to wait.

He was okay with that.

taglist: @marauderssworld @boybandbaby (lmk if u want to be added!)

Me after reading this:

BEGGING for lipstick from the prompt list with Steve. I’ve been binging all of your blurbs and then read that prompt and died thinking about it.

you're so sweet, thank you. ♥ honestly i was hoping someone would pick this prompt cause it was my favorite | steve + fake dating ♥

[LIPSTICK; Brushing lipstick off their cheek after the other/someone kisses them. ]

—

You find Steve sitting on a sun lounger beside the pool, watching the water thoughtfully. Probably bored out of his mind, you think, feeling a little guilty.

He doesn't hear you approaching. The sun lounger is big enough for you to sit next to him, though there's only a tiny gap between your bare thigh and his. 

"Sorry," you say, handing him one of the two glasses you brought with you and offering an apologetic smile. 

Steve stares suspiciously at the red liquid, frowning at the small bright yellow umbrella decorating the glass. "For what?" he asks. His tone is soft, his expression even softer when his eyes meet yours.

"For dragging you to the world's most boring party."

"Oh, you should see my parents' parties," he beams, fiddling with the small umbrella absentmindedly. "Those were three times worse than this. And at least I have you here."

He lightly bumps your shoulder with his and you try to keep the smile on your face from looking too silly, too needy. You don't think you succeed. The solution is lowering your head and pretending to be interested in the drink in your hand — which, by the way, you don't even know what it's called, let alone what it's made of.

And Steve looks too pretty in the dim moonlight. 

"And you didn't drag me here, I volunteered," he adds when you don't say anything, taking a careful sip of his own drink. "But what is this? Jesus," he frowns at the glass as if it has offended him deeply.

Then, Steve laughs.

As always, his laugh is contagious. A giggle escapes you in no time. "I have no idea. Some fancy drink May is making for everyone."

Steve braves another sip, then decidedly puts the glass down on the ground next to your legs…your legs, which he's now looking intently at. It's subtle but definitely there, a gaze that lingers a second too long before he's straightening up and clearing his throat, once again the picture of a great, respectful friend. It happened, you tell yourself. And yet, your mind desperately tries to convince you that you're reading too much into this, into him, into this relationship.

You take a big sip of your drink. It's far from being your favorite, but it's also not bad. A little sweet, a little strong. You're not sure whether you're hoping it boosts your courage or completely erases it along with all of your thoughts about the boy beside you. It doesn't seem to be working either way.

Coming to this high school reunion — a pathetic excuse of a party with your classmates from your old school in Indianapolis, more like — was probably not your best decision. Bringing Steve along as your fake boyfriend wasn't your brightest idea either, because even though he'd been pretty convincing all night and made everyone basically fall in love with him, now you can't stop thinking about what it would be like if he really was your boyfriend.

"So," Steve starts, sighing. You look up, hoping to catch a glimpse of a star, a distraction, but the sky is clear tonight. "That guy- Philip."

Steve doesn't look at you. He tries very hard to appear almost distracted, like he's just making small talk. You bite back a smile.

"Phil," you correct him. 

"Phil," Steve repeats, as if the name leaves a bad taste in his mouth. "He looked really upset when you introduced me as your boyfriend, you know."

There's potential in the way this conversation is going, you think, although you also hate how this is the first thing that comes to your mind.

"He's with May," you inform.

"Why do I feel like there's a story there?"

You set your glass down carefully next to Steve's and take a deep breath. "There is. A very short one: we dated the year before I moved to Hawkins, tried long distance, and then he cheated on me with May and they started dating. The end."

Steve stares at you for a long moment before answering.

"Wow, what an idiot. I was going to say I'm sorry, but you can do so much better than him. Honestly."

You exhale a nervous laugh. "So much better that I had to ask a friend to pretend to be my boyfriend just so I wouldn't feel like such a loser."

"You are not a loser."

The look you give him seems to ask 'really?' Steve stares back at you as if you've just cursed him profusely, although you can see the offended expression is entirely false.

"You are not a loser," he repeats seriously, holding your gaze. 

You can read the request implied in the sentence, and you see little option but to comply with it, smiling.

"Okay, I'm not a loser," you concede, feigning annoyance. You look down at your shoes, certain that this is not the time for self-pity but unable to stop. "I just can't make anyone love me."

"I love you," Steve says easily.

You use all your willpower not to blush, even though you're positive it's not even possible to contain such a thing. It's not the first time Steve has said those words and you know there's nothing romantic about them. And yet every time you hear those three words — which happened only a couple of times during the span of your friendship, (usually caused by emotional hugs on holidays) — you still feel an inexplicable tingling in the back of your neck, a shiver down your spine.

"I love you too," you say, and it's not the first time either. Getting the words out without letting the real extent of the feeling behind them show is still quite hard for you. "But I meant, you know… as more than friends."

Steve looks at you differently, or maybe it's just the faint moonlight tricking your eyes, but for a moment you think he's actually going to say something. 

And then the moment passes and he leans forward, resting his palms on his knees in silence. 

You let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

"Thank you."

Steve turns his face to look at you. 

"What for?"

"For coming here with me. And for keeping up the loyal boyfriend facade even in front of a bunch of gorgeous girls drooling over you."

You chuckle in hopes of sounding more relaxed. All Steve does is smile.

"It wasn't hard, you now," he says, and you don't think you'd be able to wipe the smile from your face if you tried. "It was actually pretty easy. And you're way prettier than all of them."

Your smile grows into a giggle. "Steve-"

"And way funnier and kinder too. And nicer. You're really nice, you know that? And your perfume is-"

You put your hand over his mouth, laughing. "Fine, fine! Stop!" you chide, even though this is the last thing you want him to do.

You can see the smile in his eyes.

And that's it; it's the soft look on his face, his infuriating perfect hair, his sweet words...those are the things you blame when you lean forward and impulsively kiss him on the cheek, leaving a red mark on his skin almost perfectly the shape of your lips.

"Thank you," you say before pulling away, sounding surprisingly firm despite what you've just done.

You can't be imagining it. The expression of confusion on his face, half disbelieving and half dreamy, definitely a little satisfied. It can't be just you imagining it.

Did I cause this?

Your thumb touches the lipstick stain on Steve's cheek and you rub it gently, using your other hand to gently cup his chin. "Shit, I'm sorry, Steve," you whisper. "I got lipstick on your face."

He smiles. You know he's smiling because you're looking at his mouth right now.

And he's looking at yours.

Oh my God.

The pad of your thumb is red because of the lipstick and his cheek is still slightly colored by the traces of it, but now your attention has dissipated like a puff of smoke and you are unable to grasp it again.

Steve grabs your wrist, mumbles your name. With his free hand, he touches your lips with his fingertips and states, "Your lipstick is smudged."

"Is it?" you ask.

"It is," he assures. And kisses you.

Steve's lips are soft and he tastes like May's drink, sweet as he moves against you slowly, perhaps hesitant or perhaps wanting to enjoy every second, you think, wishing it was the last option. His arm curls around your waist and you sigh against his mouth, pulling away just for a brief moment. But his lips chase yours and capture them in another kiss and another and another until there's no option but to pull away for air.

He rests his forehead against yours and smiles between heavy breaths. "I lied," Steve whispers. "Your lipstick wasn't smudged before."

Ugh, the cutest thing I've read today 🥹❤️

♡ asking steve harrington to be your first kiss!

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒.

pairings ; steve harrington x shy!reader 

warnings ;  friends but with mutual pining, shy!reader, first kiss, food, pet names, mentions of steve biting ( i promise it’s just a wee joke and isn’t as weird as it might sound. )

word count ; 1704 — whoops.

additional notes ; i swear harmonia, i see your concepts and stuff in people's asks and i think you're literally the best at it so thank you so much for sending this sweet blurb idea through <33

“stevie?” you ask into the empty air, tearing your eyes away from the view in steve’s passenger seat as you previously pondered silently. “mhm?” is all he mumbles back, to show he’s listening while scooping another spoonful of the chocolate ice cream from his tub.

you weren’t sure why you were having ice cream on a cold winter’s night, but steve had suggested it and you never tend to question steve’s random motives as such. your half-eaten raspberry tub rests on your lap, slightly melted from neglect during the reverie you coaxed yourself into. parked atop a hill overlooking the town below the moonlight.

you don’t continue at first, looking down to your knee which now bounces anxiously. and with the extra space of silence, steve looks up from his ice cream, eyes peeking beneath the strands of hair that poke his face.

sitting the tub into one cup holder, steve moves back against his seat, one hand beginning to drum the steering wheel aimlessly while he watches your body language. “you don’t like it? thought it was one of your favourites?” steve continues worriedly, and nods towards the dessert in your hands.

you shake your head, ushering it into the cup holder beside his with a very small, “no, no. i do… i’ll have it in a second.”

“okay.”

the car falls silent again, steve watches as you slump against your seat and lose yourself in the view again. however, steve can tell it isn’t the landscape you’re thinking of, but if only he could pinpoint exactly what you were thinking.

penny for your thoughts, steve thinks and hesitates upon saying. in the end leaving you be at first, instead reaching a hand over to your restless knee and it suddenly stops moving. steve squeezes it affectionately, a small message that he’s still listening as he turns down the radio ever so slightly.

“what was your first kiss like?” you splutter all of a sudden, voice quiet and a deep nervous inhale following. steve wasn’t expecting it, eyes blinking and eyebrows raising as he processes the question. he taps your knee once more before moving his hand back to his lap, and you immediately miss the warmth.

“eighth grade with vanessa johnson. i freaked out so bad i bit her lip and she never spoke to me again.”

with steve’s statement you giggle. of course he did just that. “you bit her?” you repeat, hand covering your mouth as more laughter falls from your lips, and steve joins you with an amused nod, “sure did.”

your hand falls from your mouth while you lean your head back to face the car roof, laughter slowly falling back down and steve can only watch you with the fondest smile. “do you bite every girl you kiss?”

“no. funnily enough it was an accident and she hated my guts for it,” steve responds to your teasing with another chuckle emitting his throat. your head tilts to the side, cheek pressed to your shoulder as you look over at him, his gaze intoxicating as he smiles so warmly towards you.

“i got much better, y’know?” steve smirks, ego boosting himself. “i know,” you reply without thinking and steve pulls a face, confusion and amusement packed into one before nudging your arm gently, “what do you mean you know?”

you laugh again, embarrassed and quietly when you reply, “high school girls locker room. steve harrington was the topic of conversation most days before gym class for the popular girls.” steve grimaces, unamused and worried about the fact that you had heard those conversations about steve’s kissing techniques.

“god, high school. don’t miss it a bit.”

you don’t reply. looking out the passenger door window and to the couple of cars upon that side, distractedly staring as you sigh sadly. and steve’s not an idiot. he’s your best friend and also someone who’s been infatuated with you for years, he can tell what you’re thinking this time.

“it’ll happen, you just need to find the right person.”

your first kiss. still in your twenties without having ever kissed someone, while others around you were now in serious relationships.

you close your eyes and sigh at steve’s words. that’s the problem; you have always had the right person but you’re too terrified to make the first move. the unbearable fear that steve wouldn’t like you back was excruciating while he dated several girls during your friendship that you hoped he would be brave enough to do something instead.

maybe he just wasn’t interested in you that way. since he had no problem asking all those other girls out, as far as you can tell.

“i have an idea.”

steve’s quiet and patient to match your timid voice, you can usually get more shy in conversations you’re scared of and he’s willing to hear you out. but when is he never. “yeah?” is all he asks, practically a whisper.

your words get lodged in your throat, how are you supposed to ask your best friend to kiss you? that’s not easy. what if he hates you after? what if he thinks you’re impatient? or what if it ruins your friendship?

you wave yourself off, cringing on yourself and about to change the subject completely while leaning a hand down for your tub of ice cream but steve grips your hand and bends his head down to meet your gaze.

“hey, hey, hey. you can tell me your idea. i won’t judge you.”

“i don’t know, steve, i—” steve turns, his body facing yours while he grips your other free hand and you follow his movements to face him more clearer. the car light was on while you previously ate and it illuminated the tanned skin upon his face, showing off the sweet dark freckles spotted across his cheek and neck. 

“i know who i want to be my first kiss.”

your forehead falls into you and steve’s held hands, embarrassed while a small ‘o’ shape forms on steve’s mouth as he thinks. “oh,” is all steve says, a pang of hurt sprawling across his chest rapidly at the word. someone. someone.

before you can lift your head to ramble an apology about how stupid it is, steve beats you to it by holding onto his pride and storing away his sadness. “any guy would be so lucky to have you, yeah? so lucky, baby. and if you know who you want to be your first kiss, i say go for it.”

steve’s ready to continue, busy trying to seem like he’s okay with this idea and not noticing that you lift your head back up to look at him properly. he doesn’t notice the way you squeeze his gripping hands or giggle at his rushed voice, he doesn’t notice anything until you say, “steve.”

it’s quiet. your voice barely audible but steve thanks his good hearing because he immediately cuts himself off to listen to you. your faces are close, his pupils rapidly moving when they scan over your features as if he’s figuring out what you’re trying to say.

“what, baby?”

“steve.” you say again, tone knowing and desperate and almost a hint of feeling shameful and steve’s eyes widen when yours fleet to his lips for the shortest second. this can’t be real, steve thinks. there’s no way.

you huff when he still sits still, hands keep holding yours tightly, “don’t make me say it,” you whine and steve chuckles. he tilts his head down, forehead pressed against yours as he replies, “oh, but i want you to say it. please say it.”

you can feel the warmth spread to your face as another shy whine threatens to break your throat, but just as you move your head in an attempt to tuck it into his neck, steve’s hands are shuffling from yours so he’s cupping your face.

“it’s okay, baby. it’s okay. i can do it, i’ll gladly do it. if you want me to?” his thumbs swipe your skin so delicately and his eyes are gazing with such a genuine stare that you feel you might crumble. with a nod, there’s a strangled sentence you let out, “y-yes. i do, stevie.”

he chuckles once more, a mixture of how cute he thinks you are but also in disbelief that he’s about to kiss you.

steve’s so slow, head tilting as he leans forward so his nose runs across your skin and you can feel the ghost of his lips closer and closer. in a warm daze, you whisper into the cold car when steve’s lips touch the corner of yours, “don’t bite me.”

you feel the curve of his smile while his nose drags down your face so he’s tucked under your jaw, both of your chests heaving with laughter. your hands reach up so they are holding onto his wrists, and he looks back up at your cupped face, “no promises, you’ll probably taste of raspberry ice cream.”

this time steve’s patience isn’t as strong, leaning forward to crash his lips against yours in what you believe will be most breath-taking kiss you could ever receive. corners of both your lips threaten to smile as you feel the sparks within your chest and squeeze the skin of his wrists.

he tastes of chocolate from his ice cream and the coffee he had earlier on and you go light-headed at the thought, never wanting to pull away. he’s so sweet and slow, lips guiding yours against his so tenderly that you pray to god it won’t be the last steve harrington kiss you receive.

you both reluctantly pull away, lungs begging to be filled with air but steve only pulls away for a moment before pecking your lips again. your mind feels foggy from the gesture that you almost don’t notice the nip to your bottom lip as steve pulls away.

you gasp mockingly, opening your eyes with steve’s smug smirk, turning his palms from your face so he can hold yours again, resting them against your lap. “i was right,” steve says, leaning forward when you dip your head to contain your happiness.

“you taste like raspberries,” steve murmurs just as happily against your lips.

⤸

taglist form . the library . all blurbs

steve harrington; masterlist. blurbs

Oh, I loved it. Poor Steve and Eddie freaking out 😭 y/n absolutely satisfied with both and the two of them unfortunately don't remember a thing.

Now I need a fic with the redo.

Luck

Eddie Munson x Reader x Steve Harrington (Fluff)

| Masterlist | AO3 Link |

Summary: After a wild night out at The Hideout, Eddie Munson wakes up in bed with some unexpected company and no memory of what happened.

Rating: General Auidences

Author Note: Gender neutral reader, no pronouns used.

CW: Recreational alcohol and marijuana use; tobacco use; heavily implied sex (no details); could be seen as dubcon due to the use of mild altering substances, but I tried my best to address it in the story that this is something they all wouldn't done sober, too.

Word Count: 4,345

Eddie Tag List: @eddie-swhore

Waking up after a hard night of drinking was always strange and unpleasant. In all honesty, that was why Eddie Munson preferred weed. Sure, getting drunk could be fun with the right people, but the next day was always a little slice of hell on earth.

Today was no exception. Rather than gently lifting up into consciousness as he woke up naturally, he was instead woken up by a severe pounding in his head.

Eddie opened his eyes briefly and groaned in pain before closing them again. The open curtains allowed the late morning sun to illuminate the room. The bright light sent bolts of pain through each of his eyeballs, making the headache worse. It was a steady pounding feeling, as if someone were in his head playing a drum solo.

Rolling onto his back, Eddie brought his ring clad hands up to his face to rub his eyes for a bit before attempting to open them again. While it still hurt, at least he expected the room to be so bright this time. Still though, it made his stomach turn a bit and his head throb even more. He knew if he tried to get up right now that his stomach wouldn’t be feeling too good either. Eddie decided his normal hangover cure was in order.

Shutting his eyes again, he rolled over towards the center of his bed, fully intending to go back to sleep. He threw his arm out to stretch across the empty space next to him.

Instead of stretching out like he intended though, his arm landed on something that cause it do bend at an awkward angle, as if draped over something. Eddie cracked his eyes open again and lifted his head slightly. It took him a moment to process it, but he eventually realized there was someone else laying under the blankets with him, still sleeping peacefully.

While bringing someone home with him from The Hideout wasn’t a completely uncommon occurrence, it didn’t happen very often. And, when it did, he was always sober enough to remember it once he woke up in the next day. Right now, though, Eddie couldn’t even remember how he got home from the bar last night, much less remember bringing someone home with him.

Though Eddie’s head was still pounding, the idea of sleep was forgotten. He started wracking his brain, trying to piece together the previous night.

Corroded Coffin had a Saturday night gig at The Hideout. That much he remembered. It ended up being a fantastic show. All of their friends came out for it, and they drew in a fairly large crowd since they were playing on the weekend. Granted, the bar was still under half capacity, but it was one of their largest crowds to date and that was something to celebrate. And, after the show, that’s exactly what everyone had done.

Eddie remembered Steve buying a round of drinks after the performance. He remembered you and him sneaking off to a stall in the men’s room to share a joint. He remembered Gareth ordering a round of shots when the two of you got back. Then Robin ordered a round of drinks after that. And then Jeff ordered another round of shots after that. At some point, he vaguely remembered tequila getting involved. But, after that, there was nothing until just a little bit ago when he woke up.

After thinking on it for a while, he gave up on trying to remember, figuring that would come back later. But Eddie was curious now. He reached over to gently pull the blanket down a bit to see who it was he ended up taking home with him.

Eddie froze, still holding the blanket.

You. You were lying next to him in bed.

Eddie’s mind whirled, his heart pounding as loudly as his head by this point.

You’d never been in bed with him before, even just to sleep. There were only a few times you’d ever stayed over, only on nights when you couldn’t drive home or the weather was bad, but he always slept on the couch those nights so you could have the bed to yourself. There had to be a logical explanation for this.

Out of curiosity, he lifted the edge of the blanket and looked down.

Eddie’s heart stopped.

You both were completely naked.

He stared down at your bodies as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing.

You were laying with your arms folded against your chest and half on your stomach, which blocked your private areas from his view. All he could really see the full length of your bare leg all the way up past the curve of your ass to your hip.

Your hip that currently had a hand on it, which was neither his nor yours.

Eddie sat up hurriedly. It was quite a shock realizing there was a third person in bed with you two, but that was nothing in comparison to the shock of seeing who exactly it was.

Curled up on your other side was none other than Steve Harrington.

Once again, it took a moment for Eddie to comprehend what he was seeing.

The section of blanket on Steve’s side had slid down some, revealing that he was shirtless. Though, another peek under the blankets revealed that he was just as naked as you and Eddie were.

Fully in shock now, Eddie slowly laid back down. He stared at the ceiling, wracking his brain again in a desperate attempt to remember the night before.

The fog of alcohol and the headache from the hangover blocked off his memory still, so he gave up again and debated on what he should do next.

He supposed he could just leave and come back later after the both of you had left, but that would only delay the inevitable. You two would still be waking up naked in his bed even if he wasn’t there to see it. Eventually, this would need to be addressed if you all wanted any sort of friendship after this. It was going to be awkward when the two of you woke up. That much he knew for sure.

Now in desperate need in of a smoke, Eddie carefully slipped out of bed, trying not to wake either of you. He found a pair of sweatpants among his laundry scattered about on the floor. As he pulled them on, he noticed your clothes and Steve’s flung haphazardly around the room, along with the clothes he had been wearing last night. He swallowed heavily, quietly heading from the bedroom.

As he made a pit stop in the bathroom, Eddie was still trying to figure out how you all ended up in bed together. He knew what it looked like. He was well aware of what it looked like. But it couldn’t possibly have been that. No way. He’d never been drunk or high enough to act on his attraction to either of you. The only thing he could think of was that all you all started feeling hot from the alcohol, stripped down to cool off and just fell asleep. That had to be it.

But then as he went to leave the bathroom, he glanced in the mirror and did a double take. Scattered along his upper chest, neck and shoulders were hickies and bite marks of various sizes and shades.

Stunned, he stared at himself for a moment. He turned slowly then turned to get a good look at the rest of his body. While there wasn’t any more hickies that he could see, streaked down his back were several dark pink welts that were clearly nail marks. In addition to that, just above his shoulder blades were a few crescent shaped bruises, like someone had dug their nails into his back while holding onto him.

Eddie’s jaw dropped. He met his own gaze in the mirror.

“What the fuck did you do?” he said softly to his reflection.

In the living room, Eddie found evidence that you three had hung out here for a while before migrating to his bed. A few empty beer bottles littered the coffee table and a half-smoked joint sat in the ashtray. Eddie slipped on his jacket and sneakers before grabbing the joint on the way to the front door.

This morning called for something stronger than a cigarette now.

Trying to stay quiet, he left the front door partially open and gently closed the screen door. The sun was even brighter now that he was outside, which immediately got in Eddie’s eyes and made him wince. His head was throbbing even more now that he was up, which, as predicted, was starting to make his stomach queasy. He lit the joint first, hoping to calm his nerves as well as the effects of the hangover. Once that was gone, he fished his cigarettes out of his pocket and began chain smoking.

Not too long after Eddie started on his first cigarette, a very groggy, and very hungover, Steve sat up in bed. He rubbed his eyes and squinted as he looked around the room. Confusion sat in as he didn’t recognize where he was at first. But then after his gaze landed on a couple of guitars and one heavy metal poster after another, he slowly came to realize he was in Eddie’s bedroom.

This didn’t come as a surprise to Steve though. The plan the night before had always been to come back to Eddie’s place at the end of the night. Nancy had picked the three of you up from there since it was her turn to be the designated driver, so you all had left your vehicles there. While he didn’t remember coming to bed, he had vague memories of sharing a cab with you and Eddie once the bar had closed, well after Nancy and the others had left. He remembered you three wanted to continue partying and you two decided you were staying the night. Wayne was out of town that weekend for work training, so Eddie was all for having you two over for the night.

As Steve went to swing his legs out of bed, a sudden throbbing in his head made him double over slightly, his elbows resting on his thighs, eyes squeezed closed and slightly watering.

Getting drunk is always a good idea until the next day.

Halfway through his third cigarette, Eddie heard someone stirring in the trailer through the screen door. Whoever it was, be it you or Steve, was trying to be quiet, but the creaky floor wasn’t having it.

Eddie wasn’t any closer to figuring out what he was going to do. Leaving still seemed like the best idea, but it was too late for that now. The keys to his van were on the kitchen counter.

Fortunately, whoever was it was didn’t come outside, giving him some more time to compose himself. He listened to them shuffle across the living room, pick up the phone and dial a number.

Whoever they were trying to call didn’t answer because Eddie heard them hang up then try again.

“C’mon, pick up,” a voice muttered from inside.

Eddie couldn’t tell who it was until whoever the person they were trying to call finally answered.

“Robin! Finally!” they whisper yelled. “I’m freaking out over here!”

Eddie finally recognized the voice as Steve’s and some of his nerves eased hearing it was Steve, but he still wasn’t quite ready to face him just yet. Creeping closer to the door, he listened in on Steve’s side of the conversation.

“You’ve gotta help me out, I don’t know what to do!” Pause. “I can’t calm down! I just woke up next to Y/N in Eddie’s bed!” Pause. “Robin, we were both naked!” Pause. “No, I’m not joking!” Pause. “Seriously, Robin, now is not the time for jokes!” Pause. “I don’t know if I had fun, I don’t remember anything after leaving The Hideout!”

Knowing that he wasn’t the only one in the dark made Eddie feel a little better about the whole thing. But then a thought occurred to him, and all of his nerves came back.

In a way, he hoped you wouldn’t remember any it either. There was no telling what your reaction would be to all this. There wasn’t any use trying to deny what happened anymore. The three of you had a threesome last night. Or, at the very least, you and Eddie fucked. That much was obviously for certain judging from the way his own chest and back looked. But, then again, it wouldn’t make much sense why Harrington would be in the same state as you both unless he was also involved too. At least if none of you remembered what happened, that way you would all be a blank slate and could pretend it didn’t happen.

Granted, he didn’t know how that would be possible since you all would know it happened, regardless of whether or not any of you remembered it. But, if that’s what it took to still be friends after all this, he was willing to give it a shot. He didn’t want to lose either of you due to some stupid drunken escapade.

Eddie sighed and took the last drag off his cigarette as Steve was finishing his call.

Time to face the music.

He stepped back into the trailer as Steve was hanging up the phone. Steve didn’t hear him at first, giving Eddie the chance to get a look at him.

While Steve had pulled on his jeans, he was still shirtless, giving Eddie a good view of his torso. He could see some nail marks down his back, as well as a few hickies on his neck and shoulders.

There was one question answered, at least.

The sound of the screen door closing made Steve finally turn around, revealing more hickies across his chest. A sheepish look came over his face when he saw Eddie.

“Uh, hey,” Steve said, running his hand through his hair nervously. “Morning.”

“Morning,” Eddie said, fiddling with his rings nervously.

A brief silence fell over the two men.

“Y/N’s naked,” Steve suddenly blurted out, and then pointed towards Eddie’s bedroom. “In your bed. Back there.”

Eddie nodded slowly.

“Yeah,” Eddie said, swallowing heavily. “Yeah, I saw.”

“So was I,” Steve said, and once again run his hand through his hair. “Completely naked. Next to Y/N. In your bed.”

Eddie nodded again.

“Yeeeah,” he said slowly. “I, uh, was naked, too. With you two. In my bed.”

Steve’s eyes widened and he swallowed heavily. He looked in the direction of the bedroom then back to Eddie.

“Do you think we…you know?” Steve asked, gesturing between the two of them and the bedroom, then gave the air a little thrust of his hips, as if he didn’t want to say what he was thinking.

“Obviously,” Eddie said, and gestured between the two of them. “Look at us, man. We had a pretty wild night from the looks of it.”

At Eddie’s words, Steve looked down at his chest. His eyes were wide as he slowly looked back up at Eddie.

“What the hell should we do?” Steve whisper yelled, looking close to panicking.

“I have no idea!” Eddie whisper yelled back. “I can’t say I’ve ever woken up like this before, much less with either of you!”

The two men stared at each other for a moment before Steve sighed.

“Man, this is crazy,” Steve said, which Eddie nodded in agreement with. Then Steve sighed, his arms crossing over his chest. “Maybe…we should see how Y/N feels about it first?”

Eddie brightened.

“Good idea,” he said hurriedly, feeling somewhat relieved the overall outcome wouldn’t be on his shoulders. “If Y/N’s fine with it, then I’m fine with it.”

Steve nodded readily in agreement. He opened his mouth to say something else but cut himself off when the sound of the toilet flushing came from the bathroom down the hall.

Both men whipped their heads around at the sound. Neither of them had heard you get up. Soon, they heard the bathroom door open.

Now it really was time to face the music.

Since facing Steve had gone easier than expected, Eddie braced himself for your reaction. He was fully prepared for a meltdown. He expected you to be upset, and even braced himself for tears. He expected some yelling, possibly some screaming. There might even be some accusations, though the possibility of you thinking anything like that made Eddie’s stomach clench. He hoped you would know that he would never take advantage of you while you were drunk…but, then again, could he really say that since he didn’t even remember what happened? The very idea alone made his stomach clenched even tighter.

When you came out of the bathroom, you were dressed in your clothes from the night before. You were humming softly, which struck Eddie as strange considering the circumstances. You usually didn’t hum all that much, just when you were in an exceedingly good mood. This didn’t really strike Eddie as an occasion where you would be in a good mood though.

As you started to turn into the kitchen, you looked up and saw them in the living room.

“Morning fellas,” you said, smiling brightly at them both before ducking into the small kitchen.

They could hear you start to open cabinet doors. Eddie and Steve both looked at each other, deep confusion on their faces. It didn’t seem like you were bothered by the state of things at all. Maybe you hadn’t put two and two together yet? You woke up alone in bed, so it was possible.

You came back a moment later and stood in the doorway to the living room. A box of cereal was tucked under your arm, and you were eating it dry right out of the box with your free hand.

Aside from the crunch of cereal and the sounds drifting in from the outside, the room was silent. It wasn’t exactly a comfortable silence but wasn’t really an uncomfortable one either. It was just a silence.

Eddie started rubbing the back of his neck nervously, his gaze flicking repeatedly between you and Steve. Steve was in a similar state, one of his feet tapping anxiously and he kept crossing and uncrossing his arms, his eyes looking between you and Eddie. You seemed to be the only one relaxed, munching on your cereal and looking between the two men.

It seemed like everyone was waiting on someone else to start talking first.

After some time of this, you cleared your throat, which made them both look back over at you.

“Uh,“ you finally said, smiling shyly at them. “Hi.”

“Hi,” said both Eddie and Steve at the same time.

“I, uh,” you said, then stopped to clear your throat. “I had a lot of fun last night.” you said.

Before either of them could process what you just said, you started laughing nervously and shook your head.

“Sorry,” you said, your cheeks flushing a soft pink. “That was a really weird thing for me to say after everything. I mean, obviously, I had fun.”

Eddie exchanged another look with Steve, then back to you.

Now you were the one who looked nervous, taking their silent exchange of a look for something else.

“Did, did you two have fun, too?” you asked, shifting on your feet.

Eddie rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“Well, um, that’s the thing, Princess,” he said, then stopped, unsure of how to phrase things.

“We were, uh,” Steve continued after a moment. “Actually trying to figure all that out. What happened last night, I mean.”

Your eyes widened at their words, and you looked back and forth between the two again.

“You guys don’t remember?” you asked.

Both men shook their heads.

Your mouth dropped opened in shock.

“Exactly h-how drunk were you two last night?” you asked softly.

“I don’t remember leaving The Hideout,” Eddie confessed, with a shrug.

“I barely remember the cab ride here,” Steve said. “Nothing after that though.”

Your hand flew to your mouth, an expression of horror on your face.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry,” you said, your voice remorseful and you looked on the verge of tears. “I had no idea you guys were that drunk, I swear!”

“No no no!” Eddie said, taking a few steps forward so he could rest a hand on your shoulder. “You have nothing to be sorry for. This isn’t your fault.”

All of a sudden, a very sheepish look came to you face and your cheeks flushed a bright pink.

“Actually, um,” you said. “I kind of initiated the whole thing.”

There was a moment of silence.

“What whole thing?” Steve asked, voice quiet and tinged with awe.

There was another moment of silence.

“You know,” you finally said, then gestured between the three of you, as if you were hesitant to say it. “Us. Having sex. It was my idea.”

There was a lot longer than just a moment of silence after that one.

Steve nearly fell over where he was standing but managed to catch his balance.

Eddie’s hand dropped from your shoulder in shock to hang limply at his side.

Now that it was confirmed, Eddie tried once again to remember the night before. Squeezing his eyes shut, he rubbed the bridge of his nose. The fog of alcohol was still too thick to penetrate with his head in the state it was and straining to think didn’t do anything but make the headache worse.

“So, um,” Steve said, finally breaking the silence and making Eddie look up. “H-How did it happen?”

“Well,” you said slowly, swallowing a bite of cereal. “We’ve all been flirting pretty heavily with each other for a while now, and I’ve had a thing for both of you for a long time before that.” A bashful grin came to your face then. “So, I may have gotten a little buzzed and handsy at the bar, and you both were into it. After we came back here, we had a few more drinks and, well…” You cleared your throat and looked down shyly. “I decided to try my luck and asked if you two wanted to have sex with me.”

Both Eddie and Steve stared at you in shock.

“You’ve had a thing got us for a while?” Eddie said when he finally found his voice again.

You nodded.

There was a short pause in the conversation as they processed this.

“Well?” Steve said after abit. “What’d we say?”

Eddie looked over at him with a raised brow. As if their answer wasn’t obvious already.

“Truthfully, not much,” you said as you looked up. “It escalated pretty quickly after that. Though, you both did double check to make sure I fully understood what I was saying after the alcohol and weed.” A warm smile came to your face. “I thought that was really sweet.”

Now it was Eddie’s turn to look down shyly.

The room was got quiet again.

“But you said you had fun, right?” Steve suddenly asked. You nodded in confirmation. “Then that must mean we did good, right?”

Eddie looked over at Steve, gawking at him. While this was an entirely new situation for him, Eddie was pretty sure it was in poor taste to ask for a report card after having a threesome.

To his surprise, you didn’t seem to mind. Biting your bottom lip, you grinned and nodded.

Eddie couldn’t help but grin himself then, a boost of confidence suddenly coming back. It briefly made him forget about the oddness of this situation.

“Yeah?” he asked, then decided to be bold. “How good?”

Now you were blushing again.

“Well, I’m pretty sore today,” you said, your voice going a bit higher pitched, so you had to clear your throat before continuing. “You both were pretty enthusiastic all night.”

It wasn’t too long after that you had to leave since you were supposed to meet up with family later on. The three of you kept conversation light as you and Steve finished dressing, talking about your plans for the day.

Once you got ready to leave, you gave them each a soft kiss on the lips.

“Hopefully once the hangovers go away you guys will remember some of it,” you said with a smile as you headed for the door.

“I sure as hell hope so, Princess,” Eddie groaned before he could stop himself.

While he turned red at his own words, you giggled at him as you opened the door to leave. It was the first time Eddie had ever heard that sound from you and it made his heart speed up. It gave him even more of his confidence back.

“If we don’t remember, any chance there could be a redo?” Eddie asked before he could talk himself out of it.

You froze in mid-step halfway out the door and turned quickly to look at Eddie. The shock on your face was almost comical. A quick glance over at Steve showed him staring at Eddie in horror. Looking back at you, Eddie gave you his biggest grin and winked at you, which he was delighted to see made you blush.

“Um, I-I don’t know,” you said, and then a grin of your own slowly spread across your face. “Maybe. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

You sent a wink back at Eddie before leaving then. Steve wasn’t too far behind, heading out himself just a few minutes later.

Plopping down on the couch as he listened to Steve’s car driving away, Eddie sighed heavily and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Initially, he didn’t have plans for today, but now he knew what he was going to spend the rest of his day doing.

Trying to remember fucking his two very hot best friends.

Avoidance

summary: you’ve been friends with steve harrington since freshman year in highschool. and you’ve also been in love with him since then. but you realize he would never love you back, so you decide to put some distance between the two of you without explanation.

warnings: cursing, self esteem issues, attachment issues, abandonment issues, emotional angst to fluff !

A/N: ignore nancy in the gif 💔 this is not proofread cuz i’m tired and lazy. also it’s been quite awhile since i’ve written but i’m feeling extremely attached to steve still and also needed to get some of my own emotions out lol

word count: 3.3k exact :)

It was yet another sleepless night. Your brain too wrapped up in anxious thoughts to even let you think about closing your eyes for more than a few seconds. So you listen to the rain hitting your window and let the thoughts take over, deciding you needed to stop pushing them away. You weren’t sure how long you’d been staring at your ceiling for, but you were shaken out of your thoughts by the phone ringing. It’s one in the morning who the hell is calling? You thought as you went to answer the loud device.

“Hello?” You sounded drained.

“Couldn’t sleep either huh?” Steve sounded almost as drained.

“Nope. Why’d you call?” You hadn’t meant to sound so short but you’ve had quite a rough day at work and didn’t feel like talking. Usually Steve would make you feel better immediately but lately being around him, even hearing his voice, has just made your heart hurt.

“Figured if I was awake you probably would be too.”

“Okay… So why call? Just to test your theory?” You joked but there was hardly a joking tone present.

“I guess I just wanted to hear your voice. Helps me clear my thoughts sometimes,” he ignored your joke, “are you alright?”

“Yeah Steve. Just peachy.”

God why am i being so rude to him? He didn’t do anything?

“Was work bad today?” He knew better than to take your tone personally.

“Yeah. Nothing new though. Just being being assholes.” You didn’t feel like talking about how your day at the video store went. You’re pretty sure you even scared Robin with how irritated you were getting, considering Robin was silent half the shift and she always has something to say.

“I’m sorry princess. Anything specific-“

Princess… A name he initially used a joke, to call you dramatic or pretend like you were asking for so much as if you believed you were royalty, that he’s been using on a more regular basis lately. God you hate that name.

“Steve I’m really tired. I gotta go.” You felt bad for cutting him off but you couldn’t pretend to give a shit about work right now. Not when you knew that’s not what was really bothering you.

There was a beat of silence, Steve being surprised at you cutting him off and the tone you had, “okay. I hope you sleep well. I’m here if you need me.” He knew you weren’t sleeping soon.

“Yeah you too. Goodnight.”

When Steve hung up he couldn’t shake the awful feeling he had that he had done something wrong. Usually he doesn’t worry about that with you. You’re always so kind to him and reassuring, knowing he blames himself easily for really anything he can. But tonight just now, that was new. He hated it. He hated not being able to make you feel better.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After falling asleep sometime around four in the morning, your alarm went off at six thirty for work. Needless to say you ended up flipping off your alarm clock and going back to bed. You woke up again to the phone ringing, but you decided to ignore it, completely forgetting why your alarm went off. About your shift at Family Video.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To say Steve was anxious when he arrived at work to see Keith instead of you, was a huge understatement. Not even because he hated working with him, but because you were weird last night and now you didn’t show up to work. You haven’t missed a day since you started there.

“Hey Keith. Where’s y/n?”

“Thought you would know Harrington. She decided not to show up today.”

“She didn’t say why?”

Keith laughed, “she didn’t even call.”

Steve’s anxiety only grew. He immediately went to the phone in the back, calling you. If rang for what felt like an eternity. No answer. He called again. Okay, he called a few more times.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your phone wouldn’t stop ringing. You looked to your clock, it was twelve pm. You reluctantly got up to answer.

“What?” You already knew it was Steve. He was the only one who would call that many times in a row.

“Y/n what the hell?” You could hear the panic and slight relief mixed with a hint of anger.

“Mind telling me what i’m being yelled at for?”

“Yelled at? I’m not-“ you heard him inhale, you knew he was pinching the bridge of his nose, “does your shift at work today ring a bell?” You couldn’t even tell which tone he had that time.

“Shit. Sorry. Slept in.”

“…That’s it? That’s all you got?”

“Jesus Steve I’m so sorry you had to work with Keith. I’ll get ready and head over there, calm do-“

“I don’t give a shit that I had to work with Keith, y/n. I thought- I was worried something happened.”

Shit. Now you were really being an asshole. You know how anxious he gets when someone isn’t where they’re supposed to be and don’t give a reason. Not after all the scary shit you’ve been through. He immediately assumes the worst. Even if it does seem slightly irrational, neither of you are sure what exactly is rational anymore.

“I’m sorry. Seriously I just went to bed so late and i stopped my alarm without thinking. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’m really sorry.” You felt like crying. You know the panic he was feeling when he didn’t see you and when it took ten calls for you to answer. Steve could hear that through the phone.

“It’s okay. Sorry I got a bit too anxious over nothing. Take your time, yeah? I’ll be alright with Keith for a little longer.” His voice was much softer again.

“I get it Steve. Please don’t apologize, I think you’re allowed to feel that way after everything you’ve been through.” Steve felt himself relax a bit, your reassurance made him feel better after worrying all night about doing something that had pissed you off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You arrived at work thirty minutes later somehow. Steve smiled when he saw you and you tried to smile back but you knew it wasn’t very convincing.

“You’re lucky you’re good at knowing what movies customers would like. Otherwise you’d be kicked to the curb y/l/n.” Keith pointed at you, sounding surprisingly less angry than you’d expected.

“Sorry Keith. Won’t happen again I swear.”

“Better not.” He mumbled and walked through the back door to his car.

“Hey. Would you rather sort and restock or check out customers and rewind these?” Steve held up a handful of tapes.

“Doesn’t matter to me.” You shrugged. Steve knew you preferred to sit and rewind the tapes when you were tired and / or anxious. So he stood up and gestures towards the chair he was previously on.

“the rewinding is all your princess.” He did a funny bow and attempted to sound british. Though it was definitely Australian. It actually would’ve been really impressive if Australian is what he was going for.

“Do I get a koala too?” You smirked and it took Steve a second to realize the jab at his accent.

“Wow ok I see how it is I do something kind and you repay me with a snarky comment.” He put his hand over his heart and pretended to be offended. But his grin gave him away.

“Oh I’m sorry. Thank you Steve Harrington! My savior!” You put your hands together and pretended to fawn over him, laughing.

God Steve loved your smile and your laugh. He’d sell a kidney to see it 24/7.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Steve was away stocking the romance section, your thoughts came back. Your depressing mood resurfacing. You were trying to keep your distance a bit, but he kept pulling you back in with his warm smile and his stupid Harrington charm.

You joked every now and then for the rest of your shift, but Steve could tell your mood had changed again. You knew he knew by the look on his face. A weak smile that you knew was the same you were giving him.

“Try to get some better rest tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“No promises. And yeah.” You lied. You had already decided halfway through your shift that you wouldn’t come in to see him on your next days off, including tomorrow, like you usually did. You were going to make it four days without seeing him. You were going to try not to call him too, but you knew better than that. You knew he’d end up calling you. If not to talk then to check you’re alive.

You waved goodbye and drove home. Deciding to watch a comfort movie before falling asleep earlier than you thought you would. Probably from the lack of sleep from the previous night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steve looked up every time the bell on the door rang, waiting to see you. The highlight of his day. Except every time he looked, it was never you. Robin noticed of course.

“Alright Steve. This is getting a little pathetic. Even for you.”

He gave her a confused look.

“I know you’re waiting for y/n to walk through the door. We have fifteen minutes till we’re closed. I don’t think she’s coming in today dingus.”

“She just- She usually comes in.”

“Steve you saw her yesterday. She’s probably busy. Maybe Eleven is making her build a fort with her again.”

Steve just shrugged and worked on rewinding the last few tapes. It was oddly a comforting thing for him to do when you weren’t there. It reminded him of you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Steve got home he called you just like you thought he would.

“Hey Steve. Sorry I didn’t stop in today. I am alive and I’m fine. Just had a lot of shopping to do.”

“No it’s okay. You have a life outside of that store.”

It was silent. Neither of you having much to say. Then you spoke up, “You okay?” You could hear something off with Steve.

“Yeah. I just hope you’re okay. You know you can tell me anything.”

“I know Steve. I’m okay. Just in a bit of a rut I guess.”

“If you need anything just call. Please.”

You swear your heart cracked at the way his voice sounded. You know he hates not being able to help, “I will. Promise.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The third day you didn’t show up to say hi to Steve and Robin, Steve decided to not call. He decided to leave you alone, assuming you needed distance or something. Even Robin was confused and a bit worried. Mostly worried for Steve.

“Steve?” He jumped a little when Robin put her hand on his shoulder, jolting him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah? Sorry, was thinking.”

“I can see that. What’s going on?”

“Y/n’s been… weird. She’s been quiet. Which is normal for other people who are around her, but not for me. She’s always making so many jokes when we work together and she always comes in on her days off just to mess with me and pick a new movie to watch. She always calls too. To tell me about whatever movie she watched. But she’s basically been ignoring me. Did I do something? Please tell me if I did something stupid Rob.”

Robin felt her heart sink when he looked up at her searching for answers. He looked like a kicked puppy. She couldn’t find it in herself to tease him.

“She hasn’t said anything to me bud. I’m sorry. I can talk to her though if you-“

“No!” He cleared his throat, “no, it’s okay. I don’t want her to think we’re talking about her when she’s not here.”

“But we are-“

“You know what I mean. Just… Maybe see if she’s okay. But don’t bring me up.”

“I’ll drop by her place tonight then I’ll call you. I’m sure she’s just stressed or something.” She gave him a reassuring smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were surprised to hear a knock on your door at ten that night.

You opened the door to see Robin.

“Robin? What are you-“

She barged in.

“Okay just come on in then…” You mumbled confused.

“What’s wrong with you?” She didn’t sound angry, but she didn’t sound happy.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh come on. That shit doesn’t work on me. You know what I mean. Why are you avoiding Steve?”

“Avoiding Steve? I’m not-“

“Almost not showing up to work when you worked with him, making your phone conversations hours shorter than usual, not coming in to say hi,” she was listing evidence on her fingers.

“Okay, okay I get it.” You threw your hands up in surrender.

Robin raised an eyebrow waiting for your explanation.

“Look, you know I have feelings for him. I’ve just been… Thinking about it lately and how I need to move on.”

“Move on? Why?”

“He obviously doesn’t feel the same wa-“

You were cut off by Robin’s laughter.

“What is so funny to you?”

“You really think that dingus isn’t head over heels in love with you too?”

“Woah woah woah first off I never said I was-“

“Oh you don’t have to.”

“Can you please stop cutting me off?”

“Can you please stop being so oblivious? Steve has been sitting there for the past three days sitting there rewinding tapes and watching that front door line a goddamn hawk. He misses you y/n.” This was probably the softest you’ve ever heard Robin talk.

“I know he cares about me. I know we’re close. And I don’t wanna lose him. But I’m tired Robin. I’m tired of reading into every little thing he does and trying to make my feelings obvious to him when I know he doesn’t feel the same way!” You spoke softly at first, but then your voice betrayed you. Cracking at the end as you raised your voice unintentionally.

“I think you need to talk to him. Seriously.” Robin was still speaking softly but she was more stern this time.

“Fat chance.” You mumbled.

“Y/n, I love you, but if you hurt Steve I swear to god… He’s been through enough as it is and you of all people know that. Too many people have left him. I genuinely don’t know what would happen to him if you left him too. He trusts you more than anyone. More than me. More than any of the kids, even Dustin. Don’t fuck this up. Don’t fuck him up.”

And with that, she left. Left your house and left you to think.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On your fourth and final day off you were planning on how to talk to Steve when you worked with him tomorrow. Unfortunately you didn’t get too far when you heard an aggressive knock on your door. You opened it expecting to see Robin.

“Robin I get it I’m going to-“ You stopped as soon as you saw Steve. A very upset looking Steve.

“Y/n I didn’t wanna bother you but this is killing me. I can’t stand not being able to call you and rant about whatever Dustin or Robin did to piss me off that day. I can’t stand not listening to you rant about whatever movie you just watched. I can’t stand not being around you everyday. I don’t even know what I did and I’ve been trying so hard to figure it out but I can’t. I’m sure I did something really fucking stupid per usual, but please tell me what it was so I can fix it.”

“Stevie you didn’t do anything wrong.”

He looked so lost and confused. You gestures for him to come inside. Your parents weren’t home yet.

“Then what- What happened?”

“Fuck.” You muttered and Steve looked so anxious you just wanted to hug him and tell him everything is fine.

“Would you just trust me if I said it’s me and my brain and has nothing to do with anything you did?”

“Y/n that’s not a good enough reason and you know it. Why can’t you just talk to me-“

“I couldn’t stand being so close to you all the time knowing how strongly I’m in love with you okay! And knowing you don’t feel the same.” You didn’t mean to blurt it out like that. But there it was. And you couldn’t take it back.

“How would you know that i don’t feel the same?”

“Because why would you?” You laughed like he just offended you, “you could have any girl you want. Why on earth would you choose me?”

“Because you actually give a shit about me. You’ve been there for me when my so called friends weren’t. When my parents weren’t. Hell, you were there for me when Nancy wasn’t. You stuck with me even when I was a total asshole-“

“You were never an asshole Steve. Not to me. You know that.”

“And that’s what I love about you. You always see the good in people even when literally everyone else knows- thinks they’re an asshole.”

You couldn’t hold back the tears welling up at this point, “You know how much I hate everyone who made you feel like that right?” You weren’t even upset about exposing your feelings, you were upset over the fact that Steve still sees himself like that sometimes.

“I know. And if it weren’t for you I’d probably never forgive myself for how I was. But you showed me that I’m really not that guy. I’m not that “King Steve” everyone talked about in highschool. If you weren’t there for me throughout that time up until now, I’d still be such a mess.” He chuckled a little. You didn’t find it humorous however.

“Please don’t give me the credit for that. I just pointed out what you already knew was behind those walls. Fuck! I’m so sorry Steve. I know everything you’ve been through I know about all of the assholes who left you and here I am avoiding you for such selfish reasons!” You were fully crying at this point. How could you do what you hated so many others for doing?

Steve just quietly walked up to you and out your face in his hands, wiping the tears, “It’s okay y/n. I’m okay. I didn’t think you were abandoning me. I just thought I’d done something stupid to upset you.”

“I’m still sorry for making you anxious about it. For the record I don’t think you could ever upset me. at least not for more than ten minutes tops.” He laughed which made you smile.

“You know how much I look up to you yeah?”

“Y/n you don’t have to-“

“I know. But I need you to know. I mean I already blurted out that I love you, so I might as well keep going,” you paused to look into his beautiful dark eyes, making sure he absorbs your words, “you’re the most selfless person I know. You’ll do anything from letting someone rant to you for hours over something silly that upset them, throwing yourself into portals to hell. You pay such close attention to people you care about that you know every little tell-tale sign that somethings wrong. You know I get quiet when I’m anxious, you know what sings to play to help Max when she’s in a mood, I think you’re the only person Mike has ever gone to for advice. You’re so-“

Steve must’ve understood your point because suddenly he was cutting you off with a kiss that took you by surprise, but you quickly reciprocated.

“God I love you so much y/n.” He smiled against your lips.

“I love you so much too Steve.”

“Yeah you made that pretty clear.” He chuckled and you playfully slapped his arm.

"What if i kissed you right now?" Please, do! AND HE DID.

That was amazing. When they kissed I really felt a little warm in my heart. Your writing is incredible!

what if? ✧˚ · .

summary: your best friend Steve makes sure you arrive home safe from a party but you ask him to stay. also, he walks in while you’re changing prompt

genre/warnings: best friends in love, fluff, a little of suggestiveness

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“You’re drunk” he declares, grabbing you from under your arm, passing it behind his shoulders and surrounding your waist with his free hand.

“Steve, for the love of god. I barely had two beers. You’re being dramatic” you protested and tried to get rid of his grip. As soon as he felt you move, he held you more firmly, pressing his fingers a little on your waist, exposed because your restlessness made your shirt roll up. You felt butterflies in your stomach and a pleasant warmth a little further down...

“Don’t be stubborn. Let me help you, I don’t care how many beers you had”

You sighed and let him guide you to your bedroom through the darkness of your living room. Even though he’s been at your place so many times, he forgets about the coffee table right next to your bedroom’s door. He trips with it and curses “Shit! Auch!”

A snort escapes your throat and you hide your face in his neck, still laughing. You weren't really drunk, your best friend was acting overly protective when he had had more beer than you, after all. But, anyways, the little alcohol you had consumed made you more mocking than usual. Steve always says that you annoy him with that silly mood you have when you’re not completely sober. Actually he loves it.

“Y/n! I hit my little finger. I’m in pain and you're making fun of me!” He complains, half-serious, half-joking.

“You’re such a baby boy. I can't breathe” you tried to say, but your laughter drowned out your words. Steve did listen the cute way you called him, and blushed while secretly enjoying how your hair tickled his skin.

Those kinds of moments made him want to stay like this forever. They increase his adoration for you but also make him a little sad, because he knows you have so many guys behind you and he thinks he doesn't stand a chance with you. He lives thinking that he has to settle with just being your friend, seeing you as the brightest but most distant star, when in reality you considered yourself his property without needing a title for your special bond, because you love everything that his being represents for you.

You’ve been standing there laughing like idiots right outside your room for a while longer than necessary, as if you’ve heard the best joke in the world instead of laughing over something stupid. But it was like that with Steve, even the dumbest and simplest moments became unparalleled memories. With him everything was so natural and pleasant without too much effort. With him, the small things weren’t small, injecting your heart with warm doses of happiness every time you see his beautiful smile crinkle the corners of his eyes.

Out of nowhere, when the laughter was fading into the silence of the empty apartment, you were surprised with the feeling of two hands grabbing the inside of your legs and suddenly Steve lifted you off the ground, carrying you with his arm securing you on your back .

"Let’s get you to rest, honey. It’s late"

You giggle and grab the edge of his shirt, giving you stability. The closeness burning your skin exquisitely and the smell of alcohol mixed with his perfume which you yourself had bought for him was making you dizzy in the most charming way possible. As if Steve was your own personalized drug, your biggest weakness and your greatest dream.

He finally opens the door, struggling with the bundle and then kicking it to get inside. He walks slowly and bends over to deposit you on your bed delicately, as if you were a fragile and very expensive porcelain doll or a shiny gemstone.

You immediately missed his warmth and scent and got up supporting yourself with your arms extended behind on the mattress at the same time that he sat sideways on the bed. You skirt slid up a bit, revealing more of your thigh. The detail did not go unnoticed neither for him nor for you, both looking down, your cheeks hot. You weren't wearing any shorts underneath and you weren't sure if from his angle he could see more than he should, but he cautiously reached for your leg and you tensed, not knowing what to expect. He realized you froze, and moved even slower, taking the edge of the skirt and adjusting it without leaving your shaking gaze.

His subtle gesture and how his eyes seemed to deepen your soul, stole your words and electrified your bones. That kind of gaze that threatened to get tattooed in the most hidden of your thoughts. You’re not usually nervous around him, because he’s your comfort zone and even though you feel attracted to him, everything’s always been so organic between the two of you. But now his fingers tracing slow circles on your thigh felt like dancing stars, and his hair falling on his forehead was torturing your willpower, which was conflicted between kissing him or ensuring that your friendship with him remained intact.

It had been a while since the last time you had so eagerly wanted to kiss him, but you were sure that this time everything was much more intense. Maybe the late hour, the tiredness and the beer were playing cupid all together.

“I’m gonna get changed” you told him, balancing your eyes between his touch and his face, low voice as if the atmosphere of intimacy could be broken.

He leaned back, lengthening the space between you against your will. "So I brought you to your bed with a bridal-style entrance so you just told me you were planning to change?" He claimed you with false offense. He cut the tension in the air, replacing it with the familiar silly energy that characterized you both.

You giggled looking down, to then glance at him again, your eyelashes doing that subtle maneuver that made him lose all of his confidence, melting at your feet.

"I'm sorry Romeo, but you know how much I hate sleeping in makeup. Anyway," you squeezed his cheek briefly as you stood up, "the entrance was memorable”.

Steve was grinning like a fool, playing with your sheets underneath him while he waited for you to come out of the bathroom. Different scenarios fluttered through his mind, your name being the protagonist in each of those tiny movies that were built in his imagination.

You’ve been friends for a long time but no matter how many people appeared, his heart belonged to you. He had had opportunity with multiple girls, one prettier and more charismatic than the previous one, but none of them made him feel a quarter of what you did.

None had a voice as sweet and intoxicating as yours, none jumped in his arms despite having seen him in the last 24 hours as you do, none cooked such good pancakes as yours. No one could be as perfect as you, and that screwed up his existence because he wanted you so much and did not dare to risk what you had.

The boy had been distracted, lost in himself, when you came out of the bathroom. But to his surprise, you weren't fully dressed. Pajama shorts showing the edges of your buttocks and nothing on top. Tits in the air.

"Hey!" you screamed unprepared as soon as you set a foot outside the bathroom, on the carpet of your room. Steve's eyes rested for a microscopic second on your breasts before you covered yourself with your hands.

"OH! OH! I'M HERE" Steve yelled in a high-pitched voice, moving quickly as if looking for something to do and finally covering his eyes like a small child. As if he had never seen a woman in his life. "I- er- I’m sorry. Didn’t see anything, I promise”. That’s a lie.

"Steve! I thought you had left! Everything was so quiet, I didn't hear anything"

"I- I was quiet, distracted. Sorry"

You melted with tenderness seeing him there, with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands timidly covering his face. He looked so vulnerable, embarrassed and... God, he was so cute.

"You can open your eyes now, idiot"

"Oh, yeah, yeah. Right" he blinked a few times and raised his head, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably.

"Could you pass me that shirt?" you pointed to the chair at your desk. He got up immediately and went to grab it for you, handing it to you in silence. From there, he could see your reflection in the bathroom mirror, your bare back and your thick legs recently shaved for the party you just went to.

He didn't have the slightest knowledge in art history, but for some reason with the shape of your back and the softness it showed, it seemed to him that you had come out of a painting from the romanticism era, that deserved to be protected in a museum delighting with its spectacular appearance.

“Thank you. You can put this one on the chair. It’s too tight to sleep with it” you said softly, handing him the shirt that you picked at first.

It wasn’t long until you came out -now fully dressed-, and found Steve looking through your window, hair a little messy and his expression sleepy. He turned with his hands on his pockets and yawned as you climbed to your bed, adjusting pillows behind your head.

“I better be going. ‘S late” he mumbles.

“Stevie, you can spend the night here. I don’t mind. And I can make pancakes for breakfast” you launch the last words with a particular tone to sweeten him with your invitation. He grins and balances in his feet.

“You know, I’m kind of tired to sleep in your couch. I’ll rest better in my bed. Let’s leave it for later, ok?”

All the times you had slept in each other's house, you had slept apart, respecting a certain distance despite being such friends. There was enough trust, but the mutual attraction made sleeping together a tense idea.

You bit your tongue for one second and the next you straightened up. You couldn't get it out of your mind how his cheeks blushed when he barely looked at your breasts, or how warm that made you feel. You wanted to say something, because you didn't want him to leave. Your nerves tried to pull you back but an inner voice told you those nerves were not enough reason to stay stiff and not allow yourself what you wished. Then, you opened your mouth and before rethinking you spat:

“You can sleep with me”

You didn't realize how your words came out until his neck jerked in your direction, eyes wide and mouth set in a serious fine line.

You laughed awkwardly running your hands over your face "I mean, we can share the bed". You didn't know if that had sounded better or worse.

"Oh, no no. I understood you, don't worry" he cleared his throat.

God, why was everything so tense tonight? you thought. He swallowed so hard that you could see the movement of his Adan’s apple even when he was so far away from you. “I think I still have your green pants if you wanna use ’em”

He nodded. “Sure. I forgot you're a thief when it comes to my clothes” he said with a smirk, taking off his shirt.

Shit shit shit.

You’ve seen him so many times shirtless but this time was different, like it meant more. This burning wanting that’s been creasing up in you tonight was playing with your self control. He crawled into your bed after getting changed, comfortable and grabbing a glass of water for you, because he knows you like to have one on the table beside your bed if you get thirsty in the middle of the night.

The mattress sinking lower than normal beside you as he supported his weight and turned toward you on his side. "You'll have to share your blanket tonight" he teased you. You pulled the blanket over his face and he pulled it back with laughter.

"And you will have to control your sleep talking. You scare me"

Steve comes a little closer to you and wraps his arm around you, gently stroking from your shoulder to your wrist over and over again.

You allowed yourself to close your eyes for a moment, just enjoying the relaxation of his display of affection. You weren't even the type to love being touchy with people, but with Steve you adored physical contact. With him everything felt like a beautiful summer day, a field of flowers or a perfectly sweetened coffee in the morning.

"Do you want me to scratch your back?" As soon as you drop the offer, he grinned and hummed in response. He turned around to give you better access and you started gently scratching at his skin, using his dark moles scattered everywhere to unite them with your fingernails, forming imaginary constellations that you had previously memorized.

He sighed with pleasure, crazy with the incredible sensation and the patience with which you did it. He wouldn’t want to be in any other place than there, between your love, your sheets and the soft aroma of the vanilla candle that rested on your desk.

“Wanna play what if?” He suddenly says, raspy and distant voice due he was giving you his back.

“Ok” you agreed. That was like your personal game with him, the one you always played when you were bored or wanted to have interesting conversations. It never failed, and over time it has become your thing. Probably you would get offended if he played it with someone else. That would be betraying a deal that’s never been made.

He started the game. “What if…” he remained silent, thinking. “What if you had to choose between being a horse or a cow?”

You snorted at how absurd that first question was.

“What?” he was genuinely confused with your reaction.

“I was kind of expecting a deeper question” you explained, your cheeks hurting from laughing.

He made a noise of annoyance. “We’ll get there, honey. Don’t be such a complainer. Answer and that’s it"

"In a vegan world or...?"

"What the fuck, y/n" he laughed hard and his back moved under your hands.

"Just asking"

"In a non-vegan world or whatever. Don't think about it so much, cow or horse?"

You knew your answer, but you pretended to deliberate it for a few moments to create expectation.

"Horse. They have better hair and good legs"

He turned again until he was in the same position as before, facing each other, eyes barely visible in the dim light. He was so beautiful you couldn’t tolerate it.

"Okay. Your turn"

You timidly began to play with the hair on his chest. It was an impulse, something you wouldn't do if you were more aware of your actions and their repercussions. You noticed that he tensed a bit but he didn't push you away, he was just surprised at your decisive gesture.

“What if you found a way to become rich very quickly but it is completely illegal?”

“Ok, em- my question was kinda dumb compered to yours” he admits, gaze falling to your neck.

You smirk and put a hair strand behind your ear.

“Well,” he starts “considering that I’ve been in another dimension and I’ve fought with supernatural creatures, I don’t think getting caught by the police scares me anymore. I’d do it”

You hummed. “Fair. I accept your logic”

“Thanks, ma’am” he nodded.

It was his turn to ask, but he was quiet without continuing with the game. It wasn't that he was distracted or thinking about what to ask, as you thought had happened. In fact, he knew well what he could say next, but he also knew that it could permanently change the course not only of the dynamic but of everything he had considered safe in his entire life.

Steve took your hand that was still playing on his chest and laced his fingers between yours, gently but firmly, drawing little patterns on the back and taking a deep breath before saying:

"What if i kissed you right now?" his voice was no longer the confident one he used to show everyone. He sounded somewhat unstable, testing the ground.

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Your heart was going to explode in your chest from how fast it was beating, so strong that surely he could hear it too.

His eyes went from penetrating yours to perch on your lips, half open temptingly calling him. You were so close. That close that you didn’t want to breath strongly, acting so carefully. “What would you do then?" he rumbled, words getting warmer and warmer as he leaned even closer, pressing you to his chest.

"I- I think..." you were shaking, but he was dying to have your answer and you were trying to please him "I- I think I’d kiss you back"

That was all Steve wanted to hear from you, a simple permission that would grant him the chance to cut the few inches that were separating you and finally relieve the tension that has built up for so long, but has felt specially more evident that precise night.

He brushed your lower lip with his thumb as a last warning before kissing you. You almost moaned against his mouth. It wasn't a rough kiss, but you could feel his desperation in the way he pressed you towards him. He needed the air you breathed. It belonged to him and after so much he has it in his possession, only for him to enjoy his divinity. Your divinity.

This was your first real kiss together, which was nothing compared to those silly pecks playing spin the bottle or doing any stupid dare.

That kiss was a long-awaited miracle, a shared secret, a collapse of emotions. As if the puzzle pieces of the entire universe fit together with the joining of your mouths.

You were both consumed with the sensation of your skins touching everywhere and your flavors mixing in a tuned dance of tongues.

You had wasted too much time believing you didn't reciprocate your feelings, when both craved for each other's attention hungrily. Neither of you had the slightest idea of ​​how many times you had thought about the other at the same time, imagining the situation in which you were involved in that exact moment.

After considerable seconds, you parted just long enough to recover, gasping for breath and not able to speak properly.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time" he stammered with a loving smile and pressed his forehead to yours.

That night you slept in the arms you’ve been wanting forever and woke up the next morning with the man you’ve been crushing on since you have memory, wishing it would always stay like that, so you never have to say goodbye to that pretty smile, that hair and that mischievous sparkle Steve Harrington, your best friend, had.

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feedback and reblogs are always appreciated <3

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🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

Absolutely perfect, amazing 😍

Prompt: They’re doing something stupid, and somehow, you find yourself thinking that this is the person you want to spend the rest of your life with! w/ Steve, reader realizes it while he's doing something stupid/dumb for the kids or risking his life like always lol.

oh steve, you got it lovie <3

warnings: this one's a longer one, being pulled underwater, bat attacks in the upside down, passing out, not proofread

❀ masterlist ❀

"you're not going by yourself," you said when you stood up in the boat, making it sway a little under you all. nancy, robin, and eddie watched steve to see what he'd say. they knew you weren't going to let him go alone, but they also knew he wasn't going to give in that easily. 

"we already established that i'm the most qualified," he countered and he was hoping you'd bypass that you were just as qualified as he was. 

"don't forget that i was a lifeguard for just as long as you were and i too was captain of the hawkins high girls' swim team. we're going together." you'd put your foot down and steve knew that even if he said no, you'd jump in after him anyway. 

"fine, okay, come on." he began to pull off his sweatshirt and you took off yours as well, leaving him bare-chested and you in your bra and cami. he dove first with the plastic-bag-wrapped flashlight that eddie supplied and you followed soon after into the water. steve led the way toward a red glow that was coming from the bottom of the lake. 

you had to admit that you were intrigued but you weren't sure how close you should get to it. what if it was like a vacuum and sucked you guys in? what if was really hot like lava and accidentally burned you? what if you touched it and the lake split open? or what if you got stuck and drowned? 

steve wasn't being as precautious as you were about it and you watched as he reached his hand out toward it. you tried to signal him to stop but he'd already touched it before he saw you. you couldn't see what happened, but he backed away, dropping the flashlight in the process before moving to grab your hand and swim up. 

"you're an idiot," was the first thing out of your mouth after you resurfaced. 

nancy sighed as you and steve both grabbed onto the boat's edge. "what did he do?"

"touched the glowing red thing down there."

"there's a glowing red thing down there?" eddie asked in curiosity. this was his first rodeo with this kind of thing so he wasn't sure what he was to expect. 

"yes and this doofus touched it," you scolded him. you loved him, but he sure was stupid sometimes. 

while steve tried to defend himself, you inwardly cringed as you realized what you just thought. you loved steve harrington. he was stupid, reckless, an idiot, all of the above, but there was no one else you'd rather have in your life. there was no one else you could see yourself with in the future. in whatever scenario that played out in your head, steve was by your side. was that a scary thought? yes, but did it also put you at ease? yes.

"y/n, you good?" steve asked, placing a hand on your shoulder to get your focus on him. 

"uh, yeah. i just-" your words were cut off when you felt a tug at your foot that pulled you under for a second and then let go when you kicked it with your other foot. "steve," you called nervously when you surfaced again, worried eyes meeting his. before he could ask you anything, you were tugged under again and the boy wasted no time in following you, reaching out for you as you held out your hands for him. 

you were tugged through the glowing red portal of sorts and whatever had a hold on you tossed you into what looked like hawkins, but was far worse than the one you were used to. steve came barreling through after you but before you could relax upon his presence, a cloud of bats was headed your way over the woods. 

steve moved to get an oar to fight with while you moved to your feet and stood near him, looking for something to use as a weapon but coming up dry. you heard steve swinging at the oncoming bats behind you and turned to see one coming for you. time wasn't on your side and neither was luck because as you swatted that one away, more came up. 

there were just too many for you and steve to handle alone. you grabbed the tail of one and swung it around to hit the others, but a few slipped through your swinging. one wrapped its tail around your throat and tightened its grip, causing you to let go of the one you had been using as a weapon and reach up to get this one off of you. 

the tiny thing wouldn't let up and just when you felt like you were getting somewhere in terms of getting it off, another came over and sunk its teeth into the flesh of your thigh. you let out a strained yelp at the action and let one of your hands drop from the bat's tail that continued to squeeze around your neck to the one on your leg in an attempt to get it off. 

when you looked down at the one gnawing at your thigh, you caught a glimpse of steve in a similar predicament except instead of a bat on his thigh, he had two on either of his sides. his eyes met yours and you mouthed an 'i love you' when the tail tightened even further around your neck. 

"no!" he shouted. this couldn't be the end, not yet. but your vision got spotty and soon, you passed out.

when you came to, you thought you had died and gone to hell, but you were still in the upside down, just not where you were when the world went dark. your body ached, specifically your throat, head, and left leg, and you were tired. tears stung your eyes at the pain and fatigue you felt. you didn't want to be here. you didn't want to be dealing with this again. you didn't want this to be happening. 

you were leaning against a boulder and looked around to see if anyone was around. you heard voices but didn't see a soul. you were scared to speak in case the voices weren't of your friends, but then you moved a little to see robin. 

"rob?" you called out and she turned to you, revealing eddie by her side. the tears gave way to the happiness you felt. you weren't alone and your friends were here. then, came steve when he saw them looking at you. his abdomen was wrapped and he looked worse for wear, but you had never seen the boy so relieved. seeing him only progressed the tears. you thought he had died. you thought you had died. you were still in this hell but at least you had him with you. 

"i told you not to touch it," you told him when his arm circled your waist. yours went around his shoulders so that you didn't hurt him. 

"i know," he whispered, calming you with his hand on your head to hold you to him. he thought he lost you. he would never let you go again. he pulled back and let his hands cup your cheeks when he continued to talk. "but you're okay though, right?"

"as good as i can be," you responded. your eyes fell to your leg, now wrapped in what looked like that shirt robin had on over her sweater earlier. "what's the game plan? i'm exhausted."

"well, the bats are guarding the entrance so we're a little stuck. but, we're gonna go to the wheeler's to get some weapons so we can fight them and go back through." you nodded along to his words and held your hands out to him for him to help you up.

"are you okay?" you inquired when you came face to face with his chest. you'd been close to steve before, but this felt different, more intimate. your eyes fell to his lips before coming back to his eyes. he wanted to try to ignore it but he couldn't. 

steve surged forward and pressed his lips to yours. you were frozen, still surprised and processing what was going on. just as you went to reciprocate, steve pulled back. "wait, is this okay?"

"shut up," you mumbled and brought his lips back to yours with your hand on the back of his head, your fingers threading through his locks. 

nancy wore a gentle smile and robin rolled her eyes as they watched you. eddie commented what they were all thinking, "it's about damn time."

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I normally don't read fanfics written in first person, but this one is amazing. I really liked it.

Steve retouching y/n's makeup was cute 🥹

SUNGLASSES AND LIPSTICK STAINS (part I/III)

Summary: after having his heart torn in half at Tina's party, Steve finds comfort in the most unexpected person. Who would have guessed he would develop such a strong connection with someone he's barely spoken to?

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Genre: angst (hurt/comfort)

Tags:

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @comfort-reads

Warnings: language, mentions of alcohol, Steve breaking down because that needs a tw.

A/N: taking creative liberty to a) move the release of 'Like A Virgin' Studio Album to September of '84, and b) make Steve and Nancy fall apart a bit earlier for the sake of the plot. It does have a second part, but they can be read separately. That said, enjoy <3.

Part II

Part III

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

Don't cry don't cry don't cry, I begged myself, stalking out of the boisterous house with my thumb and index rubbing away the tears. Don't cry here, I repeated, not at Tina's fucking pre-Halloween party.

October's sharp air cut through my lungs, making me choke up. Maybe the drastic change of temperature wasn't to blame, maybe it was the lump in my throat I was desperately trying to swallow.

She didn't love me.

Gnawing on my lip harsh enough to draw blood, I put the sunglasses back on in an attempt to hide the inevitably shed droplets of salty water spilling from my lids —though they were dried by the light yet freezing wind as soon as they fell.

A part of my mind was begging me to give Nancy the benefit of the doubt, but weren't drunk words sober thoughts?

Drunk words. As stupid as it may have sounded, it hadn't dawned on me. She was hammered.

I had abandoned a completely wasted Nancy in a stranger's bathroom, alone in a house full of people like Billy Hargrove. God, I was the worst.

"Shit."

My eyes darted a tentative glance at the house over my shoulder before being casted down to stare at my shoes. I had to do it, didn't I? Or I could just walk away.

Breathe in, breathe out.

I could just get into my car and leave.

Breath in.

"Fuck." Sniffling, I turned heel and jogged to the backyard's door I had just walked through in search of a breather.

Navigating the crowd of sweaty, intoxicated highschool students was much easier the second time. Although I was grateful for not having to shove my way back to what had been my starting point, I didn't like one bit the way everyone seemed to spare me pitiful looks when I passed by.

Gosh I didn't want to do it —I really didn't want to— but still my trembling hand knocked on the closed bathroom door.

"Nance?" I hated how my voice so obviously cracked at the nickname. "Nance, open up." I pleaded, leaning my defeated form on the door frame.

A couple of seconds passed. Still no response.

"Nancy." I tried again, my patience running shorter each time the girl didn't reply to my calls. So short that I decided I wouldn't wait for her to turn the knob. "Jesus, Nance, can you—"

I froze at the now clear entrance; my mushed brain refused to fully process that the reason why Nancy was not listening to my request was because she was, in fact, not there anymore.

And what were the odds —genuinely, what were the fucking odds— that the tiny window facing the front yard was perfectly situated for me to see Jonathan Byers helping Nancy climb into his Ford LTD's passenger seat.

That was it, that was what it took. My body allowed me just enough time to shut myself into the bathroom before breaking down.

After sitting down —or more like falling—on the cold tiles, everything was a blur of shoulders spasming and heart pounding in my ears so loud that it prevented me from hearing my own sobs.

In the span of a year, my life had changed drastically —technically for the better, but I had lost my closest friends and pretty much everything that was familiar to me. I got by just fine because I had Nancy, and now she was most likely gone too.

I was alone. Again.

My fingers tangled and tugged at my roots in an attempt to ground myself. I had to— I needed to get a solid grasp of reality, get up, and walk to my car.

I was barely succeeding in pulling myself back together the best I could when the third mistake of the night came to bite me in the ass; I hadn't put the latch on.

READER'S P. O. V.

"Wait!" Samantha's fingers pinched dangerously tight the cheap white lace of my fingerless glove, which gained her a slap on the back of her hand. "Ouch! Where you going?! You just came back!"

"I need a makeup retouch!" I yelled over the party's racket, pushing my friend's grasp off me. "I'll be back in a minute!" I assured her, walking backwards in the bathroom's general direction. "Pinky promise!" Giving the girl an apologetic smile, my digits found the knob at my back and gave it a swift twist.

I didn't even realize I wasn't alone until I was fully inside the room with the door locked behind me.

"Oh my gosh— Sorry! I-" I frowned at how quickly the slouched form dressed in black raised to his feet and transformed into a fairly put together Steve Harrington, sunglasses on, chin up and hands on his hips, as if I hadn't walked in on him crying. "Didn't know... There was someone. Are you good?"

"Yup, don't worry, I was about to get going." He mumbled in a hoarse voice, rubbing his nose as he shifted his weight from one foot to another. "Uhm can I—" his index finger vaguely motioned at the door my back rested against.

"S-sure, yeah." I stepped further into the narrow space, clearing the way the best I could manage for the boy to leave.

He didn't leave right away though; instead, he stopped before me and parted his lips, drawing in a small breath as if he planned on voicing a thought, but nothing came out.

Maybe whatever booze Tina had put on that bowl at the kitchen counter was messing with me, but for an instant, I actually felt... bad for Steve Harrington.

"You uh... Came with Nancy Wheeler right?" I recalled seeing them dancing earlier and, thanks to the awkwardness my malfunctioning mind was putting me through, I completely missed the way he flinched at Nancy's mention. "I can— I can go get her if you want."

"Good luck finding her." A weak, rueful laugh accompanied Steve's sentence as he allowed his frame to lean on the wall opposed to me.

Apparently, he had no actual plans of leaving the bathroom, and it just didn't feel right to get out and let him be on his own, so I chose to tiptoe around the topic to at least get some answers.

"The damsel in distress left without her knight in shining armor?" It was a half mock I didn't bother to hide. After all, I had never been too fond of neither Steve nor Nancy, so no matter how well-intentioned I was, some bitterness was doomed to slip out.

Luckily, the boy seemed to take it with humor, choosing to not only indulge the poor analogy, but also taking on it himself. "Oh no, she left with him actually." He puckered his lips, giving me a couple of rapid nods followed by a resentful chuckle. "Yeah he's the knight in shining armor, I'm just bullshit."

"Jesus, Harrington." I whispered, my sympathy for the boy growing exponentially. I had a slight idea of who said knight in shining armor was, and if my suspicions were correct, what Steve Harrington was playing was a losing game.

"Am I that bad?" He questioned in a reedy voice.

"I... don't know?" It was surprisingly heartbreaking to not be capable of reassure him. "I just know you're a popular kid that sucks at history."

"But I'm not— do I look like a shitty person, like, from an outside perspective?"

'Yes' would be the truth, but the truth wasn't going to help anyone. "I don't know, Steve." I shrugged, grasping onto the edge of the sink's counter behind me. "For what's worth, since you parted ways with Hagan and Perkins, you come across like uhh... Like a better person?"

"I'll take that as a compliment, I guess." He announced, running his fingers through his tousled hair before shoving both hands into his pockets. "Thanks, Y/n."

"Oh, wow." I breathed out a genuinely surprised laugh, tilting my head to the side. "you know my name."

"What d'you mean? We were in like" one of Steve's hands left his pocket to aimlessly gesture around. "What? three group projects together? And that's just this year. How could I not remember your name?"

"I mean— okay, fair, but you're Steeeve Harrington." I leaned forward while dramatically dragging his first name. This, for some reason, seemed to genuinely amuse him; I caught a glimpse of his half smile before he averted his gaze from me. "King of Hawkins High and shit. Didn't really expect you to remember my name."

He snorted at my latter quote, the tension visibly heaving on his shoulders slowly dissipating the more we talked. "You're pretty memorable. Specially considering that you yelled at me for not arriving on time. Several times." He remarked, mimicking my motions, back separating from the wall in order to briefly bend over.

"Sorry 'bout that." An apology wouldn't have been my preferred choice of words in any other scenario, but the moment didn't really call for a witty comeback.

"It's okay, I deserved it." He responded, retreating to his initial position.

What followed was an uncomfortable silence that begged to be broken, but I had only so much to talk about with Steve Harrington.

"I should head o—"

"I like your costume." Either his comment was louder, or he was too in his head to process mine on time. "Sorry, what?"

"Nothing." I found myself dismissing my own announcement in favor of exploiting another topic. "I didn't take you for a Madonna fan."

"Why? The woman's smoking hot, and she got some bangers." His genuineness twisted up the corner of my lips in a confused smile. That was certainly not how I had expected my night to go, but so far I was oddly pleased.

"I like yours." I bobbed my head at his clothing choice. "Risky Business?" He hummed affirmatively, a tinge of pride making his chest swell. "Nice. Can I try on the sunglasses?"

"Uh... Sure."

Hesitance could be read in his body language whilst handing me the glasses. As soon as I got a hold of them, he immediately casted his head down, fixing his gaze on his shoes.

I spun around to face the mirror, deciding not to bring attention to his avoidant demeanor. "What do we think?" I questioned instead in a lighthearted, almost joking tone after putting on the sunglasses. "I personally think they make me look cool."

Steve peeped at me through his still watery lashes and the ghost of a small smile fighting to bring some light to his face. "You look cool."

"Nice try but nope, it's definitely the glasses." I countered, using my middle finger to slide them down my nose enough for my eyes to be visible. "They make a pretty good job of blocking the view, don't they?"

"They do." He muttered.

After catching his eyes on the reflection once more, I did an 180 and hopped on the marble countertop.

"First heartbreak?"

"And last." Steve's brows rose as he distractedly kicked the tiles.

"You know it's completely okay to cry, right?" He huffed, so I insisted on the matter. "Everyone's wasted anyway, you don't need these." My fingernail tapped on the plastic arm of the complement.

"Y/n," Steve scoffed, pushing himself off the wall to approach me. "I have uhhh a reputation." He stated with wide eyes and raised brows and, in the midst of trying to figure out whether or not he meant it as a joke, I found myself cackling. "Are you laughing at me?" He inquired with an outraged frown that I, again, didn't know if I should take seriously.

"I don't know, am I?"

"You better not." He barely had to reach out his fingertips to take the sunglasses from me, which made me suddenly aware of how close he stood. "I'm already sensitive."

"My apologies." I whispered with an amused smile, leaning back on my hands to put some more inches between us.

"As I was saying before you decided to be rude," he made a stop to place back on his sunglasses. "I have a reputation." His hand came to rest by my thigh on the counter. "So there's no way in hell anyone in here is seeing me shed a single tear."

"I just saw you sob, though." I teased with a quirked brow.

"I'll allow that because you've put up with me for" he brought his wrist up to his face as if he was about to check his wristwatch. "A long ass while. I'm sorry for keeping you here."

"It's not like you're keeping me captive," I nodded at the door, briefly redirecting Steve's attention to it. "I could've left."

"Yeah, but you didn't."

"Because I didn't do what I came here for yet." I explained, pointing at my face. "I was supposed to retouch my makeup."

"Why?" I felt the embarrassing urge to whine when Steve pushed himself off the sink. "It looks good to me." He stated in a confused tone, pushing his sunglasses up to rest on his head.

"You need glasses. Like, actual glasses," I declared, scrunching my nose. "'cause you're blind."

He puffed out a jaunty 'oh c'mon', which made a smile creep up my visage. Had I just managed to cheer him up?

"You wanna have a laugh before leaving the bathroom?"

"What do you have in mind?"

Steve's eyes notably widened when I pulled up the side of my white layered tulle skirt, which sent me into a fit of giggles while I fished out my mini makeup palette from my thigh high, and consecutively extended my arm to hand it to him.

"Fix my makeup, pretty boy."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

STEVE'S P. O. V.

No matter how many times Y/n had assured me I could mess it up and she wouldn't mind because 'it's a Halloween party anyway', I still tried to do my absolute best, which obviously required a very slow process for something Y/n could have probably finished herself in a couple of minutes.

"Stay still."

Knocknocknock!

"IT'S OCCUPIED!" The girl shouted, making me yank her face back to me by holding her cheeks.

After the second person who walked in on me attempting to retouch Y/n's makeup, we had decided to put the latch on the door.

"I'm struggling here, Y/n," I absentmindedly informed her, words coming out muffled by the lipstick I held between my teeth while I tilted her chin up. "so if you could please stop moving—"

"Steve, I appreciate the dedication, but you're taking forever." she quipped in a lighthearted manner.

"Excuse me, but I believe you told me to fix up your makeup, not to ruin it." I riposted before blowing away the surplus dust from the brown eyeshadow I had just finished applying. "Okay, we reached the critical point." I announced, putting down the compact case to take the red lipstick bar from my mouth.

"Okay wait!" Y/n, who had until then been lolling on the countertop, sat upright and wrapped her fingers around both my wrists. "Now I want you to take it easy. This lipstick" she shook my right wrist. "Is a menace. You gotta be careful."

"Pfffft I got this," I assured her with regained confidence I had thought lost when I first entered the bathroom. "trust me."

"Alright, I'm trusting you." Her hands released mine and went to rest on her lap.

"But you can't move."

"I won't."

"And you can't talk." I reminded her, holding her jaw still with one hand while the other held the lipstick a couple of inches away from her lips.

"Okay." Our voices had gradually gotten lower until hers became a barely audible whisper, followed by a silence filled only with the distant sound of Psycho Killer playing in the living room.

Slowly but surely, Y/n's plump lips were carefully coated in a deep shade of red. Blinded by self-assurance and the incomprehensible wish to prorogue my time standing inches away from her, I resolved to do a second layer.

Not even halfway through the process, the bar slipped down. "Shit!"

"Steeeve, that's not my lip." She singsonged with a growing grin that made my task much difficult for more than one reason.

"I know. wait, I think can fix it— stop smiling!"

"I'm sorry!"

"I'll fuck it up even more! Damn it, Y/n." I took a deep breath, straightening my back in order to release some tension. "hold on."

Cradling her cheeks to make sure she was kept in place, I brushed the red beneath her lower lip with my thumb, slightly parting it from her upper one as a consequence.

The mistake was quickly fixed, but I was unable to let go. There was definitely something mesmerizing about that shade of red, I figured after finding myself repeating the previous motion with my thumb, this time with a featherlight touch.

"I fixed it." I struggled to find my voice and release Y/n's face, but I managed. Had I not known better, I'd have sworn she sighed when my hands switched her skin for the countertop. "You wanna... Uh... Check?"

"Sure." I didn't have time to take a step back before being frozen in place by her motions; instead of turning around to look at the mirror, she pulled my sunglasses down to my nose and checked herself in the reflection.

The sunglasses must have done an excellent job of blocking the view, because Y/n seemed completely unaware of how my eyes had latched onto her lips and wouldn't let go.

"I'm impressed, Harrington." She commented, returning the sunglasses to my head without a warning.

It took me a second too long to lift my gaze from the red lipstick.

"Steve?"

I wanted to voice my thoughts —I really did—, but my exhaustion only permitted me to act on impulse.

A muted gasp escaped Y/n's throat when I lunged forward to press my lips to hers, which made me realize how stupid that decision had been.

Just as I began to pull away, Y/n's lace covered palm found it's way to my cheekbone, sliding into my hair as soon as my own hands landed on her hips, bringing her upper body closer to mine.

I wouldn't be able to tell whether it lasted two seconds or two minutes, but it felt way too short.

"Okay" her soft panting fanned over my parted lips. "Okay we can't— this—" she puffed, shaking her head 'no' as she leaned back. "We can't do that."

In my haze and my neediness, I could only ask, "W-why?"

"Because" she contorted to the side to reach for a wet towel laying near the sink. "You're dating Nancy Wheeler—"

"I don't know about that."

"and" she went on, shushing me with her index finger before attempting to remove the red mess her lipstick had made on my mouth and around. "I have to see her nearly every afternoon." She might have noticed my confused visage, because, with a sigh, she explained further. "My little brother is best friends with Mike."

"Henderson." My brows raised so high they met my hairline. It had taken me a hot minute to put two and two together. "Holy shit."

"Holy shit." She agreed, giving me a soft push so she could jump down the sink. "Now, I don't particularly like Nancy, but I don't know if I'd be able to look at her in the eye after..."

"Fair point. Jesus, I'm sorry." I groaned, taking off the glasses to manually comb my hair in an anxious manner. "I shouldn't— I didn't even think-"

"No, it's okay."

"No—"

"Steve—"

A loud bang on the door made us both jolt on the spot.

"Y/N! I'M GOING HOME, AND I'M LEAVING WITH OR WITHOUT YOU!"

"Fuck— COMING SAM!" I watched as Y/n's skirt twirled gracefully when she checked herself in the mirror, trying to fix her lipstick before making her way to the door. "I... Guess I'll see you around?" She tentatively asked, sparing me an apologetic glance over her shoulder with her fingers already around the knob.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll... See you around."

She gave me a small wave before unlocking the door and leaving it ajar after sneaking out of the bathroom.

I couldnt help but let out a quiet laugh at the snippet of conversation I caught from both girls.

"He really touched up your makeup up, didn't he?"

"Shut up or I'll murder you with my bare hands."

Omg. It's hot in here, no?

I didn't think you'd do it

If you had the chance to make out with Steve Harrington - would you take it? Pairing: Steve Harrington x f!reader Word count: 1,262 Warnings: A bit of swearing, alcohol consumption.

Not only did he scoot himself closer to you, he also playfully and confidently swung his arm behind you, casually resting it on the backrest of the sofa. You sat very still and couldn't breathe properly at the moment. The mixture of his strong scented cologne and his warm sweet breath near your skin almost made you pass out of dizziness. It was intoxicating, and it hit you. It hit you so fucking hard.

"What's it gonna be?" Steves raspy voice made you snap out of your almost hypnotized state, and you turned your head to look at him. Your lips parted automatically at the sight of him, and you did everything in your power to not exclaim a deep sigh. God, you were basically eye-fucking him right now. His brown eyes were darker than normal. Not that you noticed that kind of things about him of course. Why - why would you do that? It wasn't like you had a huge crush on him or anything.

You didn't.

Did you?

Steve smiled and bit his bottom lip while his eyes wandered down to your mouth.

This was your chance. Probably your only chance to actually kiss Steve fucking Harrington. Your whole body shivered with the thought of feeling those perfectly shaped lips on yours.

Screw this.

With a racing heart, you turned to face him and wasted absolutely no time before leaning in to kiss him. But you were no match for Steve. He was well-prepared for your attack and with no hesitation - and a small grin on that beautiful face of his - he grabbed under your thighs and pulled you onto his lap - as if you were as light as a feather. He completely ignored the fact that it was you that was about to make the first move.

"Shit!" you exclaimed and laughed nervously. He caught you off guard. You weren't expecting this to happen and you were a bit surprised by his action. Mostly because you thought this was going to be a cute, innocent kiss. One of those soft ones, that would leave you smiling for a couple of days. Instead you were straddling him, very much aware of how comfortably his thighs was. You were pretty sure this would make you smile for more than just a few days.

"Gotcha" he chuckled and held his hands on your waist to keep you steady. In the hurry you had placed your hands on each side of Steve's head, pressing your palms onto the wall behind him and you tried your very best not to awkwardly fall forward and ruin the moment. It made your faces being dangerously close to each others and you were practically breathing the same air right now.

Steve slid under your shirt and let a few inches of your skin being exposed, still carefully resting his hands on your waist. You let out a small moan when he slightly tightened his grip. The warmth from his hands on your bare skin, along with the almost none-existing distance between your lips, made this whole scenario a thousand times more intense. And you had barely sat on his lap for a hot minute. He leaned towards you, not that the gap between you were that big, but it felt like everything went slowmotion from the moment you realized he was about to kiss you. You closed your eyes and leaned towards him as well.

Finally. Steve's lips on yours, soft as a cloud - God yes, it was one of the soft ones! - with so much tenderness that it felt like your lips almost melted togehter. Every fiber in your body exploded. You got instant lightheaded and without even notice it yourself, you grabbed his thick hair with both hands to stabilize yourself from the overwhelming dizziness which kept creeping up on you.

Once again a moan escaped your mouth unintended, inbetween the soft kisses. This time it was louder, a bit more desperate. You felt your cheeks getting bright red because of the sounds you kept making, but Steve didn't seem to be bothered. If anything, it just made him greedy for more and he groaned eagerly. Steve dug his fingers into your skin, pulled you even closer to him, and before you could react, his tongue was inside your mouth, already fighting your own for dominance.

Stars was showing before your eyes and your heart beated so fucking fast, that you were afraid it would jump out of your chest. The only thing that filled the room was the sounds of your somewhat desperate moans.

Damn how this had escalated quickly.

Steve deepened the kiss, his hands only moving inches up and down your body, but his touches was so definite, that it almost made your body jelly-like. The effect this man had on you was unbelievable and you were effortlessly turned on. In some way it felt so wrong, but at the same time, the only thing you wanted right now was to go further with him.

What if you just…

…wait a minute…

… You opened your eyes, as music started to stream through your ears. The beats from Take on Me filled the room and you were suddenly aware of your surroundings. A bit out of breath, you pulled yourself away from Steve's lips and slowly looked to your left. You noticed that you were still holding a fair grib on Steve's hair, as if it was about to flee, and stopped immediately when you realized that Steve and you were, in fact, not alone.

"Oh. Wauw," someone said. Mortified, you pulled yourself off of Steve's lap and sat next to him without saying anything. You licked your lips unconsciously and felt the warmth from the obvious embarrasement fill your cheeks.

Robin looked at you without even blinking and repeated herself.

"Oh… wauw…"

Steve was kinda disoriented, and just stared out in the room for a solid minute, vaguely smiling.

"I-I think Y/N won the game. Yep. She definitely did," he said.

"It's not like you can actually win 'Truth or Dare', Harrington."

"Let it go, Eddie. I think Steve's right. That was without doubt the best dare played this evening," Robin said, finally snapping out of the baffled state she had been in. Robin smirked at you, and grabbed her beer from the table. "I gotta say. I didn't think you'd do it, Y/N" she laughed and took a sip of the beer, as part of the drinking game you had going on with your friends.

"Uhm. Steve" Eddie said cautiously. Steve looked at him, still a bit lost.

"What?"

Eddie glanced at Steve. To be more precise, his crotch. In his foggy state he didn't knew what was going on. But as soon as he realized what Eddie was trying to say, without actually saying it, Steve started blushing and grabbed the nearest pillow to hide his very obvious enthusiasm.

This evening had been both absolutely amazing, and extremely awful. You couldn't help but think of your poor friends who had just witness you and Steve getting a tad too excited for each other. You also wondered if the music had been playing all along. Did they hear you moan like a fucking porn star? God, you hoped not!

When everyone began to converse, you caught Steve's eye. He smiled mischievously and winked at you, before taking a sip of his beer.

You started thinking this wouldn't be the last time you'd be straddling him. But next time, you would make sure you were alone with Steve fucking Harrington.

YES, SIGNALS. JUST KISS ALREADY!

Okay, now I need a part 2 where they go to the show and confess and kiss 😭😍

honey!! number 11 on the prompt list is so steve coded, don’t ya think??

it so totally is 🥰 11. back hugs

steve h x gn!reader. good ol' pining besties <3

****

"Robin," you sigh. "You're overthinking it."

"Signals, Y/N. People have signals. A hand on your wrist, a secret smile. Signals! Now: was Vickie sending me signals? We have to explore all possibilities. But mostly, the answer is probably no. She just wants to hang."

"She asked you to brunch. People our age do not go to brunch."

"Brunch is classy!"

"Brunch is a breakfast date," you scoff. "Brunch is I want to get a cat with you."

"Well, I think—" Robin groans, glancing over your shoulder. "Oh, God. Heads up. Loverboy, twelve o'clock."

Before you can turn, you're being swept into a warm hug from behind. Steve's cheek presses to yours, his chin tucked in your neck. The tip of his nose is cold from outside as it brushes your jaw. Your heart haywires.

"Steve!" you squeal, his arms around your waist. "What're you doing?"

"You're gonna love me," he says into your ear.

Already do.

"Am I now?"

He walks around to face you.

"Yup," he says, popping the 'p'. "Look at these."

Steve holds up two slips of paper. Tickets to Bruce Springsteen at Soldier Field.

"Holy shit!" you cry, and throw your arms around him. He catches you with a laugh.

"These must've cost a fortune! How did you get them? I thought they were all sold out."

Steve shrugs. "I know people. So, interested?"

He knows it's all you've been talking about (and lamenting over when the tickets sold out in three minutes). Bruce Springsteen is one of your favorites.

"You didn't—Steve," you gasp in awe. "You really didn't have to do this."

"I wanted to. Consider it an early birthday present."

"Then I want you to come with me," you declare.

"Wh—me?"

"Who else would I bring?" you scoff.

"Someone who actually knows Springsteen songs?"

"You know enough of his hits. I mean, if you really don't want to go..."

"No!" He shakes his head. "No, Y/N, obviously I'll go. I just didn't want you to be embarrassed when I'm the only person there who doesn't know Glory Days."

"Well, that's why we're gonna listen to Born in the USA everyday until the concert," you grin. "Get you prepped."

Steve groans. "Can't believe you're giving me homework."

You turn to put the tickets in your bag. Steve crowds you as you do, chin on your shoulder. He's always affectionate with you, loose with his touches and pets.

Robin looks at you, brows to her hairline.

"It's fun homework," you say, ignoring Robin with all your might. "We can listen to the tapes in your car 'cause you've got the fancy sound system."

"That why you're friends with me?" Steve asks, arms curling around your belly. "Just for perks?"

"No comment. But the concert tickets have definitely moved you up to best friend status," you grin.

"Where was I before?" he squawks.

You pat his cheek. Steve pretends to grumble for another moment before slipping away. Instantly, you miss the warmth of his embrace.

"If you're done clinging to Y/N," Robin starts. "The new releases need to be shelved."

Steve throws her an eye roll but goes, giving you one last smile. You return it sheepishly. Robin watches you like a hawk.

You finally relent when Steve's far enough away.

"What is it now, Robs?"

"Signals," is all she says.

"Concert tickets is not a signal, Robin."

"Oh, it's something. Steve's music taste is whatever's on the radio."

"Not true! He listens to Queen and Fleetwood Mac and AC/DC and—"

"Because of you," Robin huffs. "It's you, Y/N, it's all for you. And you're both so deeply in denial you think it's just friendship things."

"He's just..." You watch Steve stack the videos on the shelf.

The enamel pin you got him a few months ago is on his FV vest. It's a bumblebee that says bee mine! You'd thought it was cute and fun and that Steve would like it. He wears it everyday, even if it doesn't match his outfit at all.

You look at Robin, your heart in your throat.

"Signals?" you squeak.

She nods.

"Now you're getting it."

I want a romance like that 😭😭😭😭 sending this to my boyfriend so he can learn how to talk about me

Joe passionately rambling on about Y/N for six mins and thirty-four seconds video

Pairing: Joe Keery x Actress!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Category: Fluff. That's all.

Warning: None

Summary: Steve Harrington and Penelope Carter did not stay together at the end of the fourth season of Stranger Things, and the internet has a lot to say about that. In contrast, to warm the hearts of Steddy's fans, one fan shares a six mins and thirty-four second compilation of Joe Keery passionately rambling on about you, his girlfriend, and coincidentally Penny Carter herself.

"Joe literally pinched himself upon seeing Y/N on set for the first time." Matt Duffer told during an interview with Variety in June 2022. "You remember that, right?"

Ross Duffer, sitting next to his brother, laughed as he shook his head, arms crossed over his chest. "There's no forgetting it." He joked. "They sat next to each other in the script room, and you could just see how nervous he was. It was a really fun thing to watch."

Matt nodded, humming as he did so.

"Yeah, I think that's why we can say that we were kind of prepared for the negative fan reaction regarding Steve and Penny's tragic ending in season four, you know?" He added. "We knew from the beginning that it would be hard to convince the audience that Steve and Nancy should be something when we had Joe Keery in love with Y/NY/L/N since the first time he saw her."

To say that the internet was in mourning would be an understatement.

The fourth season of Stranger Things had premiered some time ago, and for fans of the TV show, that was synonymous with hope. This time, Steve Harrington and Penelope Carter will finally be together.

The development from friends to lovers between the characters was something that fans had longed for since the first season, which unfortunately did not happen. Penelope received a tragic ending in Upside Down, and the scene in which her bloodied body was embraced by a miserably distraught Steve had generated thousands of disgruntled tweets and videos on TikTok — most of them featuring puffy-eyed girls, tears streaming down their cheeks as the scene in question played in the background.

Steve and Penelope hadn't gotten the ending they deserved, but you and Joe were the protagonists of another story, this one being in real life, and knowing that you two had been together for more than four years mended a little the crack left in the hearts of Stenny fans.

One video in particular, accumulating a little over 1,5 million views on YouTube, had been shared by a Twitter account along with the hashtag JusticeForStenny, on the rise since the last episode of the fourth season was aired:

@stennylover: steve and penelope didn't get a chance to be together and I know everyone here is heartbroken about it, but here is a compilation of joe passionately rambling on about yn for six mins and thirty-four seconds to warm your hearts

The video in question begins by showing the title text in white capital letters on a black background, the instrumental of Paper Rings by Taylor Swift playing in the background:

Joe Keery passionately rambling on about Y/NY/L/N for six mins and thirty-four seconds straight.

cut

The first recording shows Joe standing in front of a white background during the Glamour's friendship test, arms behind his back and eyes fixed on the floor. He was wearing a plain black shirt, the length of his hair a little shorter than that sported by Steve Harrington indicating that he was preparing for another role.

"I— I was just mesmerized the first time I saw her, honestly." He shakes his head slowly, his lips curving into a comforting smile. "She was visibly excited to be on set. It was like it was her first time in an environment like that, and it was really adorable to see her so excited about every little thing that happened." He said before looking at the camera, the smile not abandoning his lips. "When we had scenes together— which happened a lot, I used get so fucking nervous." Joe laughed, his cussing censored by a beep. "I was constantly getting my lines wrong because of that, and she's always been so thoughtful and patient about it, you know? Which only made my situation worse, actually." He joked, scratching the back of his neck as his eyes meet the floor once again. "She would always ask me if I needed a break, because, you know, she genuinely thought that these mistakes were because of fatigue or something, when internally I was like, 'Oh, I'm fine, I'm sorry about that, I'm just, you know, thinking of a way to ask you out on a date.'"

The video then cuts to the Wired autocomplete interview granted by Joe and Gaten Matarazzo.

Gaten is holding the styrofoam board while the phrases with "is joe keery" remain hidden under white stickers.

"Okay, so let's see what we have here." Joe hums as he pulls out the first sticker. "Is Joe Keey," he begins, "Y/N/Y/L/N's boyfriend in real life?"

"I love the fact that your first question has to do with Y/N." Gaten joked.

"Yeah, I was about to say that, man." Joe played along, leaning forward with one hand on his knee. "But yes, I am Y/N's boyfriend in real life."

"Title he's most proud of." Gaten punctuated, raising his index finger.

Joe clicked his tongue, a smug smile adorning the corner of his lips. "I mean, my girlfriend is Y/N/Y/L/N." He makes a point of stressing your name as if no one knows. "You don't meet many guys this lucky."

Gaten contracted his face in a fake expression of disgust, shaking his head before looking directly at the camera.

"We are still on a mission to find out how much he is paying Y/N."

The next cut is from an interview of Joe to GQ Spain where he was responding to some comments from fans on the internet.

"Youtube." Joe announced before the edit added a lofi song along with a video of Stranger Things fan comments on a scene of Steve and Penelope in the second season, then focusing on one specific user. "I honestly don't know how Steve doesn't realize that Penelope has a crush on him. Is he an idiot?" He reads as the comment remains on the screen.

The video then turns back to Joe.

"I mean, yeah?" He laughs, the video returning to the commentary session as Joe's lines were added as a response along with a typing sound. "I see a lot of Y/N—my girlfriend, in Penelope, you know? Not just because she plays her, obviously, but also because they're both so smart and have such a gentle soul that it's almost like they're magnetic, so when someone asks me what the similarities are between me and Steve, I make it clear that I'm a little smarter when it comes to girls, because I would never let someone like Y/N or Penelope get away. Thank you."

The video then cuts to an interview of Joe on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Kimmel.

"Can we— Can we talk about Y/N/Y/L/N?" Jimmy asked as he leaned over his desk. The audience whistled and clapped loudly as soon as your name was mentioned, making Joe smile. "I mean, we all love her here, and we know you've been together for years— over three years, right?"

"Yeah, that's right." Joe squeaked, shaking his head. "We kind of got tired of just being on screen, you know?" He made a joke, laughing at the thunderous reaction from the audience.

"Man, this is so cool!" Jimmy exclaimed genuinely, causing Joe to nod his head and mutter an almost inaudible "thank you." "And how was the preparation for you two for this fourth season? If I'm correct, the recordings were interrupted due to the pandemic, right?"

"Oh, yes, unfortunately we had that setback and that's why there was a significant delay compared to the other seasons." Joe explained.

"And you two were together during that time?" Jimmy inquired curiously, arching his eyebrows. "Practicing the script together and all that stuff?"

Joe crossed his legs, interlacing his fingers over his lap.

"Well, we did a lot of fun stuff during those months, and of course discussing the script ended up being one of them, but we also kind of took that time to disconnect a little bit, you know?" Joe replied, "We cook together, we write songs together, we learn about gardening on YouTube…" He enumerated with his fingers, "just a bunch of cool stuff."

"Oh, that sounds amazing." Jimmy said in an impressed tone. "Just a couple discovering new hobbies, right?"

"Yeah, but Y/N, she's just— she's just a lot smarter and more talented than me, you know?" Joe said amidst a laugh. "She can act, she can write, she can sing, she can knit, she can read a book about what are the right garden pots for each kind of seed and suddenly become a big Wikipedia on the subject…" he rambled, gesticulating excitedly, "It's amazing. She is amazing. I'm one hundred percent sure she could build a rocket from scratch if she wanted to."

"Wow." Jimmy smiled, exchanging a quick glance with the audience before facing Joe again. "So I guess we can say you're a little bit in love, right?"

Joe blushes, his eyes dropping to the floor before turning to Jimmy." "Yeah, I kind of am."

Crying screaming throwing up 😭😭 KISS YOU FOOLS!

Would you be willing to do hide from the prompt list with Steve?

your wish is my command ♥ sorry, it's a bit angsty cause i'm feeling down today

[HIDE; Allowing the smaller friend to hide in the bigger friend’s jacket, arms closed around them and the smaller one’s face tucked close. ]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

You lean against the wall, hugging yourself in hopes of warding off the cold. And God, it is cold. Your breath creates little white clouds, but the cold isn't as bothersome as the anxiety that's been squeezing your throat minutes ago.

"What are you doing here?" asks Steve, a step away from joining you. He rubs both hands together, seeking some kind of warmth. "It's freezing out here."

Steve is a good friend — the best. It's always been hard for you to talk, especially about your own feelings, and with Steve sometimes it feels like you don't even have to. He seems to be able to read your thoughts, to always know when to give you space, when to make sure you're not alone.

You hope that's not true, though. That he's not able to read your thoughts, that is. You don't want him to know a few in particular, the ones you have when you say something that makes him laugh, truly laugh, the kind that has him throwing his head back and making the most wonderful sound in the world. Or when Steve squeezes you into a hug and his scent seems to linger on you for the rest of the day. Or when…

Well, better stop there.

The sound of your name makes you turn your head to look at him. "Hmm?" you ask.

"Are you cold?"

You rub your own arms. Except for your hands, you're not feeling that cold, but it was definitely warmer inside the house. Too warm, somehow. Suffocating.

"I'm not taking your jacket," you say, already all too familiar with Steve's kindness and the way his ridiculously nice brain works. He gives so much to others that someone needs to remind him that he is also a person with needs like everyone else.

"But-"

"No."

Steve takes your hands between his and blows hot air into them. "You look like you're cold."

You're not — well, at least you don't feel like you are. It feels like you're burning hot right now, this close to him.

He doesn't let go of your hands. Instead, his fingers close around your wrists and he gently pulls you closer.

"Come here," he whispers, and you let him wrap your hands around his own waist, under his jacket, fluffy and warm and incredibly cozy. You enjoy the feeling of his chin resting on top of your head, of his hands rubbing your back slowly. "Better?" he asks.

You let your eyes close for a moment, hugging him a little tighter.

"You're my favorite person," you whisper against his chest, kind of hoping he won't hear.

Of course, he does.

"Oh, I think I'm going to need this in writing," Steve says, and you can pretty much hear the smile in his voice. "Just wait until I rub that in Eddie's face."

He feels your laughter in his chest, as if it were inside his heart. Maybe it is.

After a moment, he whispers against your hair, "You're my favorite person too."