#Billy Hargrove cheating

[buckysgrace]

6. Kiss Me Deadly

Now That We Don’t Talk

Billy Hargrove x Fem!Mayfield OC/Tommy Hagan x Fem!OC

CW: Stepcest, cheating

Kim

Glitter and ribbon streamers were strung through her hair, decorated delicately by Nora after she had eaten her cake. Tommy’s mother had fussed about how it would ruin her hairstyle, but she didn’t mind. It probably looked better than it had before. 

She took a breather in the pantry, feigning the need for more supplies as she gave herself one second of peace. She was terrified that everyone knew, that everyone could see the crime that she had just committed with Billy. She was overthinking it.

But she didn’t regret what she had done and maybe that was the worst part. She missed Billy’s touch, missed all of them. All of those old feelings were front and present now, making it incredibly difficult for her to even sit across from him in the same room. She wanted to sit by him, to be able to touch him. She could still feel him, even now. 

“What are you doing?” She jolted, holding her palm over her chest as Billy entered the room with her. She chewed on her bottom lip, watching the way he shut the door behind him as she gestured towards the untouched items next to her. 

“Oh,” She paused for a moment, “Getting more paper plates. Why?” She asked him curiously, tongue feeling heavy in her mouth. It had been risky enough when they were on their own, they definitely couldn’t do it now with everyone nearby. 

She inhaled deeply as she got a better look at him, realizing that he wasn’t here for any sexual needs. He looked angry, furious. Her heart beat slowly but roughly inside of her chest as she held her fingers together, trying to swallow the lump in the back of her throat. 

“She looks like me,” He said, looking rather disheveled as he leaned against the wall, “She fucking looks like me.” He accused her roughly, eyes flashing in disbelief as he waited for her to answer.

There was no shying away, no turning her head and hiding from his accusation. She’d thought about that same statement for many years. And the older Nora grew, the more she had slowly begun to realize that it may be true. That it probably was. Nora just didn’t resemble Tommy. But still. There was a chance. 

“Billy-,” She started slowly, trying to keep her composure calm, “I don’t-,”

“You don’t what?” He said with a laugh, “Is it true? Is she mine?” He demanded, pointing to himself roughly. She felt a rush of emotions smacking her around, nearly making it difficult to breathe. But she wouldn’t break down, not yet. 

“I don’t know,” She told him honestly, “I never tested anything. I couldn’t-, I couldn’t tell Tommy that. Maybe.” She felt numb as the words rolled off of her tongue. It was pathetic and not much of an answer, but it was all she had. She had spent much time deciding that she would be the only one to know this truth. Well, up until Billy decided to show up once again. Now things were messy. 

“Jesus, Kim.” He looked at her exasperated, like she had done something wrong. She bit down on her tongue for a second, frustrated by the way he was rubbing his palms across his face. She’d spent the past few years alone, understanding that if anyone was to ever become suspicious that it would all be over with. He had left her alone, with no way of getting a hold of him. It wasn’t her fault. 

“Don’t,” She said sternly, “You left me. I had no way of contacting you. I didn’t even know you were alive until Tommy said you were coming here.” She reminded him roughly, her throat burning from the large lump that had grown in the back of it. She knew she was probably a terrible person, but she wasn’t going to make Nora suffer because of it. And despite all things, Tommy was good to Nora and she loved him. 

“So that makes things right?” Billy scoffed as he looked at her, eyes slightly glistened over. She looked at him in frustration, unsure of how he could just think she wanted to do something so terribly to him. To Tommy. To her daughter. Many people would be hurt if the truth came out. 

“What did you want me to do?” She asked him seriously, “How was I supposed to get a hold of you? You ran off. You erased me from your life.” She felt angry now. Furious that she had been so easy for him to toss aside. She would’ve left with him to California if he had asked. She would’ve done anything for him. But he didn’t want her. She’d always just been something cheap and easy for him to get his hands on. 

“You made a whole big fantasy for yourself though, didn’t you?” He cocked his eyebrows as he looked at her accusingly, nose curled up like he was disgusted with her. It hurt. It made her feel really shitty. She’d been disgusted with herself for a long time now and didn’t need him to confirm it. 

“I don’t owe you anything,” She said as she fought the growing lump in the back of her throat, “I did what I thought I had to do. I couldn’t go back home to our parents. I don’t know what you want from me.” She wiped at her cheek, blinking roughly to try and keep the tears from rolling down her cheeks. She didn’t want to cry.

“Honesty would’ve been nice.” His voice was raw as he spoke, like he was genuinely upset. She shook her head as she turned from him, blinking roughly before she took another deep breath. Today was supposed to be a happy day. 

“How?” She asked him seriously, “How was I supposed to tell you? She might not be yours. We don’t know. I don’t know.” She reminded him, feeling awful all over again. She used to debate about going off on her own with Nora, but she had no support. It was scary. She didn’t know what to do, especially if Tommy was her father. She didn’t know what was right or wrong. 

“She doesn’t look like Tommy, that’s for sure.” He replied dryly as he crossed his arms over his chest. She felt as if she’d been backed into a small corner. 

“You can’t just come in here and act like I owe you something,” She said at last, “It’s not fair.” She sniffled as the tears fell free this time, her cheeks growing raw as she rubbed her fists across her cheeks. This was too messy for her to work through. 

“What’s not fair is you marrying him,” He said at last, “What were you thinking?” He swung it back at her again, making her stare at him in disbelief. What had she been thinking? 

“I dated him to keep your dad from getting suspicious because you said it would be a good idea,” She reminded him, “You never told me you loved me. Or that you wanted to be with me. Tommy at least gives me stability.” She spit out all at once, angry tears continuing to fall from her eyes. 

“And how is that treating you?” He asked her seriously, “Because you look pretty fucking bored.” He shot back at her, making the tension in the room grow thicker. They were both angry, that was very clear. 

“You don’t know anything.” Her voice wobbled this time, her throat burning as she gripped the paper plates tightly in her hands. She needed to get out of here, to get away from him. She couldn’t deal with him right now. 

“He doesn’t even help you,” He spit out, “He looks like he could care less if you stay together or not.” He expressed the truth once again, but she shook her head quickly. She had already decided that Tommy was allowed to do whatever he wanted. It was only fair. 

“I’m not fighting with you about this.”  She dismissed at last, no longer wanting to talk to him. She felt sick, ridden with guilt and shame. She was disgusted with herself, angry that she had let herself pretend like everything would be fine. 

He stared at her, eyes still holding a fiery gaze for a split second before he relaxed. His shoulders sagged as he exhaled roughly, wiping his palm across his forehead. She rubbed her fingers across her cheeks once again. 

She distracted herself as she heard the door opening, gripping a handful of plates and silverware and whatever else she could grab within her arms. She listened fearfully, heart hammering roughly inside of her chest. 

“Is everything okay?” Tommy’s voice entered the room, confusion laced in his tone as he stepped inside. She held the stuff close to her chest, trying to keep the panic from boiling over. 

“Kim.” Billy’s tone was warmer, softer this time around. She closed her eyes for a brief second, knowing that this wasn’t the time to discuss who Nora’s father was. Not today. 

“Everything is fine,” She said harshly, blinking quickly to keep her fresh tears from falling, “Here’s the plates.” She turned, forcing a bright smile onto her lips as she held everything tightly to her chest. Tommy wrinkled his eyebrows together.

“Alright,” He nodded his head, “Let’s get back to it then.” He smiled as he held his hand out, his fingers brushing against her shoulder. She nodded her head, grateful for the escape as she quickly fled. She couldn’t be in here for one more second.

Billy’s words stayed with her the rest of the day, truly making it difficult for her to focus like she had before. She was stupid. So, so stupid. She couldn’t believe how easily she had fallen, how she had made her situation so much more complicated.

“Did you have fun?” She asked as she got Nora tucked into bed that night. Her strawberry blonde hair was filled with pink and yellow streamers. She had decided against taking them out, she had been so excited about them after all. 

“Yeah,” Nora grinned happily, her bed filled with the new baby dolls she had gained, “I liked the cake the best.” She giggled softly, her eyes fluttering with exhaustion as she yawned deeply. 

“Did you?” She laughed as she dropped the picture book against her chest, “I did too. I’m glad you had fun.” She hummed as Nora scooted closer to her, rubbing her cheek against Kim’s shoulder. 

“Are you sleepy?” Nora asked softly, eyes fluttering shut as Kim gave her a little kiss on her forehead. It felt safe here, at least for now. Nora could be upset with her in the future, but for now it was fine. She understood right now at the moment. 

“Very.” Kim nodded her head softly, drifting her fingers across Nora’s forehead and nose. Then across her cheeks. She was out a few seconds later, drifting into deep sleep as Kim continued to watch her. She didn’t want to get up, but she needed to.

She ensured the little night light was on, just in case Nora got out through the night. Then she made sure that her stuffed rabbit was nearby to grab as it was her favorite. But she hoped that she’d sleep well tonight after all of their fun activities. 

She gently shut the door before she headed down the hallway, confirming that Tommy was already passed out in their room too. He had to work tomorrow so it was no big surprise to her. He needed to rest. And she wanted to hide away in her shame. 

“You’re not going to tell him then?” Billy’s voice made her sigh as she placed a hand over her head, knowing that she shouldn’t be surprised that he brought it up again so soon. He’d been watching her closely the rest of the afternoon. She knew he was upset and rightfully so, but she was exhausted. 

“What do you want me to say?” She asked him softly, turning to face him. She felt her heart flutter in her chest at their close proximity. 

“I want you to be honest.” He told her sternly but not in a condescending manner. Her pulse quickened underneath her skin, making her press her palm down against her chest lightly. She didn’t need to panic over this. She’d be fine. 

“I don’t know,” She huffed in frustration, close to breaking down again, “I just can’t do this right now.” She told him roughly, wishing he would just leave her alone. She used to pray for his return, that he would walk through the door and beg for her back. But that had been a silly dream. They couldn’t work out. Things were too complicated now. 

He stared at her for a long time, his hardened expression slowly fading as he drifted his eyes towards hers. She wondered if he could tell how much this was hurting her. She didn’t have any explanations for him right now. 

“I love you.” His words were soft, gentle like the first breeze in autumn. Her jaw went slack, eyes widened as she stared at him. She had to be dreaming. She had surely heard him wrong. How could he say such a thing? Now especially. 

“Stop.” She demanded as she felt her heart open up, singing for joy as everything else crashed around her. She grew angry with him, wondering why he took so long to say such a thing. They could be in a very different place now had he not waited. Why did he wait? Did he like seeing her suffer? 

“I love you,” He clarified as he took another step forward, closing the gap between the two of them, “I was so fucking stupid for leaving, but I couldn’t stand to see you marry him. I was so selfish. Look at you. He doesn’t treat you like you deserve.” He whispered softly, making her heart ache as he began to rub his thumbs across her skin. 

“Billy.” She whispered underneath her breath, shaking her head as they shared the same sorrow. His eyes were glazed over in the same manner, a look of regret etched on his features. 

“I’m a lot of things,” He laughed between his tears, looking a little angry at himself, “But I know I would treat you well. I would. I love you. Everything about you.” He spoke freely as he held onto her, forcing her to keep her eyes locked in on his. Everything hurt. She had wanted to hear this for so long and now she didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t believe it. 

“You don’t love me.” She spit out between her tears, chest rising and falling harshly. She didn’t know how everything could go so wrong in a matter of days. This was bad. Very bad. She knew what her answer would be, so she needed him to be lying to her. 

“Then I’ve never felt like this with anyone else,” He said harshly, “I won’t take that back.” He dropped his head against hers, making her sniffle harshly as she gripped his wrists softly. 

“You’re making this harder.” She told him truthfully, shaking her head in dismay as a soft chuckle left his lips. She was so deeply in love with him, but that didn’t erase everyone else. There were more things at play than just their feelings. 

“Come away with me.” He begged as his lips fell to her forehead, kissing her skin gently as she nuzzled herself against him. She wished she could pull away. 

“How?” She asked him softly, “I have no job. You don’t either. Nora is four, her whole life is here. I can’t just leave.” She reminded him, unsure of where they would even go. She supposed she could ask Sam, but that would be a whole other conversation. She didn’t want to go there. Not just yet. 

“Then we work it out here,” He promised as he brought his lips against the corner of her mouth, “I should’ve never let you go.” He sighed softly, tickling her skin as she closed her eyes gently. She savored the feeling of him, the way everything burned inside of her.

“Do you mean it?” She asked him seriously as she pulled away, searching his eyes for any lie. She couldn’t have him just leave again, escape through her fingertips. She needed to know that he was serious. 

“I love you, Kimberly Rose.” His smile grew slowly, but seriously. She felt a sense of relief spread through her body, her joy bursting into bright flames as her heart beat to the rhythm of his words. He loved her. “I love you too.” She breathed out quickly, nodding her head rapidly as the tears fell even harder this time. It was almost poetic as he began to brush her tears away from her eyes. She began to do the same, admiring the feeling of his slick skin against her thumbs. 

“Yeah?” He chuckled softly, looking lighter than he had the whole time he’d been there. She nodded her head in agreement, inhaling deeply. This was so messy. 

“I have for a long time.” She laughed as she wiped the rest of his tears away, smiling gently as she pulled his hand away gently. She kissed his fingertips, wishing they could just be together. This would’ve been much easier if they had just admitted their feelings years ago. 

“What do we do now?” He asked her softly, moving his hands so he could tuck her hair behind her ears. She didn’t know. She had no clue. She didn’t want to hurt Nora, or Tommy. Even if she wasn't in love with him, she still cared for him greatly. 

“I don’t think you could convince Tommy to leave me,” She teased softly, “That would make things easier.” She thought out loud, wishing there was some simple solution. There really wasn’t. 

“Hm.” He thought in agreement, making her shake her head in disagreement. They couldn’t place the blame on Tommy. They needed to be the one to do this.

“I was joking.” She said quickly, shaking her head as he lazily rested against the counter. She frowned, watching the plans form behind his eyes. 

“It’s not a bad idea.” He said as he chewed on his bottom lip, tapping his fingers against the counter as he continued to think about it. 

“Billy,” She breathed in deeply, “If you mean what you say, then this is serious. You can’t change your mind. I have a daughter.” She told him instead, wanting him to know that she wouldn’t just leave Nora. 

“We have a daughter.” He clarified, making her heart soar in her chest. She felt a smile form on her lips, knowing it was more complicated than that. 

“She takes a lot of work.” She didn’t know how Nora would react to the news, or if they should tell her at all. Tommy was the only father she had ever known. 

“She’s like her mom,” He teased as he traced her lips with his thumb, “I can handle that.”

Tags: @cassandracorvo @jessicar401 @mrprettywhenhecries @sassidykassidy

[nyabr0]

double posting but heres a piece I did a few weeks ago that I didn’t post bc i felt lazy for following the ref photo so closely but I looked at it again for color refs and I like it very much so here🤲🏻

what do you think hes making?

[sleepyicon]

harringrove is pure fanon fun, but canon was sleeping on hollogrove

[chickensoupleg]

2 random aus since I got in a mood.

Eddie living near a lake that had rumours of mermaids living in there. The lake being huge and deep, so deep that Eddie would joke it's just a mini ocean in his own backyard. He and his uncle Wayne would go fishing there all the time, and so it was a very comforting place. Especially with the mermaid rumours. Eddie even would put the 'mermaid lake' into some of his campaigns, just for fun. Sometimes it was an important feature, where he would encourage his players to visit it, or maybe even have the big bad appear there. Then suddenly the rumours come true, when he's just writing and playing songs by the lake and hears singing coming from it. He would look out to the lake and see eyes staring back at him before disappearing into the deep. Of course, nobody believes him, because sure. The rumours are popular, but it doesn't mean people actually believe anyone would actually see them. Eddie is persistent though and keeps visiting. Even if he doesn't see whatever he saw that day, he gets to be by the lake, which is just added perk. Then he sees the mermaid for real, and turns out mermaids know English. He also learns that mermaids can be dudes, even if it's far more popular for them to be female. His mermaid friend finds it hilarious, because if mermaids were only girls than how would they procreate? Like bacteria? Which, when he puts it like that, does sound kind of stupid. Anyways, he learns the mermaid is named Billy, and that he's not actually from here at all. Which, obviously, sounds insane to Eddie, because where else would he have come from? It's a lake, and as far as Eddie is aware, not connected to the ocean in the slightest. It is a sole standing body of water as far as he's aware. Billy, the prick, laughs at him. Apparently it is connected to other bodies of water, it's just not feasible by human standards. There's a hidden underground tunnel apparently, and Billy just sort of... migrated there. Accidentally. The tunnel is somehow a powerful current, and only works one way. So he's been stuck there for years. There are a handful of other mermaids in the lake, but they don't come up since they can breathe underwater just fine despite appearing human. Ergo, they never interact with humans much either. The only reason Billy even showed up was because he liked the music Eddie was playing. Which launches Eddie into a whole plethora of questions, because this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Billy only answers some of them freely, and makes Eddie work to get other answers. They grow close, and since then Eddie makes it his mission to continually visit his new friend. Billy isn't much of a nerd as Eddie is, but they connect with their shared appreciation for the metal genre, even if Eddie has to be the one to supply it. In return, Billy gives him cool shells and rocks he finds. And a crab once. Which was weird, because Eddie didn't know the lake had crabs. They get close, and maybe even a little affectionate. Who knows.

Basically just centaur Harringroveson AU. Steve is a cervitaur, Eddie is a centaur, and Billy is a bariaur. They're just vibing honestly. Maybe Eddie gets the fun time of watching Steve and Billy fight by antler/horns. And then help them because they got stuck to each other. Which happens a lot, because something in their hindbrains wants to just slam their antlers/horns against each other. Dominance, or whatever it is supposed to be. Eddie certainly isn't up for the task. Fun times when Steve casually shed his antlers. Or shed his velvet, where Eddie has to go hide because it is a gory sight. He finds it metal, but also his stomach can only take so much. Billy finds it equally as gross, but his stomach is much stronger for this. Eddie is probably like... a black thoroughbred horse. Or a mustang. Just... a runner of a guy. Steve is either a common white-tailed deer or a red deer. Just for the idea of the red deer being huge and the whole King Steve kind of idea. Billy is a rambouillet ram or a rocky mountain bighorn. Just... stocky but also has a sort of glamour to him. Of course just to make it fair everyone gets the fun perk of being centaur hybrid things. Maybe El can be a unicorn centaur, as a psychic treat. (Oh my gosh unicorn Vecna.... Dark crispy unicorn Vecna.... Flesh monster...) Also I don't think cars exist in this universe, because it would be very awkward trying to fit in one, unless they were very specifically built and long to accommodate the rest of them. Oh they'd be so long. So either it is long cars, or everyone walks everywhere. Alternatively, wagons for passengers. Just for extra fun (mostly just for me) Robin is also a cervitaur, and she jokes that she stole Steve's antlers when hers come in when Steve's falls off. She'd be a reindeer, which is why it works. It also means they can put trinkets on their antlers year round. When Steve's falls off they go right on Robin's. Fun fact, sheeps can swim. Billy is not banned from his water. However, sheep can also sink because wool is a thing. Billy has to shave. Extra treat: Demotaurs. Why not.

[ashwhowrites]

Can I request an Billy x reader x Eddie fic where either the three of them fight and then make up or Billy made Reader cry and Eddie got mad at him, and he then fixes it? I would love to see more of Mungrove x reader!

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it!! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻Mungrove is getting very fun

2 boyfriends but 1 girlfriend

If there was anything that was a promise when dating Billy Hargrove, it was jealousy. Billy was popular with everyone. The boys idolized him, and the girls crawled at his feet. Billy was a loyal partner, Eddie and Y/N knew that. But Billy never was shy from the attention on him. He loved it. He loved being chased and all the girls swooning at his feet.

It didn't really bother Eddie. Eddie was never bothered by much, he shrugged everything off and moved on. He and Billy barely ever fought about it. But Y/N? She couldn't just shrug it off. It bothered her all the way into her skin and bones. Billy never saw the issue as it wasn't like he cheated. But to Y/N, being involved in flirting felt like cheating.

Saturday night meant date night. It turned out that having to compare three schedules was difficult. Billy always had basketball practice after school, Eddie had his campaign and band practice, and then Fridays were basketball games and singing gigs. But they all vowed that Saturdays would be their day.

It was late May and the weather was getting hot. Billy wanted to take a road trip off to the beach, so they did. The drive didn't feel that long once they pulled into the parking lot.

"We'll go grab a spot, and you unpack the car," Eddie said as he grabbed Y/N's hand. They ran through the hot sand and threw down their towels.

Y/N was basking in the sun as Eddie took dives in the water. She laughed behind her sunglasses as Eddie tried to do tricks for a rating. Usually, Billy would be with Eddie, both boys trying to one-up each other.

"I'M GONNA CHECK ON BILLY, DON'T DROWN," Y/N yelled as she stood up. Eddie gave her a thumbs-up before diving into the water once again. That boy loved to be in the water.

Y/N put on her sandals and began to walk towards the parking lot. She wasn't sure what took Billy so long, but she had a good feeling of why once she caught Billy with his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose and his pearly whites on display.

Y/N walked up slowly, hearing Karen Wheeler flirting with her boyfriend. Billy was leaning close to her, making her laugh.

"Um, babe? You need any help with the stuff?" Y/N asked, she didn't want to sound rude or bitchy. She was more nervous and uncomfortable with the tight feeling in her stomach.

"Got it all handled, sweetie," Billy said, popping his gum. He didn't bother to look behind him at her, his eyes on Karen only.

"Eddie is starting his tricks and waiting for his competition." Y/N hinted she hoped he'd care enough to look at her this time.

"I'll be there in a minute," Billy said, his tone a little angry. Y/N gulped, she did not want to make him mad but she wanted time with her boyfriend.

"Will you be done soon? We've been here for thirty minutes and you know Saturday is o-" But Billy cut her off. He whipped around and his icy blue eyes glared at her.

"I said in a minute. I'm in the middle of a conversation, we have the whole godamn day for you to be on my ass." He snapped, and Y/N nodded. She bit her lip as she felt it tremble. Billy turned back to Karen and Y/N began to walk away. She sniffled as she tried to keep her tears back.

"Clingy one I see," Karen mocked, Billy let out a big laugh.

"You've got no idea."

~

Eddie was back on his towel when Y/N made it back, without Billy.

"Hey sweets, where's Billy? Does he need my help?" Eddie asked, pushing his sunglasses into his hair. He squinted as he looked over at Y/N.

"No, he's fine," Y/N said, her voice shaky as she sat on her towel.

Eddie frowned hearing her voice, he was quick to move his towel right next to her. His wet body against hers as he threw his arm over her shoulder.

"What's wrong?" Eddie asked, he saw his reflection in her sunglasses as she turned to look at him.

"He's too busy to join us because of Karen Wheeler." Y/N sighed, but Eddie knew there was more.

"I'm sorry he's being a dick," Eddie said, his lips pressed against her shoulder.

"Do you think I'm...clingy?" Y/N asked, she pushed her sunglasses into her hair as she looked into Eddie's eyes. His frown deepened as he saw her watery eyes.

"Not at all! Why do you ask?"

"Karen made a comment about it, and Billy laughed and agreed. It hurts when he flirts with every girl that breathes. It makes me insecure. Why am I not pretty enough to keep him from looking at other girls? He never looks at other guys." Y/N ranted, salty tears ran down her cheek.

"Oh, darling. I can't make an excuse for his dumb actions. But I promise you, you are enough. You are pretty enough, smart enough, funny enough, and everything more." Eddie said softly, he wiped away her tears.

"I'm going to swim for a bit." Y/N said, she gave Eddie a soft kiss then left to head into the water.

Eddie flicked down his sunglasses and went right after Billy.

Just like Y/N said, Billy was talking to Karen without a care in the world. Eddie walked up to the car and grabbed a water bottle out of the cooler.

He cut in between Karen and Billy. His back to Billy as he glared at Karen through his sunglasses. He handed her the water with a smirk. "Since you are so thirsty, here's water. Now beat it."

Billy chuckled from behind Eddie as Karen walked away.

"My oh my, someone is hot when they are jealous." Billy teased. Eddie turned around and flicked Billy in the forehead.

"I'm not jealous. I'm pissed off at your attitude towards Y/N." Eddie argued.

"I didn't have an attitude. I asked her to give me a minute." Billy defended. He finally grabbed the stuff from the car and began walking towards the beach.

"I don't give a shit if you asked. You ditched us on our date so you could talk with gross Mrs. Wheeler. You know I don't care about flirting because I know who's dick you'll be sucking on. But it's different with Y/N. She gets insecure and you make her upset." Eddie explained, helping his boyfriend carry everything down into the sand.

"Why is her being insecure my fault? We all knew I was popular with the ladies." Billy scoffed.

Eddie waited until Billy dropped everything on the sand before he punched his arm.

"What the hell!" Billy growled as he rubbed the sore spot.

"It's your fault because she doesn't think she's pretty enough to keep your eyes on just her. News flash Hargrove, if you want to soak in all the attention from the "ladies" then don't be in a relationship." Eddie said, another punch at Billy's other arm.

"DAMMIT!" Billy yelled as he felt another bruise forming.

"That's for making her cry. If you don't see what I see in her, then maybe she isn't meant to be yours, just mine." Eddie glared.

"What? You are gonna take her from me?" Billy questioned. He had to admit, the thought made his stomach hurt.

"No, but I'm going to stop trying to make you a good guy."

~

Billy sighed as he walked into the water. His eyes take in the gorgeous girlfriend of his. Her warm skin and the bright color of her bikini. Water dropped down her hair and created droplets that ran down her back.

She didn't turn around and he kept walking closer. Once he reached her he wrapped his arms around her waist.

His mouth was against her ear, as his chin rested on her shoulder. Her skin was warm from the sun.

"I talked to Eddie. And I'm really sorry I upset you." Billy said softly, he squeezed her body as the waves brushed against his legs.

"It's whatever, Billy. I'll get over it like I always do." Y/N sighed. She groaned when Billy turned her around, now face to face as she held back her tears.

"No, I mean it this time. I'm done with the games and the flirting. Eddie and I don't see it as a big deal, but it means something to you. It hurts you and makes you question yourself. Which I never want you to do. I've been a dick and not appreciating you the way I should be. I'm incredibly lucky to have you as a girlfriend. " Billy kissed her neck, and she tried not to melt.

"My sexy and gorgeous girlfriend," more kisses, "who puts up with me when she shouldn't have to," more kisses, "loves me when I don't deserve it," more kisses, "and truly the only woman I'll ever love." The final kiss landed on her lips and she happily kissed back. Her arms were thrown over his shoulders as his tongue moved inside her mouth.

"Can you forgive me?" Billy whispered against her lips. His blue eyes were nervous and guilty.

"Yes but I swear you flirt with one more girl and I'm going to have Eddie truly kick your ass."

"He wishes, baby." Billy chuckled before kissing her again. His hands landed on her ass as his tongue entered her mouth once again.

~

"Great. Now I got a hard on." Eddie groaned as he used Billy's towel to cover his swim shorts.

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[andvys]

Eyes don't lie ⭐︎ S.H

⭐︎ Summary: Nancy got everything she wanted but at what cost? Her eyes won't leave you, her hands crave to touch you, she finds herself in daydreams with you, wondering what it would be like to kiss you, to feel your lips on hers instead of his -- the girl Steve left for her.

And Steve, he is still haunted by what he threw away for a girl he could never love the way he loved... loves you. And while they are longing for something, chasing for someone that they both broke, you are only out for one thing, revenge.

⭐︎ Pairing: Nancy Wheeler x fem!reader | Steve Harrington x fem!reader | mentions of Eddie Munson x fem!reader and Billy Hargrove x fem!reader

⭐︎ Warnings: cheating, mentions of unrequited feelings, mentions of breakups, previous steve x reader, stancy, angst, this is some unhinged au of I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss (iykyk). they're all in college (in Hawkins), mentions of affairs, no happy ending... yet? no smut yet, but it's coming I promise

⭐︎ Author's note: This was supposed to be a oneshot but after talking to @hellfire--cult (as always, my hero) we came up with more filth and this will definitely be getting a part two so buckle up hehe. Also thank you for choosing the title bby!!!

Also this took me way too long to post but I lost inspiration AND now I got it back and I can't wait to get started on part two!

Nancy could not focus on anything Professor Harris was saying, she couldn't care less about the numbers he was writing on the board, her mind was elsewhere and her eyes too, no longer focused on the green board or the young Professor that all the girls were lusting over as they sat there in their short skirts, twirling their hair and blinking at him cutely. 

While everyone was focused on him, her attention was fully on someone it should not be on, but no matter how many times she tried to look away, her eyes would always find their way back to you, tracing every inch of you, from your hair to your face, from your nose down to your lips, from your neck to your chest and then down to your exposed legs, skirt riding up on your thighs, skin glowing softly. 

Your eyelashes kiss the skin beneath your eyes every time you blink, your tongue traces your bottom lip before you bite down on it in concentration, your hair falls over your shoulder, locket nestled perfectly in your cleavage. 

She can smell your perfume from here, every time you pass by her, she gets a whiff of it and it causes goosebumps to rise up on her skin. 

Something in her belly stirs every time she sees you and it's nothing new, it happened the very first time she laid her eyes on you but back then you were always in the presence of the guy she now calls her boyfriend and back then, things were different, so very different. She thought that it was jealousy that she was feeling every time she saw you two together, she could not stop watching you both, but she placed her focus on the wrong person, she wanted the wrong person, she went after the wrong person.

Nancy was horrible for what she did,  and she knew it from the moment she started chasing Steve Harrington when he was still yours and it got even worse when she stole him from you. 

She killed the light in your eyes, she caused the sadness that found home in you, she took away your happiness and for what? Her eyes still follow you, her stomach still tingles and burns when she sees you talking to someone who stares at you a little too intensely, who looks at you the way he once did every time he pulled away from your lips and she can’t understand why, she refuses to let herself see why. 

Regret resides in her, it’s gnawing at her, making her sick on the inside for what she did to you and the feeling only intensifies when he kisses her – she blames the guilt that settled into her body, for making her obsessed with you, for making her unable to look away from you or search for you in the crowd. 

She isn’t the only one, she can see the way he still looks at you, she can see the longing gazes between you both, the way he stops listening to her every time his hazel eyes find you, the way his lips curl into a smile before it becomes a sad one when he stares for too long. She knows that he thinks about you, she knows that he imagines you when he is inside of her, she knows it when he buries his face in the crook of her neck, refusing to look at her, holding her tighter and moaning louder, though biting his lip just so he won’t say your name when he comes undone. 

Steve Harrington may be her boyfriend now but he doesn’t belong to her and she knows it, he is still yours, he always will be. 

And a part of her, doesn’t give a damn fuck – she just can’t see it yet, she refuses to. 

It’s been weeks, months, since he had left you for her and not a single day goes by when she doesn’t wonder why he did it. 

She compares herself to you and her mind can’t comprehend why someone would leave you, why someone like Steve would leave you for her. 

Sometimes when she can’t sleep at night, she thinks about you, about you with Steve, about what you looked like underneath him, how your face contorted into pleasure when he unraveled you with his tongue, how his large palm would press down on your lower stomach to keep you from squirming away from him, how you tugged at his hair, desperate and needy, grinding your sopping pussy against his face before he pounded you into the mattress, kissing and biting your skin, covering you in love bites, making you moan and whimper in need as your boobs bounced while he pleasured you, balls deep inside of you, cock filling you up so perfectly that it made you cry and drool all over the pillow beneath you – by the end of each fantasy that haunted her, her stomach was burning and her thighs were clenched together. It was because of him, it was because of Steve, she told herself but it was a lie, he was there, but he wasn’t who her mind focused on, it never was. 

“Cunningham might chew your head off if you keep staring at her girl,” Barb whispers into her best friend’s ear, making Nancy frown at her words. She turns around, catching the blonde cheerleader glaring at her but she isn’t the reason for her frown. “Her girl?” Nancy asks as she looks away from Chrissy with an eye roll.

Barb chuckles, shaking her head as she starts to gather her books, “come on, everybody knows that Chrissy has a crush on her, she follows her around like some lovesick puppy.”

The feeling in Nancy’s chest tightens, the pit in her belly growing as a snarl makes its way on her face. 

“Right.”

Nancy never really paid attention to Chrissy or the way she looks at you but now that Barb mentions it, she sees it too, especially when the cheerleader grabs your hand and drags you out of the classroom once the lesson is over, a possessive look in her eyes that is directed at no one but Nancy. 

“You never saw it?” Barb chuckles, rising up from her seat, she grabs her coffee that she’s been sipping on all afternoon, holding the paper cup against her chest. 

Nancy shrugs, pretending not to care even though that thought is starting to take up every space in her mind. 

“Well, pay attention tonight, wait – you’re still going to Tina’s party, right?” 

“Yeah, it’s all Steve has been talking about,” Nancy grumbles, clearly not impressed by it or him. 

There is only one reason she will go to the party and it isn’t him. 

To… get drunk, yeah, just to get drunk, nothing more or less, only that. 

Not to observe and obsess over a certain someone. 

-

But it’s not what she ends up doing, not even in the slightest, she downs one drink and that’s all, she can’t even feel the alcohol in her system but she gets drunk on the way he looks at you as sick as it sounds, something within her burns deeply whenever she catches him, the fire only grows bigger when she sees the way you look at him, burning bright red whenever your eyes lock and Steve tenses up beside her – she knows all too well why he tenses up the way he does, why his knuckles are white as he holds his cup of beer tightly, why his brows are furrowed so strongly, why there is a scowl on his face. 

You are on the dancefloor, hands in your hair, a lazy smile on your lips, cheeks burning from the heat of the room and from your dancing, a skimpy little dress being the only thing keeping certain parts of you hidden, the glittery material keeps riding up on your thighs, dangerously high but not enough to expose your ass. You are moving your hips so smoothly, so effortlessly, your skin looks so soft and kissable beneath the string of lights above the room, you know how to move your body, how to put on a show, how to steal the spotlight in the room, how to make everything and everyone around you disappear – everyone except for Billy Hargrove who is snug behind you, hands on your waist, chest pressed against your back as his lips are dangerously close to your neck, ready to kiss and bite, ready to mark you up.

Nancy swallows harshly as she watches you, cheeks burning, chest rising up and down heavily, she licks her bottom lip as her eyes catch Billy’s hands moving to your front, palm pressed against your lower stomach to press you tighter against himself. She squints her eyes, nose scrunching in displeasure when you press your own hand over the larger one on your body. 

Steve scoffs under his breath, mumbling words that Nancy can’t make out in the loud room, she narrows her eyes at him, the red solo cup in his hand has dents in it, his eyes are dark, nearly black, his lips curled downwards as his focus is on nothing other than you and Billy. 

He is pissed and he is jealous, it’s written all over his face. 

Jealous over a girl he left, a girl he dumped – the girl he could never stop loving, the one he still craves and aches for. She knows it all, she always did. 

And now she can’t help but wonder why she doesn’t care, why there isn’t a single part inside of her that is filled with rage over seeing her boyfriend pine after his ex-girlfriend. Shouldn’t she be angry? Shouldn’t she feel hurt and jealous? Shouldn’t she feel possessive or even sad? 

She can’t feel any of those things when she looks at him – she doesn’t feel anything at all when she looks at him. Steve is a handsome guy, there is no doubt about that, he is one of the most good looking she has ever seen, from head to toe, he is gorgeous. His perfect hair, his soft hazel eyes, his lips – he is pretty, yeah, but his lips are rough and his hands are too, his skin not as soft as… the one of a girl. 

And when he talks of his future, she finds herself cringing, looking away to avoid the dreamy look in his honey eyes. Waves of nausea crash over her when he mentions marriage and kids, when he talks of a white picket fence and the RV he wants to explore the country with before going back to his small town life, with wife and kids. She hates it, it makes her sick. 

She looks up at him, arms crossed over her chest, bangs hanging in front of her eyes, her heart sinking into her stomach but not because of the way he is watching you, no, but because of the realization that dawned on her only now. 

Steve Harrington is her own personal nightmare. 

Steve Harrington is everything she never wanted. 

And he is only with her because of the summer they shared, the drunken nights, the giggles after smoking a joint together, the comfort he found in her while you were gone ‘doing god knows what with god knows who’ as he had said back then as though you would have ever done anything to hurt him, you worshiped the ground he walked in, the way he should have done for you too. 

You were in love with him and anyone could see it. 

She heard the rumors, the ones that drove him crazy, the ones that led him away from you and pushed him into her arms – well, not exactly, nothing happened between them until he officially broke up with you. But those rumors were only… rumors and yet, Steve believed in them, he believed Carol Perkins when she told him that you were seeing someone else while you were visiting your cousins in Chicago, that you were spending your nights in a dingy bars, admiring skilled fingers working on a red electric guitar, that your lips touched different ones, that your hands were too busy taking off his leather jacket instead of picking up the phone and calling him. 

He believed it with no evidence, he didn’t need it, his insecurities were enough to push him away from you – the sight before him only confirms the rumors of your sinful summer, though Billy isn’t the guy he was worried about during that time, he was always a problem, as well. 

He poured his heart out to the only who listened and that was Nancy, she comforted him with words, with alcohol and weed, nothing more, there was never a moment that could have led to anything more but her mind back then was wired differently than it is now – now she can’t understand how she misread between the lines so badly, how she mistaked platonic feelings for deeper ones, why she was so angry when you came back to college and to him, why the sight of you kissing your boyfriend filled her with so much rage. 

She was jealous. 

She was so jealous. 

But not because his lips touched yours but because yours touched his. 

It wasn’t a sight she had to endure for long because before she knew it, Steve slipped through your fingers after a big fight caused by the rumors he confronted you about, he didn’t give you a chance to explain yourself, didn’t allow you to tell him what had really happened that summer, he just dumped you, like it didn’t tear his own heart out, like he didn’t regret it the same moment he did it. He dumped you and then he left. He showed up at Nancy’s apartment, not caring about her weird roommate who gave him an odd look when he opened the door and stared at him for a good while, just watching the tears streaming down his cheeks before he called for Nancy, who held him through the night and kissed him in the morning, hoping for a taste of something she would only continue to dream about. 

Now they are here and they are together and they are more miserable than ever with each other.  

They are better off as friends and they both know it… deep down, at least. 

Your giggles break her out of her thoughts, she tears her eyes away from Steve and finds you walking into the room, completely ignoring her and his presence as you make your way over to the table filled with drinks and snacks, Billy close behind you, eyes heavy on your ass, bottom lip caught between his lips. 

Nancy rolls her eyes at him and Steve scoffs at the jock, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the blond.

“Harrington,” Billy smirks, nodding at him mockingly, “how’s it going?” He looks between him and Nancy, lifting his eyebrows at her but she only squints her eyes in response, glaring at him. 

“Peachy,” Steve replies with an unimpressed look on his face. 

You ignore the presence of the couple in the room, not paying attention to them or their interaction with Billy who won’t stop chasing you, especially after your dance with him – it was a mistake and you won’t make any bigger ones, not tonight. 

“Trouble in paradise?” Billy smirks, puffing his chest out as he takes a step closer to Steve, “you don’t look like you’re enjoying yourself,” he chuckles, looking Nancy up and down before his eyes flicker back to Steve’s, “either of you.”

“Why don’t you mind your own business, Hargrove?” Steve grumbles, eyes falling behind the figure in the back, taking in the sight of you so close to him now, the way your dress hugs your body, the way the strap of it falls down your arm and you don’t even bother to fix it, too fixated on the drink in your hand.

“Why don’t you lighten up a bit, hmm? Shouldn’t you be the life of the party, now that you’re with your ‘dream girl’?” 

Nancy nearly gags at the words of the blond. He always knows how to get under his skin and hers and she sees the way you tense up at Billy’s words, as much as you try to ignore the conversation in this room, you can’t unhear it. 

Steve tears his eyes away from you, looking into the blue ones before him, he takes a deep breath and unclenches his jaw, he opens his mouth to speak. 

“Hey guys, we’re playing truth or dare, wanna join?” Tina’s voice cuts him off, the brunette peeks her head inside the kitchen, looking between all of you with a curious spark in her eyes, a bit of mischief lingering in her eyes as well when she senses the tension. 

Steve rolls his eyes, scoffing in annoyance, “what are we fifteen–”

“I’m in.” 

All the attention is on you now, every pair of eyes in the room, staring straight at you as you stand there confidently, with a smirk on your lips, one that surely doesn’t match the look in your eyes as you are looking straight at your ex-boyfriend. 

“I feel like finding out some dirty truths.” You tilt your head to the side, sparing Nancy only a short look but one that leaves her swallowing harshly and blushing furiously. 

You hate her, she can see it in your eyes, you never fail to make it known either, not with words, but with all the glances and glares you direct at her whenever you catch her staring. 

Steve holds your gaze, intensely so. An unamused chuckle falls from his lips, “yeah, why don’t we uncover some dirty truths, Dolly?” He mocks you with the nickname from your childhood. “Let’s go, I’ve been dying to find out more about your summer.” 

If looks could kill then Steve Harrington would drop dead, right now. 

He never gave you a chance to explain yourself, he never even tried to talk to you about the rumors he had heard. When you came back, he pretended like everything was fine, he kissed you and held you, spent time with you, he was distant but he was still there… and then, he wasn’t. 

Nancy purses her lips, watching the way you slowly make your way towards Steve, ignoring Billy’s presence and hers as you halt before him, tilting your head to the side, you lick your lips as your eyes flicker between his eyes and his mouth. 

You are close, close enough to make her feel like she is floating, getting lost in the scent of your perfume, in the color of your eyes. Nancy isn’t sure if she had ever been this close to you before but something in her chest stirs when her eyes follow the way your lips curl downwards, the way your chest rises up and down, necklace stuck between your boobs, the softness of your skin. She digs her nails into her palms, fighting the thoughts in her mind. 

“Oh, now you want to talk?” You scoff and cross your arms over your chest, “we could’ve talked months ago but you were the one who just walked out on me after believing the shit Carol made up about me. I didn’t believe Tommy when he told me about your dirty little secret,” you mumble with nothing but hatred in your voice when you glance at Nancy. “But clearly I had every reason to believe him, unlike you, Harrington.” 

“Yeah, right.” Steve looks down, avoiding your eyes as he finds himself drowning in regret but also in denial. 

He had every reason to believe her, didn’t he? 

He remembers him, he remembers the metalhead that you befriended before he left his hometown to pursue his rockstar career, the same metalhead that Steve used to buy from, it was his fault that you had crossed paths with him anyway, he invited him into his home, you were there when he showed up to drop off the weed, Steve had asked for. The smirk that crossed Eddie’s face when he saw you skipping down the stairs in nothing but Steve’s shirt, should have worried him then already but it didn’t, not even when you invited Eddie in and he started showing up more frequently, not even when Steve was out of town, visiting his grandparents in Colorado, leaving you to spend spring break with your new friend. 

Only when he came back, did the sudden insecurity hit him, when he saw how close you and Eddie had gotten while he was away, when he saw the playful touches and heard the soft giggles, when he saw the sadness in your eyes when the metalhead left for Chicago after graduating high school. He got suspicious, he got insecure and it only worsened when you chose Chicago out of all places to spend your summer at — he knew you had family there but you never visited them before that, so why this summer? 

You never gave him a reason not to trust you but he was deeply insecure and scared that his fears would come true, that had pushed him into Nancy’s arms, the overthinking and the rumors that Carol had started about you and Eddie, the ones that already got around while the metalhead still lived here – Steve ignored them then but he couldn’t ignore them any longer when you left.

Steve felt sick to his stomach at the mere thought of what or who you could be doing, the thought that you had fallen out of love because of someone else made him feel blue, though your voice through the phone had sweetened his day and made him forget about what had previously made him cry but even that didn’t save him or your relationship that started to crumble without your knowledge. 

“What?” You scoff again, eyes glaring into his so intensely that it almost makes him shrink, “don’t act like you’re fucking innocent, we both know you aren’t.”

Nancy shifts on her feet, uncomfortably so, she glances at Tina who is still watching the interaction, amused and intrigued by it all, just like Billy. She rolls her eyes and looks back at you, a part of her wants to speak up, to defend Steve, tell you that nothing happened between them then but her words are caught in her throat. 

“Oh and you are?” Steve replies, taking a step closer to you, he looks down at you in anger, like his heart isn’t aching and yearning for you, like it’s easy for him to look down at you like you don’t mean a thing to him, like you aren’t still the girl that he would do anything for. “Don’t act like you weren’t messing around with the freak–”

“Don’t call him that,” you spit back, frowning at him. 

A dark chuckle falls from Steve’s lips, his eyes flicker with rage and jealousy. 

“Freak? That’s the first thing you’re going to address, not the fact that I just said that you were messing around–”

“I never did that.” 

At this moment, Nancy can’t tell whether you’re telling the truth or not, she was convinced that you weren’t messing around with Eddie Munson – she saw the way he looked at you, the way his eyes followed your every move, filled with softness and adoration, filled with lust. But she also saw the way you looked at Steve, you were devoted to him, only to him. 

Though Steve’s insecurities made her question you as well, especially now. 

“Yeah sure, you didn’t, Dolly,” Steve clenches his jaw. “You were just friends, hmm right.”

“Yeah, like you and Nancy,” you fight back, looking at him smugly, angrily. “You were just friends, right? When I came back to Hawkins, that’s all you were right? Just friends, huh? Funny how you dumped me shortly after you had befriended her.”

Her name fell from your lips and that’s all she could focus on, on the anger in your eyes that sparked something within her, that made her lick her lips. 

“I didn’t cheat if that’s what you’re saying,” Steve frowns, eyes lingering with disgust. 

“Of course you didn’t,” you chuckle in disbelief, “that’s why you had no problem getting into a new relationship only a day after breaking up with me, right?... I don’t know about you but I can’t imagine dating a friend, you do realize what it made you look like, right? A cheater, Steve, a goddamn cheater.” 

Steve swallows harshly, shoulders relaxing from the tension that resided in his body for the past minutes when he sees how glossy your eyes get, how pain is the only thing left in them, no ounce of anger showing anymore, only sadness and heartbreak that you had refused to show in these past months since he left. Seeing this, seeing through you, feels like a blow to his chest, something he refused to look at to avoid the regret is now right in front of him, on full display. 

You huff again, shaking your head as you take a step back and look between them, eyes meeting Nancy’s for a moment before you lower your head, glancing down at your drink, you bring it up to your lips and down the rest of it, you slam the empty cup on the counter and step back towards Steve, looking into the hazel eyes that you used to love so much, you pat his chest, “I wasn’t the one who left with no explanation, I wasn’t the one with the dirty secrets and I wasn’t the one who cheated and then accused you of doing it, asshole, so spare me your bullshit.” With one last glare, you step away from him and direct your gaze at the girl who can’t seem to tear her eyes away from you, you step towards her, unknowingly making her heart flutter, “I hope you can taste me when he’s kissing you.” 

You think that anger is what she feels from hearing your words but it’s not that at all, not even in the slightest. 

Her eyes follow you when you walk out of the room, brushing past Tina who looks like she is ready and excited to spread around what she just witnessed. The moment you are out in the hallway and making your way upstairs, she giggles loudly and runs off, making Steve roll his eyes. 

Nancy feels like something is pushing her, pushing her to walk the way you just did, to follow you upstairs, to talk to you… alone, to explain what had really happened this summer or these past few months. 

Billy’s laughter echoes through the room, a satisfied grin appearing on his face, one that Steve easily ignores, he slams his drink down next to your empty cup, not caring about spilling it. 

“I’m gonna get some fresh air,” he announces, sparing a poor glance at Nancy before he walks out of the room and out of the house, slamming the front door shut so loudly that it’s even heard over the music. 

“Sure,” Nancy mumbles when he is outside already, uninterested. Her mind is in a haze, body angling towards the stairs. Billy’s eyes are on her, intensely so, but she doesn’t bother to turn her head to look at him, her feet carry her out of the room before she can rethink the decision her mind had already made. She pushes past the people in the hallway, ignores the curious glances from Carol and Tommy. 

Her heart is pounding in her chest as she walks up the stairs, fingernails digging into her palms, she bites down on her lip nervously, letting her body move on its own accord. She doesn’t know where to look first, where to go but it's like something is leading her to her wanted destination. 

She finds you in one of the bedrooms, sitting at the end of bed with tears running down your cheeks, sniffles sounding through the quiet room, the lights from the hallway illuminating the dark room, you jump in surprise when you notice her in the doorway. 

“What the hell do you want?” 

Nancy sucks in a sharp breath, the guilt in her continuing to eat at her when she sees the pain in your glassy eyes before your expression hardens at the sight of her. You wipe your tears angrily and push yourself up, smoothing down your dress, you blink, trying to get rid of the tears. 

“I’m sorry I-I just wanted to–”

“What did you want?” You snap back, frowning in rage as you stalk towards her like she is your prey. “Did you want this room to yourself? Am I in your way? Oh, I’m sorry, let me just make space for you.” Your voice is sarcastic, your face angry but it does nothing to scare her or push her away from here. 

“No,” Nancy shakes her head, knowing all too well what you mean by those words. She sighs, “no, I just wanted to check up on you.” 

Her words are clearly something you weren’t expecting, because for a good moment, you’re dead silent, staring at her with confused eyes and parted lips — ones that Nancy can’t look away from. 

It would’ve been dead silent too if it wasn’t for the voices downstairs, for the loud music or the sound of laughter outside. 

“Check up on me!?” 

The anger on your face and in your voice should be enough of a reason for her to leave the room and avoid you, her brain is telling her that but her body… her body is telling her something entirely else. Somehow, you look even better with the fire behind your eyes, the burning gaze you look at her with, sets her lower stomach on fire, your skin looks even softer beneath this lightning, your lips look so… so kissable.

She can’t deny it any longer, not after months and months of observing and pining, even before she met Steve properly. It was never him that she looked at, it was never him that she wanted. 

“What? So you can laugh in my face and mock me? How you stole my boyfriend!?” 

Nancy shakes her head, “n-no, I’d never do that… I am… I’m sorry.”

You chuckle darkly but a hint of sadness is there too, she can’t even miss it. You roll your eyes at her and finally decide to step away, to leave this conversation that you never even wanted. But Nancy doesn’t even let you pass, in fact, she places herself in front of the door after slamming it shut, standing in your way with a stubborn look on her face. 

“What the— get out of my way, Wheeler.” 

“No.” Nancy shakes her head again, blue eyes burning into yours, cheeks glowing red. “I’m sorry, I really am, I-I know you hate me, I would too, what I did was… was messed up but I’m really, really sorry!” 

You can only stare in disbelief, blinking, you can feel your heart pounding and your chest hurting from it. 

You don’t need that, you don’t want that. 

You don’t want no apology, not from her and not from him. 

He betrayed you and he broke your heart, stomped on it like it was nothing, and then, he just moved on, right away, like you never meant anything to him, like he never loved you, like it was the easiest thing to just forget about you and date someone new. 

And Nancy, she never owed you anything, no loyalty or sympathy, but what she did still hurt, a lot. And her apology angers you in ways you can’t even describe with words. 

“Fuck you.” The way those words leave your lips followed by the venomous look in your eyes should make her feel intimidated, it should make her draw back and let you leave but instead, she feels any of what she should feel. Your anger makes her feel something she had never felt before, some sort of anticipation, a curiosity she never felt with any guy, not the cute guy from summer camp last year whose name she forgot, not Jerry Carlson who was the first ever to ask her out on a date, not Steve Harrington, no guy had ever made her feel the things that burn in her now, only you. 

Fuck. 

Only you. 

She can’t tear her eyes away from your lips any longer, she can’t fight the desire in her that calls your name, she can’t fight the urge to move closer to you and the way your eyes flicker to her lips, even if only for a second, gives her the push to take a step closer. 

You have to feel the tension too, right? 

The fire between you – maybe it’s only anger on your part but maybe, hopefully, it isn’t only that. 

Nancy’s heart starts pounding, she suddenly feels drunk, hazy. Her feet move on their own accord, her feelings act on their own, she no longer feels control over her own body. 

“You and Steve are unbelievable, you know that right?” You snap at her, flipping your hair over your shoulder, arrogantly. “He fucked me over and you helped. You both got what you wanted, you got each other, so why can’t you just leave me the fuck alone!?”

She doesn’t answer you. 

She doesn’t say anything. 

She just looks at you. 

Her eyes are almost unrecognizable, dark and barely blue, a wild look lingers in them as she stares at you like you’re her prey, like she’s about to eat you alive, maybe it should terrify you but it doesn’t, you are too angry to feel anything else. 

Nancy watches the way you roll your eyes like some goddamn brat and she is beginning to lose her patience with your attitude – she deserves it, she knows she does but her feelings overwhelm her and your bitchiness doesn’t help much. 

Enough of her silence, you move forward, about to push her aside so you can make your escape, you reach for the doorknob but freeze in your place when her hand wraps around your wrist and she gives you a stern look and it only angers you more, even when there is a small part of you that feels intrigued by the way she looks at you. 

“I swear to god, Nancy,” you sigh. 

There is guilt in her eyes, beneath the flames that linger and it irritates you so deeply. 

If she is burdened by guilt at this moment, then she must’ve been back then too and it only makes you wonder. 

“Why did you take him?” You ask, trying to hide the pain in your voice, trying to hide what you have been feeling for the past months. 

“I never wanted him.” 

Her own eyes widen after those words leave her lips, not out of shock but out of relief – the truth that’s been there all along, finally uncovered and revealed, not only to you but also to herself because a part of her didn’t want to see it, didn’t want to admit it, that it was you, that it was a girl whom she wanted. 

A gasp tears from your mouth and your eyes widen, hand falling from the doorknob you were holding onto so tightly, your heart lurches to your throat and something stirs within you. It takes you a long moment to realize what is happening, to realize what she is doing, to realize what she just confessed. 

You feel warmth, in your body, on your body, on your lips. You feel her hands cupping your cheeks, you taste her raspberry chapstick, the rum she must’ve had earlier, you feel the intensity radiating off her. 

She is kissing you. 

Nancy Wheeler is kissing you after confessing that it wasn’t him who she wanted. 

Your ex-boyfriend’s girl is kissing you like her life depends on it – lost in the kiss, she looks completely in bliss, with her eyes closed and her lips moving against yours passionately, softly in a way only a girl's lips can feel. 

She kisses you in a way no one else ever has before, with a kind of desperation and need that can only come from someone who has been longing for this moment for a long, long time and to your surprise it makes your stomach flutter but your confusion guides you, you raise your hands and press them against her shoulders, pushing her away from you with furrowed eyebrows and puffy lips. 

Your heart is racing, your thoughts are too. 

What the hell just happened?

Nancy slowly opens her eyes, cheeks flushed and eyes needy as they flicker back and forth between your eyes and your lips, like she’s hungry for you, like she yearns for you, like she needs and wants more. 

You open your mouth to speak but not a single word falls from your lips because what is there to say? You are confused, more than that you are irritated by the fact that the kiss made your stomach burn and your legs shaky, that it left you craving for another taste of the girl that stole your happiness but she looks at you like you’re… something special and it makes your heart flutter and it makes you angry because she is still Nancy Wheeler. She is still the girl who is the reason for all your hurt, she is the girl your Steve left you for. 

She blinks, lashes fluttering as her eyes soften, vulnerability crossing her face. 

“I wanted you.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, your face flusters at her confession. You don’t know what to think of it, of her. But that little voice in your head, that angry one that has been trying to take control over you these past few months is telling you to use this given opportunity to get back at him. 

She wants you. 

Steve’s girlfriend wants you. 

She looks at you like she is ready to drop everything and everyone for you. 

She is. 

Your eyes flicker to her lips, you can’t deny the fact that it felt good to feel them on yours and you can’t help but wonder what they would feel like in different places on your body. 

But you don’t know whether it’s the thrill, the curiosity or this opportunity that fell right into your hands. 

She wants you so very badly, you can see it in her blue eyes, the way she is practically begging for you to let her in, to let her have a taste, to let her have you, she is needy, not for Steve, no, not for him, for you, only for you. 

And who are you to pass up on an opportunity to have a good time and get your sweet revenge all at once? 

So after a lot of heavy breathing and contemplating, you break out of your trance and move forward, catching her by surprise this time, you grab her face and slam your lips against hers, earning a whimper from her the second you kiss her. 

Satisfaction rushes through you, numbing the anger and filling you with pleasure to know that this will ruin her. 

And him. 

Both of them. 

♡

tagging ppl who might be interested!!!

@thesickestqrmydcll @prettyboyeddiemunson @fanfic-fanatic-2024

[fairyysoup]

i can see you

♫︎ i can see you - taylor swift ♫︎

pairing(s): steve harrington x fem!reader

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

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

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

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

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

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

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

Hawkins High, September 1984

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

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

You stare a lot.

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

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

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

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

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

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

God, you wish you could kiss him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You scoff. “Look who’s talking.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hawkins High, April 1985

Prom season sucks. Always has, and always will. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

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

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

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

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

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

You didn’t even think he knew your name.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The guy’s a fucking douche.”

“Tell me about it.”

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

“Billy Hargrove?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Prom Night, May 1985

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

Except, well.

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck this. Fuck prom. Fuck high school boys.

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

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

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

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

“I’m not sulking.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who?”

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

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

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

“Kelly Palmer.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, I hope not.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steve Harrington is touching your face.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

“STEVE??!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wherever there is, it’s not with you.

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

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

Starcourt Mall, June 1985

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

“I’m sure they have slushies at the-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you ready?”

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

What did you say? What did he say?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can dig a few sprinkles.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You like it a lot. 

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

“What? No, I couldn’t-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I made it up.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

He scoops it up with two fingers and pockets it.

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

Family Video, March 1986

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, right after I last saw you?”

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

“I wish.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll be here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And again.

And again.

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

Sur La Table Restaurant, Chicago, April 1991

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

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

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

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

“Yes, ma’am. Right this way.” 

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

Logan Sawyer.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh my fucking god.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Great. I’ll have that, please.” 

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

“Are you serious?” Theo snaps. 

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

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

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

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

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

Steve shoots you a sideways glance. “Always.”

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

“So,” you begin, “what do you do?”

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

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

“My father owns the company.”

“Right.” God, help me. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s, um… that sounds like fun.”

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

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

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

“You just said-”

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

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

“It was fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Meet me outside- the door past the bathrooms. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t have to ask him twice.

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

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

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

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

“The price.”

“The price.”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Probably.” You wink. “Most likely.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You want him to do it all over your body.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your underwear is nowhere to be seen.

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

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

“The ice cream, or the porn?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Told you I’d get there, eventually.”

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

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

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

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

[lexirosewrites]

Ok hear me out the grammys r today & I am a swiftie

(PSA not Nancy Wheeler friendly & Billy Hargrove pops in like a jump scare but he's somehow better than Nancy??)

O!Steve loves his career, he gets to make music with his favorite producer & best friend ever B!Robin Buckley, he gets to tour his music around the world, his fans made it possible for him to pivot his career, & now he is free from the overbearing thumb of his previous record label. He's on top of the world, prepping to embark on his most ambitious & physically demanding tour of his career with a partner working on her own growing career in journalism

Then, Jonathan Byers messages him. He's a beta who works w A!Nancy Wheeler at her news network job where she's rising in the ranks as an investigative reporter. He confesses to Steve with evidence tht Nancy has been cheating on Steve w Jonathan for going on 3 months. Jonathan is ending things w Nancy & he felt Steve should know what Nancy has done & Jonathan emphasizes he feels terrible. Steve doesn't blame Jonathan necessarily, Steve is more upset w Nancy. So Steve breaks things off, gets professional movers to take all of her things out of his various apartments & homes & mail them all to her New York address all at once, gets her to give back every key she has, and Nancy doesn't even have the decency to pretend at remorse for how she's shattered him, just sneers & makes a remark abt him writing a song abt her as if the 5 years they were together meant nothing

Steve rebounds HARD

His begins his tour & decides to indulge in a relationship w blue eyed bad boy British actor Billy Hargrove, he's crass & abrasive & it ends like a car crash behind the closed doors of Steve's beloved Nashville apartment, but at least Billy parts w a statement tht shows the asshole is even more understanding than Nancy abt how Steve will write a song or 2 abt this

The show must go on & it does. It's during a break btwn cities tht his little step-brother Dustin sends him the link to a clip of a podcast

It's a group of 4 friends, two of them alphas, 1 a beta & 1 an omega man. 2 of them are involved in professional hockey. The podcast involves them playing d&d but they also chat for abt an hour at the start of every episode. The alpha Eddie Munson plays as star goalie of The Detroit Red Wings (a team his grandpa Otis cheers for) & the beta Felix calls plays from the box. While A!Jeff & O!Gareth both have lucrative careers in computer science & robotics. Gareth works w NASA & the Mars Rovers, no wonder Dustin likes the podcast his twerp of a brother is coworkers w Gareth

This particular clip is from the first hour of a recent episode & is abt how Eddie has been a not at all secret fan of Steve since his debut & how he got to see the tour when it stopped in Detroit & how it was the best show Eddie's ever seen. Eddie confesses he was a little sad to learn Steve isn't meeting anyone backstage during this tour as he puts himself on vocal rest as often as possible to maintain the ability to sing for 3 hours straight, because Eddie had a friendship bracelet he made with his number on it & he happily implies it was his phone number & the alpha graciously responds to the teasing abt having a long time celebrity crush on Steve

Steve is charmed

He only needs to send 2 messages to Dustin before he's sending a text to Eddie's personal number. They hit it off, they're both goofy in the same ways, Eddie is theatrical in a different but complimentary way, soon they're meeting up privately btwn stops on his tour & Eddie's prep for hockey season & then Steve is very publicly at a Red Wings game & soon after Eddie is in the very visible VIP tent at the New York show trading his own handmade bracelets w fans

& Steve ends the night w a lyric change he only told Robin about bc she's 50% of his impulse control just like he's 50% of her impulse control & they secretly recorded a remix of the encore song because they liked it so much. The lyric tht used to reference Nancy with "karma is the girl on the screen" is changed to "karma is the guy on the wings" which makes the crowd explode with noise

When the show is done Steve knows fans r waiting to see him exit the stadium waving one last goodbye for the night & he knows they see Eddie clearly waiting for Steve & tht they're all recording so he does something he's never done for a beau: he runs ahead of his security right into Eddie's arms & is swept into a kiss tht makes him feel like they're the only ppl in the world

The multiple videos from multiple angles go viral within minutes of posting & the internet descends into madness when the remix is dropped w the lyric change just 3 hours later, but Steve & Eddie r too busy cuddling in Steves nest in his NYC penthouse the both of them laughing at the ketchup blood in a bad slasher movie to care abt tht

biting both of them from happiness🥰

[katyswrites]

this love came back to me

PART 2 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol use, smoking, allusions to/discussions of smut, reference to virginity, minor angst, references to cheating, Billy Hargrove jumpscare, no use of y/n

Wordcount: 3.8k

Your sister is getting married - and you're thrilled for her. Yes, it means returning to Hawkins, years after moving away. But, as Maid of Honor, who are you to refuse? That is, until you run into Steve Harrington - an old high school flame. It's been over a decade, and a lot has changed - but in many ways, you're both still the same. And, as it turns out, he's invited to the wedding, much to your chagrin. Can you two keep it cool? Or will old feelings come bubbling to the surface?

First loves, broken hearts, and everything in between. A second-chance-romance, and the ultimate reckoning of two old friends. And, lots of champagne-induced antics.

PART 2 | i pictured you with other girls in love, and threw up on the street

July 13th, 1997

You stare up at the ceiling, hearing the house slowly start to wake up around you - your father in the kitchen, making coffee; the shower running, likely for Sarah. Your mother, chattering away to the dog like he’s a person as she makes the bed. It’s always this, the sounds of your family in the morning, that makes you feel like you’ve been thrust back into childhood. From every creak of the old hardwood floors, to the sprinklers starting up outside, it’s home. It’s comforting, if not disconcertingly nostalgic. You sigh, glancing at the alarm clock on your bedside table - 10:57am. You can’t be surprised, considering you were kept up all night - you were already stressed about the bachelorette party you planned going well tonight, and your unexpected encounter with Steve isn’t helping.

Seeing him shouldn’t have rattled you this much, but it has. He seems well, a fact that actually brings you some relief, considering everything that happened to him after high school. Still, it’s strange, seeing him be so different, and simultaneously just as you remembered him.

You force yourself to get out of bed, padding downstairs to the kitchen.

“Oh look! The dead arose and appeared to many!” your mom chimes.

You grumble. “Morning. Coffee?”

She nods, and you make your way over to the pot to pour yourself some.

“So, you went out in town last night?” your mother asks, instinctively placing a plate of toast in front of you. 

You nod, spreading some of her special homemade jam on a triangle of toast.

“Yeah - checking out all the places we’re going tonight ahead of time.”

“You meet up with any old friends?”

You freeze for a second, nearly choking on your coffee.

“Um - most of my old friends don’t live in town anymore, Mom,” you say quietly.

“Well, I hope you know that… it’s so nice having you here, and you’re welcome to come back and visit, any time.”

You sigh - you’ve been through this before. “I do come home to visit, Mom.”

“Only for Christmas -”

“I have a life in New York, Mom - a job, a fian-”

You stop yourself, but she hears it. You see the absolute pity in her face, and want to scream.

“Oh, sweetheart - I know these last few months have been hard for you -”

“Please, don’t,” you beg - you knew somebody would bring it up this week, but you were really hoping your own mother would know better.

“I’m just saying - if you ever wanted to move closer -”

“Well I don’t,” you insist. “I’m not only living out there because of…him. I like my life there.”

She just shakes her head.

“Fine - but, it’s okay to still be sad, honey -”

“Well, I’m not,” you insist. 

It’s then that your sister, Sarah, saves the day, bounding into the kitchen.

“Good morning!” she says, cheerily. You shake off the conversations and grin as she gives you a big hug from behind.

“How long have you been up?” you ask, eyeing the fact that she’s already fully dressed.

“Since about 7 - went to the gym, had to pick up the namecards for the wedding - oh, and I took Sadie out for a walk -”

You glance at the family dog, fast asleep in the corner, and laugh - Sarah has always been a morning person, so… the opposite of you.

“I love how productive you are, honey,” your mom says pointedly, pouring her a cup of coffee.

You clench your fist, but say nothing, munching on your toast.

“Excited for tonight?” you try to ask cheerily.

“Oh, so excited - you know, I know it’s just a bar crawl through our little town, but it’ll mean a lot to do it with you and all the girls, like old times, you know?”

You nod, offering a smile - Sarah has always been so bright and bubbly, it’s hard to believe you two are related. It’s the thing that makes everyone love her, like she’s a little ball of sunshine. It sometimes gets to be a bit much, but when she smiles at you, you can’t help but feel the need to protect her from anything that comes her way, ever since you were a kid.

“Yeah - I’m surprised you wanted to come home to do it, though.”

“Why not? The whole wedding weekend will be up in the city, and I wanted to visit the old Hawkins stomping ground -”

“Ah, yes - fond memories of blacking out in the alley behind Hag’s Head on Thanksgiving Eve,” you say sarcastically.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun - a night with just the girls, before I’m boring and married. Besides, maybe you’ll even meet someone, yeah?”

You shake your head, laughing to yourself. “In Hawkins? I doubt it, but - it’ll be fun, you’re right.”

*******

She is right - you all have fun that night. Perhaps a bit too much fun.

The night stars fairly calmly - you go to all the best bars your little hometown had to offer - Hag’s Head, Industry, Katie McConnell’s, and of course, Christopher’s. By the time your group had gets there, the atmosphere is quite different from the night before - instead of a middle-aged cover band, a DJ is set up, with club lights and a disco ball, the tables used for serving shitty food pushed aside to make something that resembles a dancefloor.

You, and all of the other girls, are properly drunk. Sarah is in the phase where she tells everybody how much she loves them, including strangers; her friends Nancy and Robin are just giggly, immediately getting lost on the dancefloor when a song the like starts blasting. You order a round of shots, and then another. At one point, you lose sight of Sarah, as she seemingly disappears into the bathroom with her friend Chrissy. The last thing you remember is going out to the back deck for a smoke, followed by another round of shots. Despite the rest of the bachelorette party showing no signs of slowing down, you tell yourself that you should leave early and try to call a cab to get home - things get fuzzy after that. 

The next morning, you wake with a pounding headache - the moment the morning sun pierces through the blinds, you groan, trying to block it out with a pillow. After a few moments of tossing and turning, you realize it’s no use. 

You sit up slowly, rubbing your eyes - what happened? How did you get home?

You survey your surroundings, your mind still foggy with sleep, and freeze - you’re not in your home. 

You realize you’re actually sitting on a pullout couch, not a bed - and still in your clothes from last night.

You stand up quickly, an action you instantly regret, grasping a coffee table for leverage as the room around you sways.

The living room you’re in is somewhat sparsely decorated, with only an old Back To The Future framed poster hanging on the wall by the TV. There’s a couch, a rather large television, a bookshelf, and a little coffee table. You glance around, and peek out the blinds - you’re on a second level, you realize, likely in an apartment building.

You try not to panic - you aren’t injured, as far as you can tell. Beyond the killer hangover setting in, you feel perfectly fine.

A sound from another room makes you stop in your tracks - footsteps, and the sound of glass clinking, perhaps. Your fight-or-flight instincts immediately kick in, your heart pounding. You look around, seeing if there’s anything you can use to protect yourself.

It takes several moments before you settle on grabbing a book off the shelf, the largest one you can find, and you follow the sound of the noise, slowly.

As you get closer, you realize it’s coming from what must be the kitchen, and you hear the sound of footsteps again, and a cabinet closing. You raise the book above your head, ready to strike whoever has seemingly kidnapped you.

You turn the corner, peeking around the doorway, trying not to make a sound. It’s then that you see someone shuffling around the kitchen, and smell coffee brewing. The moment you realize who it is, you sigh with relief, loud enough that he turns around.

“Hey, you’re up - why are you -”

Steve Harrington is staring at the book raised high above your head, brow furrowed.

“Were you trying to take me out or something?” he asks apprehensively.

You slowly lower the book, feeling your face heat with embarrassment.

“Maybe. I thought -”

“You thought what?” he asks, handing you a mug of coffee, simultaneously taking the book from you, gently.

“That, I don’t know, you kidnapped me or something.”

He stares at you for a moment, and bursts out laughing.

“What?”

“Kidnapped you? You’re nearly 30 years old -”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, well, I thought - I woke up in a stranger’s house, and don’t remember how I got here - sorry for being a little cautious -”

He just laughs, turning the intended weapon over in his hand.

“Just you and the Revised 1992 Merriam-Webster Dictionary against the world, huh?”

You want to collapse in on yourself, and just sigh in defeat.

“Steve, why the fuck am I in your apartment?”

He sighs, leaning back against the counter. He crosses his arms, taking a sip of coffee before he speaks.

“What do you remember?”

You think for a moment, biting your lip as you sit at the kitchen table.

“Um - I remember - going to Christopher’s -”

“Always the scene of the crime, apparently -”

“Shut up -”

He does, but he’s fighting a smile, his tongue pressed into his cheek.

“Anyways - I was with my sister, and her friends - I lost most of them, I got another shot at the bar, bummed a cigarette off someone - it gets blurry after that.”

Steve nods, his face contemplative.

“What?”

“Okay, so - I probably found you not too long after that.”

“Found me?”

“Yeah - um - I heard the commotion -”

“You were there?”

He sighs. “Sort of - um - we’re actually above Christopher’s, right now. I rent the place above it.”

You stare at him, the pieces falling into place.

“Oh - so… that’s why you were there the other night -”

He shrugs. “If I want a beer, it’s nice to technically not even have to go outside for it. But, um - I heard some screaming and commotion, and went down there to see what was going on - you had gotten kicked out.”

Your eyes widen.

“I what?”

“Yeah - you were throwing up on the sidewalk -”

“Jesus -”

“- and crying. Like, a lot. Something about - some guy named Billy -”

You feel your heart plummet. Then, you groan, burying your face in your hands.

“What?”

“That - that’s my ex. Um - oh my god, I’m such a cliché! Getting blackout drunk, and crying over some guy - at my I bachelorette - wait -” you think for a moment, “- where the fuck was she? Or any of her friends?”

He shrugs. “Don’t know - I tried to find her, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to leave you, crying on the sidewalk. So… I brought you upstairs. You kept apologizing, telling me to just let you walk home, it was almost cute.”

You want the ground to swallow you up, and never have to see him again, not after that display.

“I - I’m sorry -”

“It’s cool,” he assures. “I pulled out my couch, put you to bed there. I tried to get you to drink some water but you kind of… fought me -”

“Sorry -”

“- so, I just put you to bed.”

You nod, thinking. If it’s possible to die of embarrassment, you probably should be collapsing on the spot.

“And, um - did we - I mean, we didn’t have -”

His eyes widen, and he aggressively shakes his head. “No! Definitely not - you were way too drunk, I - I just put you to bed, I swear.”

You nod - he seems sincere, and horrified that you’d even ask.

“Okay - cool, just checking. When I get drunk, sometimes I tend to -”

“I wouldn’t have let you,” he says, his tone serious.

There’s an awkward silence, and just just take another deep gulp of coffee.

He eventually clears his throat.

“I’ve got, um - Ibuprofen, for the headache -”

“Oh - how did you know -”

“There’s no way you got that bad last night and don’t have a headache.”

You sigh, conceding, because it’s true. He disappears down the hallway for a moment, before returning with a bottle of pills. You watch him move about the kitchen, fetching a water glass from a cabinet, and filling it at the sink. He hands it to you, and you offer a small smile in thanks, swallowing the medicine.

“So… you live here?” you ask casually. 

“Yeah,” he says. “I stayed in town to work for my old man, but - I got my own place as soon as a could. Even if it’s a shitty place above the loudest bar in town.”

You laugh, staring down at your coffee.

“It’s not shitty - you just need to decorate more - a Back To The Future poster isn’t cutting it.”

He looks at you like you shot him.

“I’ll have you know that poster is very precious to me, as I stole it from Starcourt Mall before it burned down in ‘85 -”

“Whatever - it still looks like a college dorm in here.”

He just smirks, and dumps the rest of his coffee down the sink.

“You know - you never struck me as the kind of girl who cries over her ex when she gets drunk,” he says, avoiding your gaze.

You sigh, crossing your arms.

“I’m not, usually.”

He stares at you for a moment, and nods.

“You don’t have to talk about it -”

“I was engaged,” you explain quickly. You look up, and see his mouth hanging halfway open, dumbfounded.

“You? Engaged?”

“Don’t sound so surprised -”

“No - shit, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just… I remember - you were always that girl who was all like, marriage is a construct and it’s archaic and -”

“I know,” you say, cringing a bit at your younger self. “But, I grew up, and my priorities changed - or maybe they didn’t, I don’t know -”

“Why did he break it off?” he asks, his voice a bit softer.

“What makes you think he ended it?”

“Oh - only because - you seemed really upset -”

“I ended it because - I - I caught him in bed with his coworker. In our apartment -”

“Oh - Jesus -”

“He begged me to not call off the wedding, it was only a couple of months away, but - I had to. Nearly 4 years, down the drain -”

“Hey - I’m sorry -” he murmurs, reach out to touch your arm, but you pull it away.

“It’s fine - looking back, he was an asshole anyway, even without the cheating. I just - he proposed, and I said yes, and - I really thought - I’d have a ‘normal’ life. I’m not the kind of girl that guys want to, you know, introduce to their parents, get married to, buy a house with - but here’s someone who seemed to want that, so I just -”

You stop yourself, glancing at Steve. “Sorry - that became a rant really fast -”

“It’s fine,” he reassures. “It sounds like… a lot. How long ago?”

“Uh - about 6 months ago, at this point - I - I thought I was doing better with the whole thing, but apparently not -”

“I mean - it’s okay to still be upset -”

“I know it is,” you snap, causing him to recoil slightly. You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. “Sorry - I just - it’s my fucking family.”

“What about them?”

You exhale, exasperated.

“It’s just - I can tell they - they’re all pitying me. They all think Sarah’s wedding will be too hard on me, and - fuck, maybe it will, because I thought the next wedding I’d be going to was mine, but - they keep trying to bring it up, like they’re afraid I’m going to kill myself in front of everyone at the ceremony or something. And - I’m so, so happy for Sarah, she and Peter are perfect together. But, I - I think they’re worried I haven’t moved on, and never will. They keep reminding me that I have a plus one for the wedding, that I should use it, all this bullshit. I thought I was fine, but - I guess last night says otherwise.”

Steve just nods for a moment, and you can tell he’s lost in thought.

“What?”

“Nothing - it’s just - it’s stupid -”

You can tell that the gears in his brain are still turning, and you roll your eyes.

“Whatever it is, spit it out -”

“What if you did have a date to the wedding?”

A beat of silence passes. You just stare at each other.

“What?”

He shrugs. “I mean - I’m already going, so, you won’t piss your sister off with a last-minute addition -”

“Are you fucking insane?”

He laughs. “What? Is it really such a bad idea?”

“Um, yes?”

“It just might be fun, that’s all, and get your family off your back,” he says, holding up his hands in defense.

“I’m not - I’m not going to tell people think we’re together -”

“You don’t have to - just let people make their assumptions. They’ll think you’ve moved on and shit, and… we can just go together, as friends.”

You scoff.

“What?”

“You really consider us friends?” you ask incredulously.

“I mean, what would you call us?”

You don’t have an answer to that - what do you call the guy you were kind of friends with in high school, who took your virginity, and then you didn’t speak to in over a decade until he saved you from passing out in the street? Suddenly that dictionary from earlier feels like something you could really use to try and find the right word.

Then, something occurs to you - if Steve is still anything like he was in high school, that means -

“What’s in it for you?” you ask, crossing your arms.

“Who says there’s something in it for me?”

You shake your head. “No, because there has to be. You’re not doing this out of the goodness of your heart, Harrington.”

He holds your gaze for a moment, then gives in, letting out a deep sigh.

“Fine, fine - I told you I RSVP’d yes to the wedding because, well, Pete’s an old friend, and it’s only in Indianapolis, not too far out of my way. But -”

“But?”

“I didn’t realize Nancy was gonna be there, okay? And honestly, I don’t really love the idea of seeing her.”

“Nancy Wheeler? I was out with her last night -”

You think for a moment, then it dawns on you.

“Oh my god - I forgot that you two used to date -”

“Yeah, well, it didn’t end well. And yeah, I can be mature, be in the same room with her, especially in a crowd. But - fuck, I heard she got engaged recently, and -”

“You don’t want her to seem like she’s doing better than you?”

He nods.

“It’s stupid - I shouldn’t be worried about making her jealous, or some shit -”

“Let’s do it, then.”

He pauses, doing an honest-to-god double take.

“What?”

“Don’t look so surprised, it was your idea -”

“I know, but - I never thought you’d say yes -”

“You’re right - everyone will stop worrying all about me if I have a date. And… Nancy can think you’re not still single.”

“No need for the still, but okay -”

“Do you want to do this, or not?”

There’s an uncomfortable moment of silence. He stares at you, as if he’s searching in your eyes for some kind of reassurance. Then, the slightest hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“Okay, here’s to - whatever this is,” you say, extending your hand to him. His eyes flick down to it for a moment, then he shakes it, his large, calloused hand enveloping yours.

You pull away for a moment, smirking.

“I think this is gonna be fun, actually,” you say, noticing that his face has become a little pink.

You hear the churchbell from the center of town chime. You glance down at your watch, and your eyes widen.

“It’s noon already? Shit, I need to get home -”

“I’ll drive you,” he says, grabbing his keys from the counter.

“It’s fine -”

“No, I’m driving you. Your parents still live on Soundview?”

“Um… yes,” you reply, shocked he still remembers.

The drive back to your parents’ house is relatively short, and also very quiet. Aside for the hum of the engine and low crackle of the radio, there’s not much to fill the space.

When Steve turns onto your street, you speak up.

“Thank you, again - for saving my ass, and letting me crash last night.”

“Anytime,” he says, eyes straight ahead on the road.

“Well, hopefully that’s only a one-time thing.”

He chuckles, slowing down as your childhood home becomes visible on the left.

“Yeah, well - for what it’s worth, that guy was an idiot for cheating on you like that.”

“I know he was, I’m great,” you reply bluntly, making Steve laugh.

“I forgot that you’re… like this.”

“Like what?”

“Brutally honest. And… very sure of yourself.”

You shake your head, staring down at your hands in your lap.

“I’m not as sure of myself as you think,” you say quietly. Before he can respond, you’re unbuckling yourself, popping open the car door.

“Thanks for the ride.”

He nods.

“See you Thursday?” you ask.

“Isn’t the wedding Saturday?”

“Yeah, but - if you’re really going to be my date, you should probably come to the rehearsal dinner with me. And, the welcome drinks. Plus, I have to get there a day early to help Sarah set up.”

He groans, dramatically slamming his head on the wheel.

“Hey, this was your idea -”

“I know -”

“There’s an open bar.”

He stops, and straightens up, grinning.

“See you Thursday - I’ll come pick you up -”

“You don’t have to,” you interject.

“C’mon - if we’re really doing this little… performance… we should go all-in.”

You sigh, exasperated by him.

“See you Thursday, sweetheart.”

Before you can protest the petname, he’s rolling up the window, and pulling away. You get the message across well enough, flipping him off as he backs away. You see him laugh through the windshield, and return the gesture before tearing away.

Despite your headache and exhaustion, you feel yourself smiling as you close the front door behind you, Sadie barking and running up to you. You crouch to pet her, and hear your name being called.

When you look up, you see Sarah, face etched with concern.

“Do you know how many people we were calling to figure out if you were alive or not?”

You can’t help but laugh in disbelief. Sarah puts her hands on her hips, clearly pissed off.

“What? It’s not funny -”

“You abandoned me at the bar last night -”

“Abandoned? You left before us!”

“Bullshit -”

“You said you were tired and wanted to go home, but we weren’t ready, so you left the bar and said you were calling a cab -”

You think for a moment, wracking your brain to sort through the fuzzy memories.

“Sarah - I was so drunk, I didn’t know what I was saying, there’s no chance I was capable of calling a cab. I - I guess that’s what I meant to do, but -”

“So, where did you go?”

You pause - how do you explain this one? She looks at you, expectantly.

“I - I ended up at Steve Harrington’s apartment.”

It takes a moment for the information to register with her, then she gasps excitedly.

“Wait - did you and him -”

“Well, no -”

But she’s positively beaming, barely listening as she grabs you by the shoulders.

“He’s so hot, are you kidding? He’s like, the only eligible bachelor in this town -”

“Okay, relax -”

“I just - you and him kind of make sense, you know? I always thought you two would’ve been cute together back in the day -”

“Well - I mean, we - it’s not important, because last night -”

But, you stop yourself - Sarah’s reaction does spark something in you - it makes you realize that you and Steve’s silly scheme might actually work, for both of you.

“Actually,” you say, holding her still. “You’re right - I’m going to need you to make some changes to the seating arrangements at the wedding, Sarah. Because… I have a plus one, now.”

author's note: hey everyone! I know this was a very quick succession between chapters... likely, the next thing I post will be the next part of put on your records (and regret me). I have a fairly clear vision of where I'd like this fic to go, but I'd love to hear your thoughts! As always, likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated!

[ladykailitha]

A Love Connection Part 1

In a very special engagement (as in a don't normally post 5 days a week), I introduce "A Love Connection"!

If the premise looks familiar the original idea is from here, where a couple of people in the notes or tags said they'd love to try it. And after a year, I figured I'd try my own hand at the idea.

This will update on Tuesdays at 10am and 10pm EST. With hopefully eight chapters.

Summary: Steve has tried everything under the sun to find someone to truly connect with, so he gives up after a particularly horrible date. Then Chrissy introduces him to her favorite game show "Love Connection". When Chrissy and Robin apply for him, they don't think they'll except him, but he does. His suitors are Billy Hargrove, Tommy Hagan, and Eddie Munson. Will Steve crash and burn again or will his connection be there waiting for him?

~

Look, to say Steve’s love life was a disaster would be unfair. That would be underselling it. It was a fucking catastrophe. He had gone to bars, joined hobby groups, used all the apps, even Grindr; though that was mostly for hookups, which sucked. But that was the nature of the beast if he was honest.

And the beast had completely devoured him. All his dates were either only interested the casual, cheated on him, or wanted one-night stands. Which Steve absolutely did not want. He wanted connection. Intimacy.

“I absolutely give up,” he whined to Robin, after the last date tried to slip out in the middle of the night, knocked over their lamp into their goldfish bowl, killing the goldfish, then he tried to hide the evidence by dumping it down the garbage disposal and turning it on! Lied about it, then stole their last beer as “compensation for his trauma’ and told Steve to never call him again.

“Look, Ryan wasn’t the best guy,” Robin replied with a grimace. “He liked Oasis and Tool unironically. Always a red flag.”

Steve snorted. Robin was a music snob most days, but she wasn’t wrong about that. Ryan and he had been dancing around and with each other for weeks before they finally got so hot and heavy that they went back to Steve’s for sex.

“It’s not fair,” he huffed. “You went to that bar and you a hottie girlfriend and I went to that bar and fucked a fish killer! I loved Garfield! He lived for five years before that bastard mercilessly murdered him. That’s long than my last ten relationships combined!”

Robin winced. “Ooh... I’m going to have to call Chrissy and let her know we can’t go back to that gay bar again.”

“Oh he’s so dead now!” Steve ranted. “Not only is he fish killer, he has driven us from our favorite bar!”

“Let me order us some take out,” Robin said standing up, “then I’ll call Chrissy over and we’ll all cry over Ciarán Hinds and Amanda Root falling in love.”

Steve sniffed away a couple of tears and nodded. “Then can we have a funeral for Garfield?”

Robin tilted her head and smiled sadly. “Of course we can. It’s a Sunday so none of us have work. We can watch as many weepy romance movies as you want, okay?”

“Okay,” Steve croaked. She gave him a big hug and kissed his cheek. He watched her wander into the kitchen to see what leftovers they had in the fridge so they could order from somewhere else. He loved her so much.

~

Sometime in the afternoon when they were more than a little tipsy, Chrissy commandeered the remote and turned on her favorite game show.

“Love Connection”

“Noooo...” Steve whined, burying his head into a throw pillow. It was Garfield shaped. It was what inspired the naming of the valiant fish. “This is the last thing I want to see. It’s so fake. No one gets together on these things. It’s so cheesy.”

“Exactly!” Chrissy crowed. “That’s why it’s perfect, we get to make fun of them!”

Steve thought that the only good part of the show was the second half. The first half was split into three different rounds. The first round was each suitor answer the one question, for a total of fifteen and then the catch would rank them, best got three points, second two, and third only one.

Then in the second round there were a set of rapid fire either or questions that the catch would yell out and the suitors would write down their answers. If their answer matched the catch’s they would get a tally. Whoever had the most tallies would win five points. Then three points to second place and one to the last place.

Then in the final round, each suitor would be asked separate questions and the catch would rate their answer one through three and that’s how many points they would get. Then at the end of the round all the points would be tallied up and the two highest would move on to the next round.

To the part that Steve actually liked. The first question always asked was “what would you do for a first date?” And the suitors got to take the catch out for the date and then afterward for drinks, the two dates would ask the catch some of the questions he asked them. Then the catch would pick the one they connected to the best.

It was all the stupid questions that bothered Steve. That was the fun part of dating, having these conversations and learning about them as you go. But then maybe that’s what Steve’s problem was, is that the people he dated didn’t care about these types of conversations.

“Why would you say you hate sports,” Steve huffed, waving his hand at the screen, “when the guy is a major soccer fan? Like did she think that she was going to put a stop to him enjoying it after starting dating?”

“Ooh yeah,” Chrissy agreed. “Just pick a different catch.”

Robin turned to her and tilted her head. “Do they get to chose their catch? I thought it was all random.”

Chrissy paused the show and pulled out her phone and the Wikipedia article. “Okay, it says here that people can apply to be suitors,” she waved at the row of women in the three booths. “Or catches.” She indicated the guy with her hand. “If they’re chosen to be a suitor then they are given a list of catches, headshot included. Then they rank vote them, so if four people pick Henry, then one will be on their second rank vote. And that part is randomized. According to them, anyway.”

Steve snorted. He highly doubted anything was randomized or voted on. They went for the biggest drama and everyone knew it.

“How long has this show been going on?” he huffed. “Like please tell it’s new and shiny and that’s why people like it.”

Robin snorted and shook her head. “Sorry, babe. But this is season twelve.”

“Oohh...” Chrissy said. “We need to show him the season six finale. That was hella juicy!”

So despite Steve’s protests, Chrissy pulled it up on her streaming services even though they hadn’t even finished the episode they were on.

When the credits rolled, Steve stared at the screen in utter shock. “What the honest fuck was that?”

Two of the three guys got into an all out brawl when the one guy had scored the lowest and felt that the second place suitor cheated. Not first place, second. Both guys were arrested and hauled off the set.

“It came out later Sven was right,” Robin said. “Elliot cheated. His cousin was an ex of the catch so he went in knowing a lot about Stella. The things he got wrong were things that had changed since she was dating his cousin.”

Chrissy nodded. “That’s why the have partitions up between the suitors now and why they have vigorous screening now. The show was almost canceled.”

“So why wasn’t it?” Steve asked honestly. “That was a shit show, if I was Stella I would have sued them into oblivion.”

Robin squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. “She did, but they settled out of court.”

“Basically,” Chrissy said, pouring them more wine and handing the first glass to Steve, “she wanted them to completely overhaul the system. She didn’t want it off the air, she wanted it safer for future participants.”

“The more the fool them,” Steve huffed. He took a long sip of his wine. “All right, fine. Let’s start at the beginning.”

Robin and Chrissy cheered and they all huddled up together on the sofa to watch this absolute train wreck of a show.

They were about half way through the third season and twice as drunk when Steve slurred, “Why are there no gay peemles in this? It’s a trav–trad–tramajesty.”

“Travesty!” Robin slurred back, her language skills always being the last to go when she’s three sheets to the wind. “And you are absolutely right! This is homophobic!”

Chrissy nodded solemnly and pulled out her phone. “I’mma show them...” she muttered with her tongue sticking out. “At loveconnectionUSA Need more gays, hashtag loveconnection hashtag need more gays.”

It wasn’t long after that that the three of them passed out on the sofa, empty bottles all around them and a message on the screen asking if they’re still watching.

~

There was a loud beeping noise and it absolutely was hurting his head. He reached over to where his phone was usually plugged in on his nightstand, but his hand went straight through it. He waved his arm all over the place but still his nightstand eluded him.

He peaked open one eye but his vision was obscured by a mass of blonde hair. He tried to push it out of the way but it kept falling back into his face. Finally he pushed Robin off him and onto the floor with a thud.

“Hey!” she yelped.

Steve peered over the edge of the sofa with a look of confusion. “Why are you on the floor?” he muttered over the still beeping of his alarm.

“Stop!” he mumbled and somehow, blissfully it did.

“I’m on the floor because you pushed me there,” Robin huffed, getting to her feet. She did a sniff test and grimaced when she completely failed. “God... how much did we drink yesterday?”

Chrissy struggled to sit up and blinked at her girlfriend groggily. “Not enough if I feel like this.”

Steve rolled over and looked at them both in confusion, then the events of Saturday and all day Sunday came flooding back in.

“Oh fuck...” he muttered, sitting up himself and rubbing his face. One eye was blurry from where his contact had shifted in the night. He wasn’t even sure why he had them on. Probably from sheer force of habit.

He got up and stumbled toward the bathroom where he emptied his stomach of all its boozy contents. He really didn’t remember them eating after breakfast, only a steady stream of harder and harder liquor.

While his was puking his guts out, Chrissy and Robin stole the shower. Thankfully only taking the time they needed to get the gross feeling of being hungover off their skin.

Then Steve closed his eyes as they exited the shower and snuck into Robin’s room to get ready for work. They all worked at Hawkins Middle School, where Steve was a history teacher who coached swimming and basketball. Chrissy was a health teacher and advisor for cheerleading. And Robin was the language teacher. The principal snatched her up because she could teach French, Spanish, and Italian, with her only needing to hire a German teacher.

Steve got his shower and then opted for glasses instead of his contacts, not trusting his shaky hands not poke out his eye or some shit.

They all were mostly human once they got coffee, painkillers, and cereal in them, the three of them, no doubt looking like escaped extras from a zombie flick. They moved as one, gathering up their stuff and shuffling out to Steve’s car. Chrissy sat in the back, Robin riding shotgun.

Chrissy opened her phone to check to see if she had any messages. “Holy shit!”

~

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Look I'd be sorry about the cliffhanger, but you're only waiting 12 hours for it, soooo...

Have fun!

Tag List: TEN SLOTS OPEN

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2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

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6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

[the-witty-pen-name]

Everything that I Wanted (3)

Eddie Munson x F!Reader / Billy Hargrove x F!Reader 

Word Count: 4.9k 

Synopsis: Love triangle between your best friend Eddie and your first boyfriend, Billy Hargrove that spans over many years as you get everything you think you ever wanted. However, your life doesn’t play out how you expected it, starting from the first time you’re asked out on a date. 

Warnings: 18+ MDNI; SMUT (piv sex; oral f receiving), angst, language, depictions of a toxic relationship (physical force; manipulation, coercion/guilting & isolation from peers); fighting/violence;

A/N: Comments & Reblogs are always appreciated! Please let me know what you think! Thank you so much @munsonsmixtapes @punkrockmlchael @keeryhours @losingmygrasponreality @fizzing-imagines - everyone for letting me yap & helping me!

PART ONE PART TWO

Stranger Things Masterlist

The ache that settled deep inside you festered in ways you never imagined before. As the weeks passed, your thoughts were consumed with Eddie and how it was becoming unbearable to not be around your best friend. You craved being surrounded by him like you used to be before. You wanted to be in his room, surrounded by his things and his mess. You wanted to smell his signature scent of cologne and weed with the hint of cigarette smoke that always lingered on his shirts. 

You thought Billy would’ve been your be all, end all. But you were realizing there was so much more that you needed that he didn’t give to you. His attention was something that you began to feel like needed to be earned, and you had to lure him towards you- it made you feel like he was indifferent. He didn’t care if you were there at all. Everything felt like it revolved around Billy and you’d let yourself get lost in it. You were beginning to see the way the scale tipped. 

The first time you’d dreamt about Eddie you thought it was a fluke. A side effect of the bad weed since you couldn’t buy (he never let you pay) from Eddie. You rationalized that the substance in your system was to blame. Until it happened again… and again… and you couldn’t explain them all away. You’d dream that he’d settle himself between the apex of your thighs, and stay there for what felt like hours- telling you how much he loved you. It was like everything Billy didn’t offer you, dream Eddie would make a reality. 

It would always be roughly the same thing each time it had happened. You only remembered small glimpses:  His bed with wrinkled sheets; his hands and the coolness of his rings on your skin; the image of his hands holding your thighs; his head between your legs and his curly hair looking wild. 

Billy was none the wiser to your secret fantasies that you harbored for your best friend. His own defense mechanisms of locking himself away kept him from really being able to fully see how his actions were affecting you. It wasn’t that he didn’t care- it was that he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to be a boyfriend, and he was so scared about losing you that he didn’t realize you’d been silently gaining the courage to move on. His tight grip would just cause you to slip from his grasp despite how hard he tried to keep the world out. 

You’d been dating Billy for about two months and your mind was becoming more preoccupied with Eddie with each passing day. You became so vigilant- knowing when you could steal glances or a smile when Billy wasn’t looking. It felt like cheating. It was a thrill and you didn’t know why you couldn’t just cut the ties and break up with Billy. You wanted nothing more than to just run back into Eddie’s arms, be surrounded by your friends and go back to your old life. You were scared. 

You were scared of how Billy would react. The next layer was that you were scared that after you broke up with Billy, your friends would want nothing to do with you. You can picture being turned away by Hellfire- banished for your crimes of treason. Gareth wouldn’t forgive you, the best friend that abandoned him. You couldn’t blame him. And Eddie, not only would he never forgive you- he’d reject you if you could ever tell him how you were beginning to feel. They’d have every right to hate you- for all you know they do hate you. 

You’re not happy when you’re with Billy- not anymore, like you maybe were once. But leaving isn’t easy, still. The what-if’s plague your mind. Maybe being with Billy isn’t ideal right now, but it’s what you’ve come to know. Breaking up with him opens a box of so many unknowns and that thought itself also scares you. You’d be completely and utterly alone- left to your own devices. 

You don’t remember how the argument started as you followed closely behind Billy, speed walking to catch up to him as he was storming to his car. He always did this- shut you out and leave whenever a fight got a little too real. The topic of Hellfire came up again, and Billy was pissed that after everything, you still wouldn’t just let it go. At this point, you had been yelling after him to come back and talk it through- everyone in the parking lot staring at the two of you instead of leaving immediately after school. You were too pent up to care. You were done. He was about to get in his car and drive off without you. 

“Fine! You know what? I’m done!” You exclaim loudly, throwing your hands up in defeat. 

“What the fuck are you sayin?” Billy says, turning around to face you and slamming the car door- loudly. It was startling, the noise and you were surprised it didn’t fall off the car honestly. It made you wince- the confidence you had a few seconds ago completely evaporated. 

“We’re over,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady and you take a deep breath to try to keep up your strong front. Billy laughs, actually laughs, shaking his head and crossing his arms. 

“You don’t mean that,” he says in disbelief. He’s silently waiting- holding his breath that you aren’t serious. He doesn’t let himself even think about the idea of losing you- it would be too much for him to bear. In his mind, you and him were an absolute truth. You’d made him feel and experience so much in such a short time- there’s no way you’d give it all up. He couldn’t see how he’d been pushing you away. 

“I’m breaking up with you,” you say, matter of factly. He spirals, and panics- his heart completely dropping into his stomach. If he was a different guy, with a different father, maybe Billy would’ve known how to fix this. He would know how to apologize, he would know to fall to his knees and beg for you, he would know how to be gentle and promise to do better. That’s not who he is- not yet. “I’m going,” you say, turning on your heels to leave him behind. 

You can’t leave him. He needed you, wanted you too badly. He couldn’t let you just walk away. He strides over to you and grasps your arm. He’s too emotional to realize how tight his grip is on you, and he’s just so focused on keeping you from walking away so he can talk this out- he doesn’t realize at first how truly scared you look. 

“Let me go,” you struggle against his grasp, but it’s like his brain doesn’t register what’s happening. He can’t retract his arm, or you’ll be gone forever. But then he sees your eyes, and he recognizes the look all too well. It’s in that moment, that Billy realizes that he’s becoming what he always swore he wouldn’t- he’s his father. Before Billy can even process the realization of this horrific truth, he’s suddenly on the ground, head to the pavement as he falls backwards. 

Eddie had emerged out of the woods from behind the school just in time to witness the entire scene between you and Billy from a distance. He had his metal lunchbox tucked under his arm as he recounted the cash he just received from one of the football players. Tucking it away into his wallet, he hears yelling from the parking lot that pulls his attention. He sees a small crowd of people lingering and his curiosity gets the better of him. As he walks closer, it becomes apparent that he hears your voice- and you sound petrified. 

He drops the tin somewhere mid stride and doesn’t even care as he pushes his way across the parking lot, running in between moving cars, shoving his way through cliques of students- it didn’t matter. All he could think about was getting to you. His eyes completely zero in on Billy’s white knuckled grip around your arm that he doesn’t even think. He’d more than passed his breaking point when it came to Billy. 

It doesn’t even register to him that he swung until the crack when his fist came in contact with Billy’s face. His eyes widen in surprise as he watches Billy fall, and thankfully he doesn’t take you down with him. You watch in shock at the scene that folds out, tentatively taking a few steps back so you’re away from Billy. 

Billy thinks his nose is broken and he can feel the blood dripping down his face. He laughs hysterically at the metallic taste of his own blood. He can’t believe he’s ended up here. You want nothing to do with him, the only person he’s maybe cared about is just gone- he can’t help but laugh at himself, but it makes him sound so sinister. Picking himself off, he ignores the way his skin burns from the contact it made with the pavement. He’d wanted an excuse to fight Eddie for a long time now, and he’s not passing up the chance now. 

“You don’t want to fight me, freak,” Billy spits, wiping his face with his hand. Despite taking a hard punch, he’s still worked up and thinks he can take Eddie. He’s hungry for it. He doesn’t miss how you step behind Eddie for him to protect you, and it makes him absolutely livid. 

He manages to take a few swings, and Eddie takes a punch to the gut that makes him take a few steps back. Billy manages to make a swift hit right to Eddie’s jaw, sending him practically spinning to the ground but Eddie’s able to catch himself in his fall, and recovers quickly. 

An even larger crowd has begun to gather, a mix of people cheering for either boy. Some people cheer for Billy, egging him on and encouraging him for finally dealing with the Town Freak. Others applaud Eddie, ecstatic to see someone finally putting Billy in his place after his reign of terror. You’re frozen, shocked to see Eddie swoop in and defend you like he did. He didn’t hate you.

Eddie manages one more hit and it makes Billy collapse. He can’t get up right away and it’s like he’s lost all pride. Suddenly, he looks so small and for a brief moment Eddie almost pities him. He wipes the blood from his cut lip and just leaves Billy there, walking away- guiding you away from the scene. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, out of breath. He’s so preoccupied with making sure you’re safe that he didn’t even seem to care about himself at that moment. He brings his hands up to cup your cheeks, his eyes scanning your face to make sure you looked okay. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you insist- and you were. Shaken up, of course- but you weren’t hurt. “But, Eddie you…”

“Don’t worry about me,” he chuckles. He leans down to whisper to you, “You should see the other guy.” 

Your little giggle was enough to make Eddie’s heart swell and constrain against his chest. He couldn’t ever express to you how much he missed that sound, being the one to make you laugh. “I don’t want to see him anymore,” you admit softly, gazing up at Eddie. Your eyes trail over every part of his face, recommitting it all to memory. 

Eddie glances over to where he left Billy, and he sees Tommy and Jason helping him up from the ground. They make eye contact briefly and he swears it almost looks like Billy could be- blinking back tears as he looks at you and the way you're looking at Eddie. He watches as Billy shakes his head and avoids your direction as he walks away from the scene. 

Eddie smiles, looking back at you. Eddie was never the one to be the hero, but now? He feels like he can do anything. You smile, trying to read his expression. “Does this mean I can come back to Hellfire?” You ask, hopeful- biting your lip to hold back your smile. You can’t help but rock back and forth on your heels.

“Oh my god, yes,” he sighs, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “I’m not even kidding, the campaign is in absolute shambles. We need you back to whip them into shape- it’s been absolutely pathetic.” 

Eddie’s arm around you makes goosebumps rise on your skin. It’s like the reality of your situation has just come down on you all at once. Billy was gone, and you felt like you could finally breathe. And Eddie… your beautiful, sweet, wonderful Eddie is back next to you and its like everything makes sense again. It feels like you might be able to just pick up right where you left off- but neither one of you wants to go back to being just friends. Both of you secretly hope the other feels the same.  

You bring your hands up to cup his face, and you look at where he’s hurt. A small cut on his eyebrow and his lip, and you’re sure he’s going to develop a black eye. God, was he always this pretty? The way his brown eyes look back at you with such a soft gaze makes you wonder how you could’ve ever looked anywhere else. Your thumb gently grazes his bottom lip, careful not to disturb the cut. 

“Eddie, I’m so sorry,” you say, tears welling in your eyes. “Just for everything- for ditching you all, for blowing off plans. I threw everything away for some guy who I don’t even think really liked me. God, I’m so stupid. I can’t believe I really thought any of it was a good idea. Then you, because you’re just so wonderful- stick your neck out for me and save me after I’ve treated you like shit- Fuck, Eds. I ruined absolutely everything… including this moment, because I should just shut up and kiss you.” 

“Please,” he says with a soft smile, his voice hardly a whisper, and he rests his forehead against yours. 

He meets you halfway, and you press your lips to his in a gentle kiss. 

This. This was the moment you had been waiting for. It’s the all encompassing, sweeps you off your feet first kind of kiss that makes you feel like your body is just melting into him. It’s butterflies, fireworks, electricity… everything you’d convinced yourself wasn’t real. All of it was just fantasy. But it’s not- it’s everything. It’s so undeniably Eddie. 

Your lips find a rhythm with his so easily, and you feel warmth through your whole body when you feel his arms wrap around you. His large hands on your back, gently pulling you in flush to him. Your arms wrap around his neck as the kiss deepens. You think you could stay here, tangled up with him like this forever if you could. 

“I love you so much,” he says, rushed between fevered kisses. “I always have, sweetheart.” He caresses your cheek as he pulls away from the kiss- he needs to look at you. “I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you,” he sighs, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

He genuinely means it. He can remember it so distinctly. It’s one of those memories that just never seems to fade no matter how much time has passed. 

First day of his sophomore year, he’d put up flyers for Hellfire Club on the bulletin boards in the freshman hallways. Some of them had been torn down or defaced by whoever- maybe guys on the basketball team. He’d come back, putting up more- replacing the ones that had been messed up. 

He saw you on the opposite end of the hallway, reading one of his flyers intently despite the moustache and monocle drawn on his logo. You were (and still are) the prettiest girl he’d ever seen- and it was enough to make him blush that you’d given your attention to something of his. He observed as your brow furrowed in concentration, and the way your nose scrunched as you squinted to read his messy handwriting. He assumed the worst- you thought it was weird, or maybe you were scared. He watched from a safe distance as you carefully peeled back the tape to pull it off the board, and you folded it to put in the front of your binder. When you and Gareth showed up to the next meeting, he was already completely smitten. 

“I love you too,” you smile and reconnect your lips with his. Eddie’s back rests against the tree behind him and he pulls your flush against this body as he deepens the kiss. Now that you’ve kissed Eddie, you think it’s ruined you- kissing anyone else won’t ever feel as good as this. You’re so wrapped up in him it’s like everything else just fades away. The kiss escalates and you feel desperate to be even closer. 

“Where’s your van?” You murmur, gently tugging on his hair, making him groan. His lips trail across the skin just under your ear, and you can hear his keys jangle in his hands. It makes you chuckle, and you can feel his smile against your skin. He interlocks his hand with yours, his keys in the other, and he leads you over to  the van where it’s parked across the lot- most other cars already cleared out after the fight had ended. 

“Ladies first,” he says dramatically as he opens the door to the back. You scoff playfully, rolling your eyes at his dramatics. Your heart tugs cause it was the part of Eddie you secretly missed the most. You duck your head as you crawl into the back, and he’s quick behind you. 

He wraps you up in his arms and reconnects his lips to yours, and he gently lays you down on the floor of the van. Your hands cradle his face, pulling his body down to yours. You couldn’t get enough of him. You wanted to be surrounded, completely encased in him. You’d missed so much of him- you needed to be as close to him as possible. 

Eddie can’t even believe that you’re here. He’s imagined this moment so much he’s convinced he might’ve just slipped further into his fantasy that he can’t distinguish it from reality. But you’re real, and you’re here- with him. After months of complete and utter torture, it all feels like nothing when you’re kissing him like this. He’d been hoping to get you back, but he couldn’t have imagined you’d have ended up like this. It’s so much better than he’d ever dreamed. 

“Eds..,” you sigh, as he kisses your neck. “Please…”

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he promises, his hands finding the hem of your shirt and yours push his jacket off his shoulders. He’s quick to shrug his jacket off, and you get distracted by the tattoos you can see peeking out from under his dark t-shirt. It totally inflates his ego, blush rising on his neck. Your head tilts, noticing one you don’t recognize picking out from the collar of his shirt. 

“What’s that one?” You ask, tugging his shirt collar. “You got a new one?” You pout, looking back to him with wide eyes. “I wanna see…” 

Eddie’s shirt is off his back in seconds. 

There’s a new spider tattoo next to his zombie head. You bite your lip, your fingertips outlining it delicately. The feeling gives Eddie goosebumps. You’d seen Eddie shirtless before- countless times when the group would go swimming at the lake, or that one summer Grant’s family had the above ground pool, but it was never like this. Suddenly, your awkward best friend was gorgeous and he’s looking at you like he wants to eat you alive. 

His hands slide under the material of your shirt, lifting up slowly. You lift your arms for him. He moans, a pathetic whimper just at the mere sight of you. He dips down, kissing all of the exposed skin- starting with your navel all the way up your chest to your shoulder where he delicately pushes your bra strap down. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he marvels, toying with the strap as he kisses down the outline of your cups. 

You’re feeling so desperate for him, and you push off your jeans so now you’re just in your bra and panties. You momentarily regret for the briefest of moments that they don’t match, but he’s looking at you so intensely that you don’t think he even cares as his eyes rake over your body. Your skin feels like it's on fire under his heavy gaze, and you feel so needy that you’re involuntarily bucking your hips up into him, grinding against the bulge in his jeans. He kisses you again feverishly, his hand holding the back of your neck and the coldness of his rings sooth the hotness of your skin. 

“Eds,” you whine, not even fully sure what you're asking for as you gently tug his hair again- just to hear the noises that rumble deep from the back of his throat. It’s addicting. 

“Sweetheart, please..,” Eddie pulls away to kiss all over your body again, all the way down to the waistband of your panties. He kisses and licks along the waistband, “Can I?” Fuck yes. 

“Fuck, Eds- god yes,” you nod. 

You’re surprised when he hones in on the little wet spot, pressing a kiss right there over the fabric. He smirks when it makes you shiver, he’s been fantasizing for so long to be just where he is right now. He’s planning to spend so much time worshipping you, showing you just how fucking much he loves you- making up for all the time wasted by not telling you how he felt sooner. 

He slides the panties down your legs, kissing down your thighs, your calves, your ankle before resting your legs over his shoulders. He peppers kisses to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You don’t miss that your panties were discreetly slid into the back pocket of his jeans. You’ll tease him later, when you’re less distracted by the way his hair tickles your skin. Right now, you’re so overwhelmed by how good he feels that you’re already panting. 

Eddie doesn’t really have any experience- that’s to say, he has none. But, he’s imagined all the ways he wants to make you feel good for so long and he’s so eager to please. He licks at your folds, kissing your wetness- his nose pushing into your clit at just the perfect angle that it makes you grip at his hair for some sense of stability. You throw your head back in pleasure and his grip on your thighs tighten to keep you in place for him. He’s eating you like a man starved and your moans are as equally depraved. 

He doesn’t stop, even when you warn him that you're close- he just keeps at the same pace, working you through your first orgasm. He looks up grinning, your slick completely coating his mouth and chin. It’s quite a sight. You’re shaking, coming down from your high- Eddie kissing your thighs and hips, praising you and whispering sweet nothings. You can see his obvious tent at the front of his jeans which somehow look tighter than when he started. He climbs back on top of you to reconnect your lips in a searing kiss, and your hands make quick work of palming him through his jeans. He whimpers against your lips, bucking into your hand desperately seeking more friction. 

“Why don’t you take these-”

Eddie’s kicking off his jeans before you even manage to finish your sentence, and it makes you giggle at how eager he is. It’s endearing, and it makes you feel so wanted- so desirable. It’s dizzying. His boxers remain as he surges forward to kiss you again, your arms wrapping around his neck as he fumbles with your bra. It takes him a few tries, embarrassed by his clumsiness, he buries his face in your neck as he struggles with the small clasps. 

“Fucking hell,” he mutters, before finally managing to manage the hooks open. “Thank fuck,” he sighs, kissing your shoulder. “That would’ve been embarrassing,” he jokes, making you smile. You let the straps fall down your shoulders and Eddie pulls it off- tossing it somewhere. Who cares where. His eyes nearly bug out of his head. Your face feels warm, and you move to hide your face in your hands. Eddie is practically drooling. You’re perfect- just like he always fucking knew you would be. 

You smile up at him, and he swears he feels his heart might beat out of his chest. So many nights he imagined you here, under him, looking at him just like how you’re looking at him now. God, he thinks he’s still dreaming. Your hands tug gently at the waistband of his boxers and he winks at you. He pulls them down, kicking them off his legs and your eyes widen. 

“Fuck, Eddie,” you gasp, staring hungrily at his cock. 

“Bigger than Billy?” he teases you and you swat his arm. “I’m sorry,” he laughs, pushing your hair out of your face, “I’m only kidding.” He leans down and kisses your lips softly. “You’re gonna forget all about him by the time I’m done with you, sweetheart.” 

“Eddie- I never slept with Billy,” you admit softly, cradling his face in the palm of your hand. “I mean- we did stuff,” you wince for a second at your own awkwardness, “But- yeah, we never did this… I want you to be my first, Eds.”

Eddie melts at your words. He feels like his entire body is flushed. Fuck, okay. He is going to be your first. You want to lose your virginity to him right now in his van- with him. You, his best friend- the star of all his dirty fantasies and the love of his life- you are picking him too. He is trying so hard to think about literally anything else except this to keep from finishing the second he pushes his cock into you. 

“I love you so much,” he whispers, kissing you gently. You kiss him back, matching his pace- letting him take the lead. “Um,” he pulls away reluctantly, “One sec-” 

You sit up on your elbows and watch as he riffles through his pants to find his wallet- and he just can’t believe he’s finally using the condom he’s been carrying around. You bite your lip, holding back a smile. He slides it on, and leans forward- kissing you again, and it’s slow and romantic and it makes your brain cloudy with how good it feels. 

You feel so full when he pushes into you, and you gasp as the sensation. God, he felt so amazing as he stretched you out with his cock. You both take a second, needing to adjust to the feeling. He begins to move his hips when you let him know you're ready, finding a rhythm that works for the two of you. 

It’s romantic and a little clumsy- but you wouldn’t want it any other way. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in close to you and your hands hold onto his shoulders. Your face twists in pleasure when he finds the perfect pace, hitting your g spot perfectly. He’s whispering sweet nothings, praising you for how well you’re doing, for how good you feel- completely and utterly obsessed with how you’re taking his cock. 

“So pretty,” he praises, his fingertips grazing your nipples- squeezing gently, teasing you as he fucks into you. “You’re so fucking perfect, sweetheart- fuck.”

“Eddie, baby- I’m so close,” you whine, overly sensitive from your first orgasm. He keeps his pace, his thumb rubbing your clit, coaxing your orgasm from you nice and gentle. He’s doing his best to keep himself from finishing- he needs you to cum again for him first. 

When you squeeze his cock, and your orgasm pulses through your whole body, Eddie can’t hold off another second. With his final thrusts, he’s finishing into the condom- riding out his high. He never imagined it would ever feel that good. Fuck, he loved you so much. 

He ties off the condom and tosses it in the trash bag. He collapses next to you, kissing you gently- pulling you in close to his chest. “I love you,” he mumbles into your hair, kissing the top of your head. 

“I love you too,” you sigh, contently, resting your head into the crook of his shoulder. 

“Do you even know how long I’ve wanted that- how long I’ve been in love with you?” Eddie asks, tracing shapes on your bare skin absentmindedly. “Sweetheart you have no idea how many fantasies of mine we just played out,” he chuckles, reaching for his cigarettes from his jacket pocket. 

“We’ll have to play out some more later,” you tease, kissing his cheek as he lights up. He groans, holding the cigarette away from you so he can kiss you again.

PART FOUR

TAGLIST: @fandom-princess-forevermore @sunshinepeachx @downbear @fanlifeaamt @exploding-bonbon @losingmygrasponreality @skiddypiddy @andvys @djodirt @moonlightsolo @kyga01 @sheisjoeschateau @melaninjhs @v3lv3tf0x @purpleeyeswithgoldensparkles @sunshine-mrk @danymunsonharrington @mrsjellymunson @fanficfantik @the-unforgivenn @punkrockmlchael @spookysace24 @crispystarfishhottub @4billy @let-love-bleeds-red@supersecretsamm @e-c-a-r-l-a-t-e @melvin333 @mmmunson @daryldixonswifesworld

[sp0o0kylights]

Someone on Twitter proposed Steve and Gareth as cousins whose family had a major falling out, and then someone else brought it up recently and long story short no idea who to credit the idea too bc you can’t search for SHIT on Twitter but it's theirs not mine. 

Anyway I wrote a lil thing as a warmup 

PART TWO

"Why don't you come sit with Hellfire?" Gareth asked, angrily leaned against the bathroom wall while Steve fixed his hair.

He'd tried not to cling since he entered high school. Tried to keep things on the downlow, least any gossipy mouths started running. 

It was so stupidly, needlessly, hard. 

 His cousin was only two years ahead of him but they'd spent the last year in different schools because of it. 

 That year, and the lack of Steve's presence in it, had grated. Now that he finally had Steve back, Gareth was loathe to play by the rules. 

"Sit with you and Eddie, "the freak" Munson? I'll pass." Steve said, but there was no bite in it. 

That, Gareth knew, was because Steve was  using Eddie as an excuse. 

"You'd like Eddie if you spent five minutes with him, King Steve." Gareth fired back on automatic. His fingers dug into his arms, as he resisted the urge to pace around the bathroom floor. 

Unspoken was all the shit that had taken place.

Steve and Nancy's breakup. The rumor mill in overdrive, first about how Jonathan Byers had taken creep shot photos of them, then about how he'd taken his shot with Nancy herself. 

The supposed cheating, the public fights, the crazy background of Jonathan's little brother being missing. 

Billy Hargrove beating Steve to a pulp. 

Now friendless, Steve had thoroughly fallen from his place at the tippy top of the social hierarchy and between his utter lack of friends and his shit tier parents, Gareth was concerned. 

"You do not want me to sit with you, Gary. I'd tell all your little friends that you're apart of the royal family." Steve turned, making an exaggerated face. "How's Munson feel about cozying up to a Prince?" 

"I'd technically be an Earl, Steve, not a prince." Gareth grumbled. 

He got an eye roll in response. "Somehow I don't think he'll care." 

"I do though." Gareth blurted out, absolutely thoughtless. 

Steve blinked at him. 

"What?" He said. 

In for a penny right?

 "I care." Gareth said, looking down and scuffing a shoe, making it squeak against the grimy tiles. "About you. You dick." 

"Wow Gary you almost sounded loving there."

For once, he ignored the jab. "I'm worried about you, man." He said it quietly, the painful truth pulled out of him almost by force. 

He knew better than anyone how few people Steve had. Knew how his dad was likely taking all the crap Steve had been involved in lately. 

Richard Harrington hadn't been the wedge that had separated his and Steve's mother, but the man hadn't done them any favors, either. 

His intolerance towards the working and lower classes, his demand for perfection, the way he looked down his nose not just on Gareth's parents but on his own wife and son…

Gareth's mom didn't tolerate it. 

Likewise, Stella Harrington didn't tolerate her sister ruining her shot at being a rich trophy wife. 

Both their sets of parents were dramatic and neither of them weren't anywhere near the concept of "good" but at least Gareth's weren't neglectful and abusive. 

Shitty absolutely, but he never worried about getting thrown out, or that his mom wouldn't acknowledge his birthday because he'd "complimented her outfit the wrong way." 

(”It's fine dude she just thought I called her ugly. It was a miscommunication. Dad said it's a good lesson about how women work."

"Casual reminder that your dad's an asshole and also how is telling your mom that she looked lovely in the sunlight telling her she's ugly?”

“It implied she wasn't lovely the rest of the time or some shit, I dunno man.”) 

The BMW was a shitty prize when compared what Steve had dealt with to receive it. 

"I'm okay." Steve said seriously. "It's almost the end of the year anyways. I can tough out having some extra alone time." 

"If you're sure…"

"Yeah man, I'm sure. Thanks though."

Then Steve pulled him into a hug and fuck their parents, who demanded they continued some stupid grudge. Gareth clung to him just as hard as he had at ten. Unsure if he'd ever be allowed to see Steve again.

[queenie-ofthe-void]

The Babysitter Chronicles - Henderson

Steve POV 5+1 (immediately follows s2) || wc: 1.8k || full fic ao3

Henderson || Mayfield pt 1 / Mayfield pt 2 || Sinclair || Wheeler || Byers || +1 Hopper

~~~

This has been the worst week of Steve’s life.

Not only does Nancy think he’s bullshit, he found out she never actually loved him, she cheated on him, and she partially blames him for Barb’s death.

He was almost eaten alive by alternate dimension monster demodogs, almost died at the hands of Billy fucking Hargrove, almost died in the backseat of Billy’s car, and then almost died again in the tunnels. 

He’s pretty sure he has a serious concussion and a broken nose. The stitches on his forehead are starting to itch. He’s had a migraine every day since, and there’s ringing in his ears.

Steve honestly thought he could put all of this Upside-Down shit behind him. Pack it away in a tiny box and move on. Yet he was dragged into it once again, forced to protect kids he barely knows from both monsters and humans. 

He deserves to get paid for this shit, to be honest. 

He’s got no friends to sit with at lunch, no girlfriend to love him, and no parents at home to take care of him.

After spending the week at home alone, wallowing and recovering, he found himself thinking of the kids. It was the first time he felt anything other than misery and physical pain. But they were big, complicated emotions that he’s still untangling. He’s been able to pick out fear and anxiety, annoyance, exasperation, and– surprisingly– fondness. When he thinks of the kids, he’s hit with a surge of fierce protectiveness and devotion.

He’s got nothing to show for his life and no one to spend it with. Those kids, though, needed him in a way he’s never felt before. It was life or death, and they trusted him to keep them safe. Now that it’s over, even If he isn’t necessarily wanted, maybe he could at least continue being useful.

Which is how he finds himself pulling up to the same curb as he did a week ago. At least this time he’s not here about the Upside-Down; although, knowing Dustin, he wouldn’t be surprised.

“Steve!” Dustin’s running out the front door and down the driveway in just a t-shirt and sweatpants despite the chilly November morning. He plows into his chest at full speed and almost sends them both toppling over. “Steve, holy shit you’re here! Oh shit your face.”

“Hey man, language ok?” Jesus, the mouth on this kid. “Relax twerp, ease up on the hug, you're killing my ribs.”

Dustin immediately drops his arms and backs away, looking cowed. Steve’s going to have to work on his approach, apparently the kid’s sensitive. Or maybe Steve’s still a bit of a bully, another part of himself that needs to be fixed.

“It’s ok, Dustin, don’t worry about it. Just a little sore still.”

He perks back up again, bouncing up and down on his heels. The little gremlin’s toothless smile is so damn cute Steve wants to give him a noogie. 

“Ok then,” Dustin replies, “so why are you here?”

“Uhhh, actually I’m here to talk to your mom.” Feeling suddenly awkward, Steve runs a nervous hand through his hair. He hisses as it pulls on his stitches.

“My mom?” he asks, incredulously. “Why? What’s going on?”

Steve supposes he should’ve thought of this. It makes more sense to talk with Dustin before actually asking his mom for permission, but he hadn’t practiced this part. Now here he is, facing down an over-dramatic middle schooler and he’s actually nervous about it.

“Yeah, I kind of noticed you’re an only child, and you don’t really have a dad around.”

Dustin’s face falls, morphing into a scowl. Shit, Steve’s barely said one word and he’s already messing this up.

“Not all of us have rich parents who buy us whatever they want,” the kid huffs, crossing his arms and kicking non-existent rocks.

“No wait, ok look I’m sorry Dustin, that’s not what I meant. I’m not really great at talking about stuff like this. The important stuff anyways. Let me try again. Please?”

The kid’s still scowling, but his body relaxes a bit and he nods.

“Ok I’ll start over,” Steve continues. “Even though we were dealing with all of the Upside-Down shit and it was literally the worst week of my entire life, I enjoyed having you around. I’d sleep better at night if I knew you twerps are safe and I know you don’t really have anyone around other than your mom and the other gremlins–”

“The Party.”

Steve stares at him, mouth hanging open as he’s cut off mid-sentence. He’s in the middle of pouring his heart out to this mouthy ten year old and he’s got the audacity to interrupt him.

“The what now?”

“The Party, Steve.” The little shit’s tone is overflowing with condescension. “The group. We’re called the Party. You know, like in DnD?”

“What the hell is a dandy?”

“You, kind of,” Dustin mutters under his breath. Steve doesn’t really know what that means and coming from this kid he probably doesn’t want to. “D and D stands for Dungeons and Dragons, Steve. It’s a role playing game.”

“Whoa, alright I think you’re a little too young to be playing role playing games.”

“I’ve literally been playing for three years.”

“You’ve been roleplaying since you were seven?”

“I’m thirteen Steve!” He’s pretty sure Dustin’s screeching can be heard from the other side of town. “What are we even talking about right now? Why are you here, at my home, looking for my mom?”

“I want to be your goddamned babysitter!” Steve screams back. He takes a deep breath– in and out. This kid’s going to be the death of him, he just knows it.

He looks down to find Dustin’s eyes wide and mouth formed in a perfect oval. The kid’s shocked, either from what Steve said or that he literally shouted it in his face. Now it’s Steve’s turn to kick rocks. He shuffles back and forth, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep them from tugging his hair again.

“You guys almost died, man,” Steve says softly, avoiding eye contact. It makes this part easier. “You almost died, and if I hadn’t been there, I have no idea what would’ve happened. Maybe you all would’ve been fine, I don’t know. But it was my job to keep you safe, and you don’t have anyone else around except your mom and the grem– I mean the Party– to look out for you. I had to quit basketball thanks to Billy, and Nancy broke up with me. My parents are literally never home, so I’ve got a lot of free time on my hands. Figure I could use some of that time keeping you out of trouble.”

Dustin’s face hasn’t changed, still devoid of any emotion other than shock. God damnit, Steve really messed this up. He looks around and rubs the back of his neck. His skin’s prickling with nerves as he starts to sweat and he takes a step backwards towards the safety of his car. 

This was a stupid idea. Why would any of these kids want anything to do with him? He’s nothing like them: smart, nerdy, can save the world without taking a beating. Steve thought he could be useful, worthwhile to someone– to Dustin. He should know better by now.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’m just going to go,” Steve says. But as he turns to leave, Dustin slams into him once more. Steve’s breath whooshes from his lungs and a lightning strike of pain travels up his back. He thinks he’s shaking from the pain, except his crewneck is starting to feel damp against the kid’s face and he can see Dustin’s shoulders practically vibrating. “Hey, Dustin. Hey it’s ok, are you alright? What’s wrong man, talk to me.”

Dustin doesn’t look up, just keeps his face buried in Steve’s sweatshirt and grips him tighter. It hurts and it aches and it pulls at all of his injuries. He still lets Dustin hold on for as long as he needs to. 

There’s a slight movement out of the corner of his good eye, and he glances up towards the house to see a small, curvy woman smiling at them through the window. Not wanting to dislodge Dustin, he slightly lifts his hand to wave. He’s surprised when she honest to God clutches her heart and wipes what he assumes is a tear from her eye.

Steve’s already worried he screwed this whole thing up. He definitely didn’t think it would happen in front of a goddamned audience. 

The kid’s still holding on, but the shaking has subsided and he’s breathing easier. Steve smashes his hat to ruffle his hair, and Dustin backs off with a shriek. His face is covered in red blotches matching his bloodshot eyes. Steve looks down at his sweatshirt to find a tears-snot-spit wet patch stained into his chest.

“Dude, gross,” Steve huffs. At least he’s wearing an undershirt. Dustin just chuckles. 

“Like friends?” Dustin asks, still wiping at his face. “I wouldn’t mind, you know, hanging out. Whenever you’re not busy, I mean.”

It’s Steve’s turn to feel a burn behind his eyes. Relief fills him with warmth as his growing anxiety is washed away. Dustin wants him around. He wants to spend time with him and Steve never really thought he’d get this far. All he had was a half-baked idea to serve himself up for the one thing he knows he’s good for. And he was wanted.

He reaches out and pulls the kid back in for a hug, holding him tight despite the pain. Dustin starts trying to push off, so Steve flips him around under his armpit in a headlock, rubbing his knuckles roughly into the top of Dustin’s hat as he starts to screech again. He huffs, straightening out his hat, still sporting that iconic toothless smile. 

“Now,” Steve says, “all I have to do is ask your mom.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Dustin replies, turning around to lead Steve towards the house. He sees the curtains pulled roughly shut and the silhouette of the woman heading toward the front door. “She already knows all about you. I told her what happened. Well, the government version.”

“You told your mom about me?” Steve asks in awe.

“Duh, why wouldn’t I? Sure, you got your ass handed to you, but it was totally awesome!”

“Right,” Steve scoffs. He’ll let that one slide for now. “You’re sure she won’t mind?”

“Mom’s going to love you. She’s been asking about you all week.”

If she’s anything like her son, then hopefully Steve’s got nothing to worry about. And maybe if he can watch one kid, he can talk to the rest of their parents– look after the whole Party of gremlins. He can host after school hangouts and movie nights, sleepovers in the living room and pool parties in the summer. There’s the beginnings a plan forming in his head, which parents and kids he needs to talk to next. 

When he’s met with Mrs. Henderson’s warm smile, he thinks maybe the rest of this year will be alright.

[maybetorbie]

and if I have to crawl upon the floor, come crashing through your door

1.1k words | summary: Billy loses his shit and gets into a tussle with Steve, thinking that Steve is cheating on him. But Steve isn't too smart to cheat without Billy knowing, so there's gotta be something else, right?

This is another one of those... "oh boy. You're doing two events in one again?" So yeah. This is for @harringrovemicroficandart 's prompt "valentine, and for @harringrovewinterbingo prompt "lies", figured the art and fic combo could serve as one 👉👈 i wanna do both events! (P.s. i was also inspired to do this after a talk with @tendafoot about plates being thrown!)

Are those flying saucers?

Well, close.

It's actually dinner plates, thrown across the room, by none other than Billy Hargrove, (barely) reformed town asshole. It would be fine if those dinner plates were thrown because they're old, but they're thrown solely for recreational purposes. Hard. The direction they're headed?

Steve Harrington's head.

Good thing Steve learned how to play dodgeball, only this was on god level difficulty.

"Asshole!" Billy cries out, his face a flushed mess, his eyes bloodshot... and, well, his curls? frizzy and flat.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Steve dodges another one thrown at his head, narrowly missing him by a milimeter. "Stop throwing plates at me!"

"You fucking lied to me!" Billy hysterically exclaims, picking up another one from the China cabinet, winding his arm back for another throw.

"About what!?" Steve yells back, his arms defensively rising up.

"You..." Billy momentarily lowers the plate on his hand, taking a puff of his cigarette to collect his breathing. "You really think you can fuck me over, Harrington?"

Steve looks at him with all the confusion his face can muster. "I don't get what you're trying to say! What did I do?" Steve takes the momentary respite from Billy's attacks as an opportunity to slowly advance, in an effort to disarm the blond.

Billy is too observant for that. He raises the plate back up in the air. "Don't come any closer!"

"Billy, talk to me!" Steve asks, still on the defensive, though he's slightly backing away, creating friction on their carpeted floor of their shared, shitty, moldy apartment unit they've been living together in for almost 2 years. "And less—"

another one thrown, missing him by a lot. It wasn't really meant for him. That one was just warmup.

"—less throwing plates!"

Billy shakes his head, face still flushed red, like somebody just knocked the wind out of him. "No, asshole... you... you fucking lied to me,"

"About!?"

"What the fuck were you doing out there today, huh?" Billy gestures at the window of their apartment, as if 'out there' simply means the view outside the window, and not much else. "Think I wouldn't know, you... got some chick on your arm you're gettin' real friendly with, huh?"

"Chick—what chick!?" Steve feels this has gone on long enough. "Billy, enough—you're not making any sense!" Throwing all caution to the wind, Steve lunges at Billy, hurling the both of them down onto the bean bag chair, pinning Billy underneath him.

"Get off me!" Billy tries to shove the brunette away, but his frustration overcomes his rage, all that's left being angry tears rolling down his face.

Steve pauses at the scene unfolding. He remains on top of Billy to secure him, trying to rack his brain for whatever the fuck has gotten Billy so upset. Then it clicks.

"Billy... that chick wasn't like... my girlfriend or something..." Steve softly mutters, his one hand apprehensively trying to cup Billy's cheek, to which the blond tries—and fails—to brush off. "She's Kayla,"

"Fuck Kayla then! What the fuck, you think you can just waltz around this shithole with any girl you want, when I'm working down at the junkyard fixing shit!?"

"Billy..." Steve maintains the softness of his voice, his grip on Billy still firm. "Kayla works at Tiffany's,"

"And!?" Billy gets angrier, akin to a feral cat trying to break out of the carrier at the vet's table, uselessly clawing at the walls of the carrier while throatily growling to no end.

"I was buying something..." Steve is trying to put down something he hopes Billy will pick up.

Billy doesn't pick up shit. "Spit it out and get off me, so I can fucking choke you! Do you know what day today is!?"

Of course Steve knows what the day is. It's the five-year anniversary of their relationship...

And it's also valentine's day.

Yeah, it's that cheesy.

"Of course I know, Billy, that's why—"

"That's why I'm going to fucking kill you!" Billy manages to push Steve off him, jumping off the ground, immediately ransacking the cabinet for anything he can hurl and shatter.

"What, you think I'm fucking cheating on you!?" Steve stands up as his temper equally rises.

"Yeah? Why else would you be acting fucking secretive the past week, always making excuses not to hang out with me!? I'm the best fucking thing that's ever happened to you!"

Steve doesn't really agree with the latter part... but he knows better than to say whatever witty retort he's got brewing up in his mind out loud.

Steve realizes why Billy's upset. Billy's a predictable guy, as it turns out. And the key to figuring out his blond boyfriend's antic is the following; if Billy acts one way, he usually means the exact opposite.

So if Billy's angry like the world's about to give him the world's soggiest cigarette right now... it could only mean that he's very hurt. Betrayed, even.

"Billy... I would never cheat on you,"

"Then why the fuck have you been sneaking around?!" Billy winds an arm back with an especially heavy-looking plate (ceramic!)...

"Because I was trying to get you this," Steve whips it out.

His piece de resistance.

It's a ring. A simple, brushed out golden band.

Billy blinks. His momentum's gone.

Steve approaches him slowly, using the ring as a flare in the dark sea, keeping Billy's attention fixated on it as he gets closer.

Now that they're chest to chest, Steve pulls the ring inbetween them. "Will you fucking listen to me now? Jesus. I bought this for you,"

"What... what is that for," Billy asks, his voice dying on his throat.

"Well," Steve murmurs, "Look, we've been together for a while. I love you, I know you love me, and... look, we can't call it what it is out there, but in here? Can't I propose? Can't I just call you my husband, Billy? My dramatic, disgusting, awful yet lovable husband?"

Billy looks at him, his lips parted in a daze. His eyes still glassy from unshed tears, he swallows the hitch in his throat before speaking, "...You wanted to propose?"

"Yeah. You know I'm really not the smartest guy out there. So maybe it looked like I was sneaking off with someone. It was just Robin, helping me pick out a ring. You share a size with her, did you know that, asshole?"

Billy blinks. It all comes to him. "...I do know that."

Steve sighs. Seems the storm has passed. "Now will you let me put this ring on you, baby?"

Billy wordlessly does as told, putting his left hand up for Steve to do the job.

It shines like a dream.

"It suits you," Steve bashfully grins, despite everything.

"Hm." Billy purses his lips, feeling the ring, rotating it around with his thumb. He sucks in his cheek with what Steve figured out a long while ago to be embarrassment, fixing Steve a look. "I guess I did throw plates at you."

"Now we can cross 'first fight as a married couple' off the list, then," Steve offers the sentiment, asking for Billy's hand to guide him to the couch, which somehow didn't have any plate shards on.

They sit together, overlooking the mess Billy made.

"Husband." Steve said softly, turning to Billy.

"Husband." Billy returns the sentiment, the afterglow of their fight giving Billy an unreal healthy flush on the cheeks.

"We need to clean this shit up before dinner." Steve gestures at the mess, but he knew better than to directly ask Billy for remorse.

"That shit can wait. Don't we have 'wedding night' on the list, too?"

Suddenly, the idea of cleaning isn't really Steve's number one priority anymore.

[roseareeh]

Teenage Dirtbag Part 2| Steve Harrington x Teen Mom! Reader (xBilly Hargrove)

Notes: I was incredibly hungover while writing this, please forgive any grammatical errors. You can find part 1 here

Words: 3k

Warnings: Teenage Pregnancy, big hint at a sex scene

"I handed in our assignment, so now you have no need to talk to me anymore.", you told Steve once you walked into history class. Since you stayed home yesterday, you had enough time while Prissy was napping and when she went to bed. "Please don't be like this.", Steve replied in a desperate tone. You looked him deep in his eyes, which showed true desperation and hurt. It didn't matter, though. "You first.", you replied before getting to your seat.

After this, he left you alone for a few days. Billy, however, didn't. In fact, he approached you again just a week after the party. "Hey princess.", he said with a smirk as he leaned against the locker next to yours. "Hey.", you said with a small smile as you put your books in your locker. Billy looked at the pictures on the inside of your locker, which were three pictures of you and your daughter. "That's your kid?", he asked and nodded towards the polaroids. "Yeah, that's Prissy.", you replied with a small smile. "Listen, so, I can tell you're pretty pissed at Harrington." A scoff left your mouth at that statement. "Pissed is an understatement." He smirked at those words. That was exactly what he wanted to hear. "You wanna piss him off?" Finally, you turned your head fully to face him. It was an intriguing question. "You got a plan?"

"Well, he doesn't like me. Wouldn't it be fun if he thought we'd be dating?" It was such a cliché, to fake date someone to get back at the person who played you. But it was a good one. "How'd you wanna pull that off?", you asked. "Dating with a toddler is hard enough for me, fake dating will he even harder." Billy smirked at your words. "We'll only have to pretend at school. And as I've heard, there's enough girls here with no morals, so we can both piss him off and I can still get bitches." You laughed a bit at his words, partially because you couldn't believe what he was saying. And also, this wasn't what you usually do. Your strategy was to just ignore him until these feelings would go away, but wouldn't getting back at him be much more fun? "And if you want, we can have fun sometimes too." He ran his fingers through your hair and tucked a strand of it behind your ear. "Alright, Billy, you convince me.", you said with a sly smirk. "Come on then, gym class is in a bit." He closed your locker for you, put his arm around your shoulders like he did on Halloween and walked to gym class with you. Just like he planned, you two walked by Steve as he brought you to the girls locker room. And to put a cherry on top, he kissed you on the lips as a goodbye. Steve saw it all, and watched as he felt his heart breaking like yours did at the party. Regardless, he left you alone for a few more weeks.

That was until he stood on your doorstep again. "Jesus, Steve, I told you to leave me alone." Luckily, your dad went to the grocery store with your daughter. "(Y/N), please let me talk to you." Without asking, he stepped into your home. "What the fuck, Steve!", you yelled while trying to push him back out. It was to no avail. "I know that you and Billy are bullshit.", he said. How would he know? "We're not bullshit, we're a couple.", you defended yourself. Steve laughed at that statement. "Then he's cheating, because I saw him leave with Isabella Reale." You didn't care who Billy hooked up with, since there were no feelings there. But this was a disadvantage for the whole story you two made up. "We have an open relationship.", you lied. This may be the moment where you get caught up in your lies. "You're not the kind of girl for open relationships." That made you scoff. "What do you know about me?"

"I know that your favourite class is history, and that you hate math. I know how much you hate brocoli, but still eat it for Prissy. Your favourite movie is Clueless, and you hate Mommie Dearest." He dumped all of that on you like it was nothing, yet it meant someone to you. There was no way you could drown the feelings you have for him if he kept this up. "And you love cherry coke, and pizza with extra cheese. You hate Mrs. O'Donnel and can't stand the theatre kids." It left you speechless, honestly. "I know you're not actually with Billy. Please, let me make it up."

A car pulled into your driveway. It was your father with Prissy in the backseat. "Steve, please go away.", you said. "I'm serious. Please give me another chance." Why did this not feel like you always imagined? There's nothing you wanted more than for him to confess his love to you, but this felt forced. Like a desperate attempt at not loosing you. Most likely, this is exactly what is was. "You asked me out on what was essentially a date, came there with Nancy, and when I confronted you about it all you had to say was that you didn't expect me to come. What part of you hurting me with that do you not understand?" Meanwhile, your father and daughter were unloading the groceries. "Mommy!", she yelled as she ran up to you with a small plastic bag in hand. "We got you chocolate! Oh, Steve!" She excitedly looked at Steve with a toothy grin. "Is he visiting us?" You patted the top of her head and shook your head. "He was about to leave, baby, Steve only had a question about school." She nodded before carrying her bag inside. "Goodbye, Steve.", you said while your dad passed you with the other bags.

But Steve would be dammed if he didn't at least try to win you back.

"He's onto us.", you whispered to Billy as he walked through the hallway while holding your hand. "Who?", he asked. Steve was looking at the two of you from afar. "Harrington. He came over yesterday and said we're faking." Billy sighted and looked around, saw Steve at his locker starring at you and pulled you in for a kiss. Although that kiss was a borderline makeout session. "Still pisses him off to see us, no?", he said with a smirk. You quietly nodded your head before you continued walking to his locker. "What are you doing later?", he asked while putting his stuff away. "Same as always. I still have a daughter at home." He kept quiet for a bit, probably thinking, before speaking up after a good 30 seconds. "How about I come over when she's in bed?" You never even thought of that option, but it wasn't a bad one. "We can try. But she still wakes up sometimes, and I'm gonna have to take care of her." There was a small smile on Billy's lips. "That'll do.", he said. "See you tonight." With a wink and a small clap to your butt, he left. While Steve saw it all, he couldn't help but feel insane jealousy while also blaming himself. He shouldn't have treated you the way he did, and now there was nothing he could think of to fix it. What he didn't hear is that Billy and you made plans for the night, which would be his demise.

Prissy was fast asleep in bed when there was a knock on the door. You've actually put time and effort into dolling yourself up with some nice clothes and doing your hair. It felt good to do that, considering there's usually no reason to. With a smile, you opened the door just to see Steve standing there with a box of chocolates. "Goddammit, Steve.", you sighted. "Will you please just listen?", he begged. Having King Steve beg you to hear him out wasn't the worst scenario, but with knowing that Billy would be here soon it stressed you. "Sure.", you finally said.

"I'm so sorry for what I did to you. You are the last person who deserved that, okay? You're strong, and admirable and too good for this world. Please, just one chance." His words felt genuine, and you could tell that he was truly sorry. Honestly, it made you emotional. Steve handed you the box of chocolates, and you took it. "Thank you.", you said quietly. "Just...give me some time, okay?" He smiled in front of you for the first time in weeks. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you need." As he went to leave, Billy's car parked in your driveway. "Who do we have here?", he said with a cocky grin while stepping out of his car. "Billy, it's fine. He was about to leave." You sneakily put the chocolates on the small table beside the door. "I sure hope so.", he said while walking up to you. "What did you want?" Billy wrapped his arm around your hip and pulled you closer. "None if your business.", Steve replied while putting his hands on his hips. "I think it's all of my business when you're suddenly at my girls doorstep."

"She's not your girl, I know you two are faking this to piss me off." You could feel Billy's hand tighten around your waist, and it wasn't in a possessive way. "So what? Still makes you mad, doesn't it Harrington?" He chuckled at his own words and smirked. "You know what, I might put a baby in her tonight just to spite you." At this point, you got between the two. "Billy, that's enough. Get inside." Before Billy even got in, Steve already turned on his heel and walked back to his car.

"Jesus Billy, what's gotten into you?", you asked in a hushed tone after closing the front door. "Pissing him off, what else?", he replied with a smirk before pulling you close by your hips. "Come on, forget about him. There's better things to do." Billy tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear before leaning in to kiss your neck in the now-bare spot. "Not here. Upstairs.", you whispered before leading him into your room.

"Alright baby, we need eggs.", you said to your daughter while looking at the display in front of you. Prissy was sitting in the grocery cart with her stuffed dolphin while also having a small look. As you bend down to grab a carton of ten eggs, your daughter happily said "Steve!" You got up, carton in hand, and looked behind you. There he was, Steve Harrington with a pack of chips and coke in his hands. "Hey.", he said with a small smile as he walked up to the both of you. "Hey.", you said as well. Considering that, last time you saw him, Billy told him he'd put a spite-baby in you Steve was awfully happy to see you. "Boys weekend?", you asked while gesturing at the junkfood in his hands. "No, my parents are out of town this weekend so I'll have some time alone." Prissy took the eggs from your hand and clumsily put them in the cart before leaning over to you a bit. "Can Steve come to dinner?" It surprised you how much of an impression he must've made on her from one meeting that was 2 minutes long at best. But her question also left you a bit speechless. Ever since you two talked that one night, he let you be and respected your boundaries. "If he wants to, baby.", you said to your daughter while petting the top of her head. She gave him a wide grin, and how could he reply anything but "I'd love to." Your daughter made her signature sitting happy dance in the cart, and you turned back to Steve. "We eat at six, but if you wanna help you can come at five.", you suggested. "Or play with this little ball of energy." He grinned at the suggestion. "Gladly. I'll see you at five." He waved to Prissy before walking off to the register. You looked at your grocery list again, then at your daughter. "We need more bacon."

As you finished putting the pumpkin in the oven to make it soft for your pumpkin soup, the doorbell rang. "Steve!", your daughter yelled while running to the front door. "Prissy, hold on!", you said loudly while running after her. She was alright trying to reach the doorknob as you came around the corner. "I told you before, only mommy and Paw-Paw open the door." She pouted a bit, but said "Okay, mommy.", before you opened the front door. Steve stood there with a bouquet of flowers in hand and a smile on his lips. "Hey. Come in.", you said as you two made space in the doorway. He stepped in, took off his shoes and handed you the flowers. "Thank you for inviting me.", he said, still smiling. "And thank you for the great idea." He got on Prissys level and handed her a pink rose you didn't see before. Her eyes lit up, and so did your heart. "What do we say?", you said to her. "Thank you, Steve!", she exclaimed loudly. Honestly, the last time you saw her this happy was when she got her stuffed dolphin on christmas last year. "Thank you.", you said to him with a smile. Underneath his humble demeanour, you could see that he was actual proud of getting both you and your daughter flowers. And he had everything reason to be. Who ever things of the teen mom, let alone her child? "No, thank you.", he replied. Prissy got him some slippers out from the small shoe rack in the hallway, which he slipped into. "Come on, I'll show you around." You lead him into the kitchen with these words, where you filled a vase and a small glass of water for the flowers. "So, this is the kitchen. If you want anything to drink, you can just take something from the fridge." While talking you checked on the pumpkin in the oven, which wasn't done yet. You further showed him the living room, guest bathroom and passed by the pantry. "And upstairs there's Prissy, my dads and my room.", you said at the end. Steve attentively listened for the entire tour and looked around, but he got especially stuck on the family pictures on the wall. The one of you, your dad and who was presumably your mom and brother struck out to him the most. He never heard you talk about your mom or brother. "Your dad's at work?", he asked while the both of you walked into the kitchen. Prissy was off to play in the living room with her baby doll. "Yeah, he usually works when I'm at school so he can take care of Prissy while I'm not here.", you explained while taking the pumpkins out of the oven. "Although she'll be four soon, and then it's just another year until she's the one going to school." It made you emotional if you thought about it too much, which you didn't wanna do right now. "First is our graduation.", Steve chimed in while leaning against the kitchen counter. You smiled slightly at his words. "Someones happy to leave." He laughed at your statement. "Oh yeah. Can't wait to get out." He helped you by chopping onions and garlic while you put the pumpkin in a big pot. "Are you going to college?", you asked. He said a dragged "No." while looking down at the chopping board. "Are you?" You shook your head. "Can't. With Prissy and everything, her starting school in a year or so, I don't have time. But the Presbyterian Church offered me a job as a receptionist."

"That's good though, isn't it?", he asked. You nodded your head. "It is, and I accepted it. Gonna be nice to actually have some money for myself." Steve nodded on agreement and laughed a bit as he finished chopping onions. Something about cooking with him made you feel warm inside; it just felt right. Like you two belonged in this moment together. Steve felt the same, although he didn't tell you yet.

Dinner went more than great. He helped getting Prissy into bed to his best abilities and sat down on the couch with you once she was asleep. "I'm sorry about what Billy said to you.", you started in a regretful tone. Steve looked at you, and against all your expectations, gave you a small smile. "You can't control what that asshole says. Although..." his arm snaked around your shoulder from behind you. "I kinda hope you stopped doing...whatever you two did." You giggled and leaned your head against his shoulder. "I did the next day. Guess you noticed." Now that you two were snuggling and you told how you've cut ties with Billy, he felt less tense. He's been on edge for weeks ever since that one night. "I didn't lie, by the way.", he started after a few minutes of silence. "I really like you." Now this confession felt right, like you always wanted it. "I really like you, too.", you said with a wide smile on your face. Steve smiled as well. "Can I take you out on an actual date? You can bring Prissy if there's nobody to look after her." A small giggle left your mouth. "Sure, I'd like that." Your heart started beating really fast, and Steve saw the small blush on your cheeks. "You're so beautiful when you get flustered.", he said in a hushed tone. The tension in the air could be cut with a knife. There was nothing you wanted more than to kiss him on the spot. Both of you leaned in, but the moment was ruined by a loud "Mommy, I wet myself!" from upstairs.

"Duty calls.", you said to Steve with a sigh before getting up.

[rigginsstreet]

Steve should have cheated on Nancy with Billy

I mean when would he have had the time Nancy broke up with him like 2 minutes after he met Billy lmao

BUT

I do love a sloppy steve moment so imagine with me if you will:

Steve is happy in love with his girlfriend. Life is going great as far as he’s concerned. He’s at a Halloween party all dressed up dancing the night away with his girl. What could be better than this

He ends up in the kitchen at one point to get him and Nancy some more lunch. He’s still got a bounce in his step, grinning from ear to ear. Maybe he can convince Nancy to neck in the car later before she has to go home or he can sneak into her room… whichever

But then the new guy is suddenly at his shoulder, probably waiting for his turn at the punch. Steve’s all “oh hey man here you go” and makes to leave but billy starts his whole king Steve thing except this time without any venom. He’s being super flirty about it and Steve “never met a homosexual” Harrington is super confused and absolutely not picking up what Billy’s putting down so he leaves the exchange bewildered but also kinda horny for some reason… he’s probably just drunk. Whatever

Cut to Steve in the bathroom taking a piss when billy stumbles in all “oh oops my bad” like genuinely didn’t know anyone was in here but once he sees it’s Steve he goes from 😳 to 😏

Gets ESPECIALLY excited when he sees Steve’s dick is still hanging out and wooo boy that thing is impressive.

And Steve’s all awkward fumbling trying to get out like “oh yeah it’s fine I’ll just go lol” but then billy starts flirting with him again, starts talking about what a nice looking dick he has cuz billys just drunk enough to be a little too forward for his own good and Steve’s never had another guy talk about his dick outside of like locker room banter and it’s this sweaty shirtless guy with nice tits - wait what who said that - and Steve won’t lie he’s kinda getting hard about it…

So anyway cut to billy on his knees giving Steve a blowie in the bathroom that rocks Steve’s world and awakens him to some homosexual desires he previously did not have and billy sends him out back to his girlfriend and calls it’s a night

And the rest of the night Steve is thinking about billy and his mouth. Thinks about it when he’s fucking Nancy in the back of his beemer. Thinks about it the next day at school when they’re meant to be studying in the library. DEFINITELY thinks about it during basketball practice when hargroves rubbing all over him in those tight little shorts and like

Steve is NOT gay. Has never been gay. Him dragging Billy into the equipment closet after practice is just like…a fluke. An experiment to see if his drunk mind is still possessing his sober one.

But after a week of messy hook ups in janitors closets and under bleachers and the quarry on a Saturday morning steve doesn’t think he can keep blaming being drunk anymore…