#Summer Wedding in Indianapolis | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

crappymixtape · 2 years ago

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laugh like lovers, kiss like friends

you're getting married – steve’s in town for the ceremony and it dredges up old memories, ones you thought you'd forgotten, but you have to decide, will you say ‘i do’ or will your heart realize what you really want has been there all along? | ( 9.1k, angst, fluff, friends to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )

L A U G H L I K E L O V E R S, K I S S L I K E F R I E N D S 🎶 cold water swimming, quiet houses

“How about these, dear? Eucalyptus pairs lovely with peonies. Besides, wildflowers for a wedding? In all my years as a planner I’ve never seen it. No one does it. It's just tacky, hon.”

Twirling the stem of a daisy between your fingers you bit the inside of your cheek, only half hearing the woman standing next to you among all the buckets and vases of flowers in the greenhouse.

Wildflowers for a wedding? No one does it.

Pulling your eyes off the daisy you forced a smile, “Of course, I’m sorry. Peonies sound great.”

“Wonderful, I’ll add it to the day-of agenda and make sure the florist knows you’ve made up your mind. It’s an excellent choice, one your fiance will be happy with I’m sure.”

Your fiance.

Sam proposed less than a month ago in the kitchen of your little downtown Indianapolis apartment with his grandmother’s ring. A huge, gaudy diamond that made your hands look even smaller than they already were and after you’d called your mom the news had spread like wildfire.

Sam didn’t want to wait, he probably would’ve dragged you down to the courthouse if it hadn’t been for his parents and your mom, but it meant things were moving at the speed of light and you were running to catch up.

When he’d looked up at you, ring box outstretched, you knew what your first thought should’ve been. Tears and overwhelming joy and a resounding Yes! but none of it came. Instead your first thought had been long stalks of grass. The glittering turquoise water of the quarry. Skunky weed and wildflowers and hot, sticky Indiana summers.

Steve.

“Babe, you gotta call the bakery back, the lady doesn’t get it. Idiot,” Sam’s voice cut through into your thoughts and you blinked them away.

“What?”

“The cake? She’s not getting it. I told her we wanted vanilla, like actual vanilla not that imitation shit.”

“Julie’s not an idiot,” your tone grew clipped, short, brow furrowing as you folded your arms across your chest. Julie had lived in Hawkins since before your family moved in across the street from her. The only, and best, bakery in town with the sweetest baker known to man. Julie was a saint.

“Okay, well then you try and explain it to her. I’m done,” Sam huffed, pinching his nose between his fingers and shaking his head. “I’m gonna go get food with my mom. Can’t wait until this is all over,” he grumbled under his breath. “I’ll see you back at the house," and with that he hastily pressed a kiss to your forehead before stalking out of the greenhouse.

“Not really a man’s arena is it,” the planner said giving you an overly sweet smile, “Better to let us take care of it, hm?”

“I guess,” you couldn’t bear to force another smile, “Thanks for your help, but I need to go get ready for tonight. Call me if anything else comes up.”

“On it and don’t you worry, only a few more days. Just think! The happiest day of your life!”

The happiest day of your life.

It sure as hell didn’t didn’t it feel like it.

The high vaulted ceilings in your parents’ living room looked the same as they had when you lived there. Same ugly, bumpy texture and yellowed color, now with a few too-high cobwebs just out of reach hanging in the corners.

The buzz of conversation filling the air around you was incessant, blending and blurring together and making you feel like you were far away. Like you were a spectator and not the bride-to-be and your chest squeezed with nerves. There were so many people packed into the house and as guests hurled their questions at you, your anxiety only grew.

“Oh, sweetie you look amazing! You’ll be a beautiful bride!” “Tell me again, where are you going for your honeymoon?” “Sam is such a catch, does he have any available friends? Just kidding! But seriously?” “Oh my god, look at that ring! He must really love you.”

One of Sam’s cousins had been hammering you with question after question, barely giving you any room to reply and you felt like you were drowning in it. The walls of the living room suddenly felt like they were closing in on you, making you feel claustrophobic and you needed air. Outside. Anything other than this. “Is-is it warm in here?” you stuttered, pulling at the collar of your dress.

“No? What d’you mean–”

“I’m sorry, excuse me,” you didn’t wait for her to finish and instead moved as quickly as you could through the crowd, trying not to project your panic with a fake smile plastered on your lips until you reached the slider door.

“Honey!” your stomach sank. Your mom. “Your aunt and uncle just got here, you need to say hello!”

Looking over your shoulder she was standing with her hands on her hips, brow furrowed in frustration, watching as your fingers gripped the handle of the patio door.

“I know,” your voice was edged with irritation and you bit your tongue. “Please? I just need some air for a minute. I’ll be right back,” and you could tell she didn’t like your answer, but she didn’t fight you on it as you slipped outside, all the noise and voices and music blunted and sliced in half as you shut the door behind you.

Leaning back against the glass, eyes closed, you pulled in a breath of air and let it out slowly. Trying, telling, yourself you had to keep it together. Just a minute out here and you’d feel right as rain. Ready to dive back in.

The happiest day of your life.

“Shouldn’t you be inside?”

Your eyes flew open, an all-too-familiar voice making your heart leap into your throat.

He was sitting on the edge of one of the pool loungers like it was nothing, a few locks of stray hair falling into his eyes, all warm honey and burnt caramel and the boyish grin he was giving you made you feel dizzy. Like it always did.

“I’ve been inside for like two hours,” you shot back, but you couldn’t ever bring yourself to really sound mad at him.

At Steve.

“Well don't sound like you’re having too much fun. Not like you’re getting married in three days or anything,” he teased, scooting over on the lounger, a silent invitation for you to sit next to him and you took it.

“Don’t remind me–” fell out, “–what I mean is–it's just–just planning everything has been...a lot.”

Steve caught your slip up, but didn’t call it out, only humming in reply as he threaded a hand through his hair, watching as you settled down next to him. “I’m about a month late, but congrats,” he offered with a small smile before taking a drink from his beer.

“Oh, yeah. Thanks,” you replied lamely, cheeks flushing when he looked over at you. You were entirely too sober for this. “Here, gimme that,” reaching over you took the beer from his hand, chugging half of it in one go and pulling a laugh out of Steve.

“Jesus,” Steve laughed, amused at you, a sound you’d missed so very much. “Take it easy,” he chided gently, but it was all warm and sticky sweet like popsicles on a hot day and when you gave it back he shook his head.

Silence lingered between you for a moment, the static sound of the pool filter trickling in the background, and your thoughts drifted back to a moment a few years ago. Up in your room while summer spun by outside. The last time he'd been over here. Steve.

Bobbing along to the music coming from your stereo, you crammed the last of your photos into one of the empty supply boxes Steve had brought over from Family Video.

“I wanted to be with you alone and talk about the weather, but traditions I can trace against the child in your face won't escape my attention,” you sang a little off key, giving your shoulders a little shimmy as you turned to grab the pile of books on your bed.

“You keep your distance via the system of touch and gentle persuasion. I'm lost in admiration, could I need you this much?” Steve sang back, browed knitted together in dedication to the bit, hips swaying as he wiped down your dresser. Turning with the roll of paper towels in his hand he held it out to you as the chorus neared, both of you singing horribly.

“Oh, you're wasting my time, you're just, just, just wasting time!”

“God, who’s gonna sing shitty with me when you’re not around?” Steve tossed the roll onto your bed, leaning back against the drawers behind him.

“Robin sucks more than I do,” you shot back, and Steve mumbled in agreement.

“Yeah, but she hates Tears for Fears,” there was a slight whine in his voice that made you look up at him over your box and grin.

“Well then save it for me when I’m back on Christmas break.”

Steve gave you a pout and folded his arms over his chest, “That’s like, a fucking eon from now.”

“It’s not that long,” you moved around the other side of your bed to sit in front of him, a small pause swallowing you both into silence.

Clearing your throat you dropped your gaze down your shoes, kicking them in time with the song still playing in the background. You glanced over at Steve’s dirty, beat up Blazers and smiled. “I guess I’ll miss you,” you teased, looking back up at him and he gave you a smile, but it softened the longer he looked at you.

“I know I’ll miss you,” he said, and you knew he meant it, and your heart fluttered in your chest like a bird caught in a cage as the air around you grew thick with words unsaid, but implied. Steve took a step away from the dresser, standing in the V of your legs, hand moving to lift your chin up with his thumb and forefinger.

You bit your bottom lip between your teeth, meeting his gaze, and everything felt hazy. “Miss you too, Stevie,” you murmured and he leaned down slowly. Tilting your chin ever so gently he hesitated for just a second before pressing his lips against yours. Your room and half-packed boxes and everything fell away in the warm, glittering feeling of Steve and summer and the last of the light falling through your window washed you both in gold like it wanted to hold you in that moment forever.

“How long are you in town for?” your voice broke the silence between you and Steve took another drink of his beer.

“Just til the day after the wedding, need to get back to things,” he said softly, stealing a look at you out of the corner of his eye, smiling at the way your nose scrunched up when you were thinking, “You look really pretty by the way.”

Your cheeks warmed and you stole a look at him too, “You have to say that.”

“No I don’t. I do on your wedding day, but this is a freebie,” he teased, trying to make it seem lighter than it was, but you both knew the weight it carried.

“Babe, c’mon. You gotta get back inside. It’s rude. People are looking for you,” the sudden sound of Sam’s voice sliced your moment in two and Steve sat up straight, leaning away from you as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Alright, I just needed some air,” your voice sounded tired and Steve caught the look in your eyes as you roughed your hands over your face, “I’m coming.”

“Harrington,” Sam sniped, and Steve gave him a big smile, knowing just how much the other man hated finding the two of you sitting together.

“Sammy,” Steve teased and you had to bite back a laugh, hiding it in a cough, but Sam knew.

“I fuckin’ hate that,” Sam gave Steve a look and he just smiled.

“I think it’s cute,” you chimed in, but knew you should’ve kept it to yourself when Sam glared daggers at you.

“Inside,” he said, patience short, and you felt your own run out as you glared right back, but moved toward the slider door anyway.

“I’ll see you,” you told Steve and just before you slipped back into the chaos, he gave you a look. The same one you remembered from that hot summer evening in your room as you packed your life into boxes. A look that put fire to the embers lying dormant in your chest and something you thought had been extinguished flickered back to life.

“Sam, hurry up, we’re going to be late!”

“I’m trying. You know how much I hate being outside. These stupid boots are too tight and–” Sam grunted, leaning over to tug at his socks, “–these are itchy as hell.”

“You don’t have to wear them, but your legs are gonna get bit up and scratched on the trail,” you shook your head, yanking your own worn-in boots onto your feet.

“Bit? Are you kidding me?”

“What? It’s summer, there are a ton of bugs out right now.”

Sam sucked in a breath and put his face in his hands, standing on the other side of the bed from you. He’d agreed to it at first, thought maybe it might be a quaint little jaunt through a park, but when he realized it was an actual hike up the bluff just outside Hawkins – in nature – he’d thrown a fit.

It was one of your favorite places, a special piece of home, and you were going to go with or without him.

“Just stay home, Sam. It’s fine,” you huffed, kicking your suitcase shut, tugging your ponytail through the back of your baseball cap.

“You know what? Maybe I will. This whole place is too much. Jason’ll get beers with me,” he growled under his breath, yanking his boots off to get to his socks, “Enjoy your hike.”

“Great, thanks, will do,” you almost left the room without saying goodbye, but something made you hesitate and you paused for a second at the door, eyes squeezed shut. Why was everything so damn hard? This was supposed to be easy.

The happiest day of your life.

Resigned, you turned around and retraced the few steps over to Sam. “I’ll see you when we’re back,” you muttered, bending down and brushing a hasty kiss to his cheek.

“See you,” he didn’t meet your gaze, instead scowling at the ground and it was the push you needed to leave, the weight on your shoulders lifting as you hurried down the stairs and out the door.

The sun was just coming up, painting the sky cotton candy pinks and blurred warm tangerines. You could feel the heat already and as you got out of your car at the bluff the feeling of the sun on your bare legs pulled a heavy sigh from your lungs. Breathing out the stress and pressure of the last few days and you closed your eyes for a minute, leaning against the warmth of your car.

It would be okay. Today was for you. This was for you.

Opening them again you heard another car rumbling up the dirt road behind you and when you turned around you grinned so big your cheeks started to hurt.

“OH MY GOD,” Robin squealed. She practically leapt out of the backseat of Steve’s BMW and ran over to you, gathering you up in her arms and squeezing tight. “What the hell! You look amazing! Shit. Is this like, pre-wedding glow or did you stop eating meat or something? I hear it’s like, totally bad for your skin.”

“Robin,” Steve shook his head as he shut his car door before walking around to get Robin’s too.

“What? All legitimate questions! Right, Eds?” she shot back.

“I mean, not the first thing I’d ask,” Eddie replied with a grin, but you could hear the softness of him behind it.

“Alright, well I wouldn’t expect you to know anyway. Weddings are like a foreign language to you plebs,” Robin said simply, clicking her fanny pack around her waist.

“Hey, that’s not fair, I know enough,” Steve chimed in, propping a hand on his hip and giving Robin a look.

“Children, not about us today!” Eddie chided, following after Robin and gathering you up into one of his bear hugs. “Hi, sweetheart,” he held you out at arm’s length and gave you a warm Eddie smile.

“Hi,” you grinned back, the happiest you’d been in days just listening to the comforting sound of your friends bickering, “Missed you.”

“Mmm, you too,” Eddie hummed, shooting a quick glance over at Steve. “Some of us more than others,” he said a bit quieter, bringing his eyes back to you and you felt your cheeks flush.

“Okay, hike?” you deflected, then accusingly looked back at Eddie, “You’re not still smoking are you?”

“Only on Wednesdays,” he flipped back casually, but you knew he was full of shit.

“Munson, you’re a horrible liar,” Steve drawled, rolling his eyes, starting the walk to the edge of the bluff. “Nance and Jonathan are already at the top,” he said over his shoulder, “Jonathan wanted to get a time lapse of the sunrise.”

“Oh, sick,” Eddie clapped his hands, “I gotta see it. C’mon, Buckley get with it.” He waved an arm forward, pulling Robin into a jog and you shook your head with a soft laugh as you caught up with Steve. Starting up the bluff two by two.

The sounds of everything coming to life swirled around the four of you as you walked. The buzz of the insects, birds chirping their morning songs and tractors rumbling to life in the fields alongside the bluff.

Home.

“God, the last time we were up here was so Dustin could talk to Suzie,” Steve half-laughed, Eddie and Robin walking just ahead of you. You grinned at the memory.

“Oh no,” you shook your head, “They might be worse than we are at singing.”

“Didn’t think it was possible to be honest,” he teased gently, smiling over at you, looking for a long moment before dropping his gaze back down to his feet.

You could feel his eyes on you and the warmth of it filled you up and spilled over at the edges, making you happier than you’d been in a long time and a tiny pinch of guilt squeezed in your chest.

“Thanks for getting up so early,” you exhaled, breaths getting heavier as the incline of the bluff steepened, Steve pulling in a breath next to you.

“Oh, I don’t think I’ve slept in since high school,” he waved you off, “Managing a store’s got me up ass early every day. Besides, wouldn’t miss it.” Arms swinging at your sides, his fingers brushed against yours as you walked and the embers in your chest glowed bright.

“Yeah,” you sighed, wishing that for once Sam had come along. That he’d put even a little bit of effort into your interests. That he’d care even a fraction of what Steve cared and the embers flickered again with your frustration.

“You two are slow as hell!” Eddie teased and when you looked up you saw he and Robin had been moving much faster than you and Steve. “I’m smoking a victory cigarette at the top!” he yelled and Robin smacked him, both of them dissolving into laughter.

“C’mon, that asshole doesn’t need another cigarette,” Steve’s brow furrowed in frustration and he picked up the pace, pulling you along with him as he lengthened his stride.

Jonathan and Nancy were waiting for the four of you at the top and, much to Eddie’s dismay, Robin beat him by a couple of feet, stealing his cigarettes and jamming them into her fanny pack as punishment.

Jonathan had asked Nancy to marry him two years ago now, Christmas eve under the tree at the farm and they’d eloped that spring there on top of the bluff. It had been a small, but sweet ceremony, with only family and close friends. Perfectly Nance and Jonathan and as you thought back on it your stomach twisted with a longing feeling.

As you sat scattered among the long grass in pairs – Eddie and Robin, Nancy and Jonathan, you and Steve – a breeze picked up and blew through the wildflowers around you, taking then with it and you watched as the buttercups danced in the wind.

You wanted wildflowers. Not peonies and eucalyptus.

“Hey, where’d you go?” Steve’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you looked over at him, sat close enough to you in the grass that you could see all the little moles and freckles that dotted down the line of his jaw, his neck, the exposed skin along the top of his shirt.

“Flowers,” fell out and you didn’t shy away from him, meeting his gaze.

“Flowers?” he asked, brow knitting together in confusion.

“Stupid flowers. And cake. And nature and socks and–”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down. What are you talking about?” Steve scooted closer to you, your legs pressing together as you sat facing each other and he put a hand on your knee.

Your throat tightened and you felt tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you willed them away. Not here. You didn’t mean it.

“Hey,” he said softer, hand lifting from your knee to press into yours and you blinked hastily, pulling in a breath to steady yourself.

“I don’t know,” you started, closing your eyes for a minute, trying to ground yourself. “I just–I thought this would be easier. We’re supposed to be in love and planning this should be fun, but it sucks and he–” catching yourself you looked back up at Steve and felt him squeeze your hand. “I’m sorry, it’s just stress. I shouldn’t–”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Steve said, thumb brushing over the bump of your knuckles, soft and warm and reassuring.

He was looking at you again like he had at the welcome party, like you were the only thing that existed in that moment and you felt yourself moving closer, your legs hovering over his with the lack of space.

“I wish Sam would look at me like that,” you whispered and Steve’s lips parted in surprise, anticipation grabbing hold of both of you as the wind picked up again.

“He’s an idiot if he doesn’t,” Steve whispered back, leaning closer still and you could feel his breath as it warmed over your cheek. The scent of his shampoo and spearmint gum and cedar and wildflowers flooding your brain and making everything feel hazy. His eyes all bright amber and flecks of gold in the sun. Closer and closer and closer and–

“Harrington! You left the food in the car!”

Leaning back from each other you felt the tension shatter with the bark of Eddie’s voice and you leapt to your feet.

“God, what a dingus,” Robin grumbled, “Now we gotta go back down.”

“Hey,” Steve scrambled to his feet ignoring them, grabbing your hand in his, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. I just–I forgot I have to meet with the baker today about the cake this morning.”

“Oh,” Steve’s expression was edged with concern and he let your hand drop as the others started moving to the top of the trail.

“Rehearsal dinner is tonight right?” Robin asked offhandedly, grabbing a piece of licorice from her fanny pack.

“You have licorice in there and didn’t offer me any?” Eddie accused.

“Yeah, tonight at seven at Hop and Joyce’s farm,” you said, trying to sound casual, but the warm feeling of Steve was still holding you tightly.

“Open bar?” Eddie grinned.

“Oh my god, Munson. Shut up,” Robin chided, shoving him as they all wandered down the path in a line, you and Steve bringing up the rear.

“Course it’s open bar,” you tried to laugh, but it fell short, everything feeling like it was crumbling now.

The breeze picked up, swirling around your feet, carrying spearmint and Steve’s shampoo and boy with it and as you watched the bachelor buttons sway with the wind you felt a thought gnawing at the back of your mind.

What if.

There was still time.

Nothing’s permanent.

People change their minds all the time and…

Come over here. All you've got is this moment, twenty-first century's yesterday. You can care all you want, everybody does, yeah, that's okay.

“Chug, chug, chug!” “Don’t be a pussy, Jason!” “No way, he’s too old!”

It felt like you were back in high school throwing a rager over at Tina Rochester’s house not having drinks after your rehearsal dinner, but after most of the ‘adults’ had all gone home things got carried away.

Hop and Joyce’s farm was far enough outside of town that the noise wouldn’t bother anyone and thank god because it was loud. Maybe open bar hadn’t been the best idea, but Sam was having a great time, smiling and laughing for once and you didn’t fight it. You were having fun too.

“Ohhh! He did it!!” “Get that man a medal!”

Jason Carver, Sam’s best man, crushed his empty beer can under his foot to whoops and hollers. You weren’t sure who started it, but someone had told someone else they could shotgun a beer faster and it spiraled from there. Sam was in his element, partying alongside the other ex-basketball players, and for a minute you felt like maybe things would be okay.

Gathering you up in his arms, Sam spun you in a circle, pressing his lips messy and drunk against your cheek. “God, babe. Should be illegal to look that good,” he slurred into your ear, arms still holding you tight as he lowered you slowly back to the ground.

A grin tugged at the corners of your lips. “Gonna write me a ticket?” you teased and he reached a hand around to grab at your ass.

“Maybe I will,” he breathed and you felt a shiver run down your spine, but then a voice pulled him away.

“Sam? Oh my god!”

Carol and Tommy. Great.

“Carol?? I didn’t think y’all were getting here til tomorrow! Tommy, you look like shit,” Sam barked a laugh and lunged at his old friend, grabbing him around the waist and pushing him across the patio.

“Fuck off, you’re one to talk,” Tommy growled back, digging his hands into Sam’s ribs and both of them fell back into their old selves. Talking about a couple of friends that had gone pro, work, what married life was like for Tommy and Carol.

“Babe, go get me another beer, huh?” Sam said over his shoulder and you rolled your eyes, but giving Carol a quick hug you made your way over to the keg.

Priming the tap you started to pour beer into a cup, but it sputtered and choked before spilling foam and you frowned. “Piece of shit,” kicking the keg you shook the garbage can it was sitting in and tried again, but this time nothing came out.

“Need a hand?”

Eyes still on the keg you sighed, a smile pulling at the corners of your lips as you dumped the foam in your cup onto the ground. “Tapped already,” you grumbled, turning around to see Steve grinning at you, hands jammed in his pockets, tie loose and hanging around his neck and you swore he was the most handsome human being you’d ever laid eyes on.

“Hmm, I don’t think so,” he took the last few steps toward you and primed the tap again, giving the keg one firm shake, and grabbed the cup from you. Foam started coming out and you jammed your tongue into your cheek.

“Ha! Told you–”

But then the foam turned into cold, amber beer, and you clamped your mouth shut.

“You were saying?” Steve teased and you shoved him, spilling some of the beer that he’d just poured into your cup on the ground. “Hey! You’re a menace,” he chided softly, shouldering you back, but grabbing the spout again he filled the cup once more and handed it back to you.

“Thanks,” you muttered, glancing over at him as you took a sip.

“Sam seems to be having a good time,” he commented, finding a cup of his own and filling it.

“Yeah, right back to high school.” You watched as your fiance, Tommy, and Jason all snickered and laughed at each other, talking about ‘the good old’ days, and your smile fell.

You couldn’t remember the last time he laughed like that with you. When he was drinking he got more handsy, liked to keep you close to his side and brag about how you were about to get married, but nothing about how hard you worked or the fact that you were saving up to buy a place.

“I dunno,” Steve sighed, taking a drink of his beer, “I don’t miss it.”

“Me either,” you agreed, glancing up at him, and your heart stopped.

God he was pretty. The string of lights that wound around the property washed him in a warm glow. Hair falling out of place as the night spun on, the line of his jaw cast in half light, dark and strong, the long sweep of his lashes as he blinked and looked down at you, the way his lips pulled up into that smile.

“What?” Steve asked, tone amused and playful and your eyes grew wide.

“What?” you echoed stupidly.

Steve laughed and gave you a lopsided smile. “You tell me, you’re the one zoning out,” he teased and your cheeks flushed.

“Oh, n-nothing,” you stumbled over your words and quickly filled the silence with another gulp of beer.

“Okay, well when it comes back to you lemme know.” His eyes lingered on yours for just a moment longer and then a look came over him. Like he remembered something. “Oh, hey. C’mere a minute,” and then he was grabbing your hand and pulling you around the side of the barn.

As he pulled you into motion you felt just how buzzed you were and a giggle pushed itself through your lips. “What the hell are we doing?” you asked, Steve loosing a laugh of his own as he yanked you both to a stop a few yards away from the party out in the long grass of Hop’s field.

“There,” he said pointing up and you followed the line of his arm into the sky until your eyes landed on it.

“Oh,” you breathed, pulling your gaze back to Steve as he looked up into the inky black expanse of the Indiana night. He was just how you remembered him. Hair messed, all boyish and eyes full of wonder and curiosity, just like he’d been those years ago that night in his backyard while you floated in his pool.

“Yeah, that one. Right there,” Steve swam closer to you, grabbing your arm, fingers folding yours in to make a point and tugging it up over your head.

Your breath hitched in your throat as his legs brushed against yours under the water and it took everything you had in you to pull your eyes from him to look up.

“See it?”

“That one?” you asked, pointing on your own, and he nodded as your eyes trailed up the line of your arm to land on an especially bright star.

“Mmhm,” Steve murmured and all you wanted was to look at him again, so you did. “While you’re gone you can just look up at that at night and think of me,” he said matter-of-fact, giving you one of his lopsided grins.

“What if we’re not looking at the same time?”

“I’ll always be looking,” Steve’s voice was barely above a whisper and the way he looked at you made you feel like you might melt. Blinking water from your lashes you lifted a hand to his cheek and at your touch his hands slipped along the bare skin of your waist, sliding down to your hips as he slowly pulled you into him.

The pool filter was humming heavy between the all crickets and frogs and lightning bugs, but you knew the thudding of your heartbeat was louder than all of it.

Wrapping your legs around Steve’s torso, you laced your fingers at the back of his neck, wanting him closer and tighter. Hair messed and flat against his forehead, his lips were parted as he breathed you in, water dripping off the end of his nose and eyes glittering in the pool lights, burnt caramel and honey and if he hadn’t been holding onto you, you would’ve floated away.

His fingers pressed into the soft skin at your hips and you sucked in a small gasp.

“Sorry,” he whispered, and you shook your head in reply. It’s okay. And then he gently pressed his thumb to the corner of your lips, swallowing against his nerves, and asked, “Can I kiss you?”

Heart racing, fingers still tangled at the back of his neck you whispered, “Yes.”

“Remember when we found it?”

Steve’s question brought you hurtling back to the present and you shook your head, heart racing in your chest like it had that night in his pool. “Of course I remember,” you murmured, and you knew you were crossing a line, knew you shouldn’t have done it, knew Sam was just around the other side of the barn, but something in you snapped. Shifted. Decided it didn’t care and you took Steve’s hand in yours.

His eyes flicked down to where they were joined and then back up to you, “But–”

“We’re friends,” you reasoned softly, “Friends hold hands.”

“Are we?” he asked and you swore you felt your heart crack as your fingers scrambled to tangle up with his.

“Yeah. Yes. We are,” your words came spilling out, the beer spidering warm and hazy through your body as you tried to justify your action and Steve’s brows furrowed as he dropped his gaze.

“I should go,” he said and regret gripped you like a vice.

“Don’t, please don’t,” your tone was almost pleading, watching as Steve’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, working through his own decision and you thought for a minute he would cave like he always did for you, but then his hand was untangling from yours and the ache in your chest was almost enough to pull tears from your eyes.

“You’re getting married tomorrow,” he said, voice thick and low, and when he opened his eyes finally to look at you, you saw a thousand I’m sorrys, all the regret and lingering kisses on hot summer nights and promises whispered in the dark and you shook your head.

“But it’s not–we can’t–please stay,” nothing you said made sense and Steve ran a hand through his hair, pulling his lip between his teeth.

“Get some sleep. I’ll see you at the church.”

And as you watched his figure walk away, silhouetted and dark against the indigo sky, your star blinking bright above you, you felt tears finally well up and spill down your cheeks.

Sucking in a breath you turned back to the the wide open expanse of field behind you and buried your face in your hands, trying to calm down, willing the tears to stop, telling yourself that you loved Sam. You were getting married. The ring on your finger a constant reminder of what was supposed to happen tomorrow and when you finally lifted your head from your hands your eyes fell on a bright patch there in the field at your feet.

Wildflowers.

Walking back to the party felt like a blur, Steve’s words playing over and over in your mind, and when you came back into the glow of the strung up lights your eyes searched frantically for Sam. If you could just hold his hand, pull him in close you’d know you loved him. Would know you wanted to marry him, but he wasn’t there and everything felt like it was unraveling.

“Hey, are you okay?” Robin’s hand was at your elbow and when you looked up at her, her brow furrowed with worry. “Whoa, what happened?”

“I just need to find Sam, have you seen him?”

“Yeah, yeah I think he was just over here, c’mon. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I just need Sam,” you choked out, Robin’s hand grabbing yours and pulling you along.

“Okay, we’ll find him, it’ll be okay.”

And as you rounded the corner into the quiet of the barn you heard hushed voices. Robin flicked on the overhead lighting to reveal Carol and Sam talking, huddled close to one another and your heart stopped in your chest.

“Wha–Sam? Carol?”

Carol’s eyes went wide and she took a couple steps back, giving you one of her smiles, all flimsy and saccharine sweet. “Oh my god, we thought you left!” she exclaimed, trying a laugh and you heard Robin mumble something under her breath next to you.

“Well, I didn’t. It’s my rehearsal dinner.”

“Babe, we were just trying to plan a surprise for you. For tomorrow, that’s all,” Sam said, taking the few steps toward you, taking your hand in his, but you felt sick to your stomach. You knew that look in his eye, his tone of voice overcompensating for something, lying.

“Yeah! Totally,” Carol said a little too enthusiastically and Robin had had enough.

“Oh my god, totally great!” she mocked, throwing one of Carol’s empty smiles back at her before taking your hand. “It’s super late, Carol. Time to go,” this time Robin’s voice was void of all joking and the look she gave the other girl was enough to push her to leave.

“Absolutely, sure thing. See you tomorrow! Can’t wait,” she purred, but her smile faltered as she met your gaze, walking quickly back out into the night.

“Babe, we really were planning a surprise, I–I just want tomorrow to be perfect,” Sam took your hand from Robin, shouldering her out of the way and she scoffed, still lingering in case you needed her.

“In here? In the dark?” your voice wobbled a bit as you realized what you were implying and Sam squeezed your hand, but it felt suffocating not warm or safe like Steve and you pulled it away. “I’m gonna go home, get some sleep.”

“Of course, baby. Whatever you need,” Sam crowded around you, rubbing your shoulders and pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck, but you didn’t want any of it and shrugged him off.

“Can you give me a ride, Robs?” you asked, pulling away from Sam, your feet not moving you fast enough.

“Yeah, yeah I can give you a ride,” Robin took your hand again, Sam finding himself alone in the wide expanse of the barn on the eve of your wedding.

The happiest day of your life.

“Listen, can I tell you something?” Robin said shifting into park as she turned down the radio and idled in your parents’ driveway.

“Sure,” your voice was small, timid, not you as your thoughts still lingered on what Steve had said. What Sam and Carol had looked like huddled close together in Hop’s barn. Asking yourself why. Asking yourself what you really wanted.

“I don’t think you should get married.”

Your head whipped up from your lap, brows knitted together. “What?”

“I don’t think you should get married,” Robin said again voice softer this time, knowing the weight it carried as she let it settle in the car between you.

“It’s literally happening tomorrow. What d’you mean don’t get married,” you were scrambling now, afraid of what would happen if you let her woods take root, the doubt that had been hovering deep down now pushing itself front and center.

“People do it all the time–”

“No, they don’t!” tears were welling up against your lashes, your face growing hot, willing yourself not to fall apart.

“Okay! Okay, I’m sorry. Of course I’m gonna support you no matter what you decide,” Robin quickly recovered, grabbing your hands in hers as her expression softened. “Just–” a small sigh escaped her and she squeezed your hand, “–I want you to be happy. That’s all. Are you happy?”

Are you happy?

Robin looked at you, eyes wide, hands still holding onto yours and you felt yourself wrestling with the three simple words she’d thrown at you. Swallowing thickly, you couldn’t meet her gaze and pulled your hands away, grabbing at the door handle.

“I’m happy, I am,” and even you knew how flimsy it sounded, but your friend didn’t push you on it.

“Okay, okay. See you in the morning,” Robin said softly and all you could do was nod in reply before shutting the door and hurrying up the walk and into your parents’ house.

You didn’t bother showering as you moved quickly up the stairs to your room, not wanting to face your parents, not like this. Quietly shutting your door you felt the sob in your chest clawing its way up your throat and you tried to swallow it down as you threw back your covers and hid in the deep pile of blankets. You thought for a split second to call Sam over at Jason’s, ask him if he really loved you, if he still wanted to go through with this, but you buried your face into your pillow and tried to push your thoughts away.

Doubt had started blooming in the pit of your stomach from the moment you’d said yes, but it had just felt like the next right thing. Felt like you were supposed to. Date your boyfriend for a couple of years, move in together, get married. Right? But the things you tried hard to ignore kept bubbling up.

Your hesitation when Sam first asked you out. Your trips home on breaks and seeing Steve. The feelings you wrestled with when you saw him. When he talked to you and listened, really listened and looked at you. How it felt like a giant weight being lifted from your shoulders without Sam there.

Your first fight with Sam over money. How he spent so much of it going out with his friends. How you knew they stayed out late and talked to other girls. The high he got from it too much to stop him from doing it. The smell of the other girls on his clothes.

The first time he cheated on you and begged you to take him back. How the first person you wanted to call was Steve, but you called Robin instead.

And now the planning. All the disagreements and arguing and fighting and you were exhausted and he couldn’t even keep away from other women, from Carol, still after all that time.

Are you happy?

Robin’s question looped in your head and you knew the real answer.

No. But then…

Tap. Tap, tap tap.

Peeking your head out from under your covers your ears strained, trying to decide what it was you’d heard. Then it happened again.

Tap, tap. Tap.

There was only one thing that could make that sound, an all too familiar one that pulled forth a flood of precious, happy memories.

Rocks on your window.

Steve.

Crawling out of your bed you hurried to your window and yarded it open, sticking your head out and looking down like you’d done hundreds of times before. “Steve?” you hissed into the dark, and as the wind blew the clouds away from the moon, it shone down on the lawn below you washing Steve in soft light.

“Can I come up?”

You bit your bottom lip between your teeth, but knew there was no debate. “Yeah, hurry up,” and you moved out of the way as he started climbing the gutter before you’d even said yes.

Stumbling in through the open window Steve straightened up and dusted off his old, faded Hawkins High Athletics shirt, a pair of grey sweatpants hanging on his hips, the same pair of dirty, beat up Blazers on his feet.

“Hi,” he said awkwardly, tongue jammed into his cheek as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Hi?” it came out expectantly, a question, but you couldn’t hide the relief in your voice at the sight of him standing there in your room.

“Listen, I just wanted to say sorry. For earlier,” he said, walking to your bed and plopping down on the messed up covers.

“Oh, that’s okay, I shouldn’t have–”

“Just let me apologize,” he said shaking his head with a half laugh, expression mismatched as it twisted with something between regret and care.

So you listened and kept your mouth shut, instead deciding to settle down next to him on your bed, thighs pressed together on the small twin sized mattress. Silence lingered for a minute, but the air was heavy, loaded, like how it felt right before a thunderstorm. The sky holding its breath before opening up and pouring rain, cracking the sky in half with bright streaks of light.

You both stole a look at the same time and it pulled a smile from each of you, tiny breathy laughs falling from your lips, but when it quieted again the tension flooded back in.

“Do you love him?” Steve broke the quiet and you felt your chest tighten. When you hesitated he grabbed your hand in his. “Do you?”

Your pulse fluttered against your neck, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water and stumbling and choking on your words, but you knew the answer. You both did. You’d just admitted it to yourself before Steve had fallen through your window and the familiar feeling of panic started to creep in around you, flinging you back to right before you’d left home again. Before you met Sam.

“Steve! Wait!”

You were practically running after him as he stalked back to his car, the sky on fire with the sunset and streaked in cherry reds, sunflower yellows, and bright tangerine.

He fumbled with his keys and dropped them into the grass at his feet, “Shit.”

“Please, just wait,” you were out of breath as you finally reached him and you saw his frame crumple as he loosed a sigh.

“Jesus, what?” his tone was short, clipped as he stared through his car window, your reflection playing against the glass.

“It’s only for another year, it’s not like I’m gonna be gone for–”

“Yeah! Another year!” Steve spun around to face you, cheeks red and lips pulled down into a frown, a muddied mixture of sadness and anger swimming in his eyes. “Just admit it, you don’t wanna come back here, and that’s fine! But don’t make me wait. Please don’t make me wait anymore. It–” Steve choked on his words and dropped his eyes to his feet, biting on the inside of his cheek to blunt the feelings swelling his chest. “It hurts. To sit and wait here for you. Please,” his voice edged on pleading and you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

“It’ll work! It’s just a little longer–”

Steve took a step into you, crowding over you, and you felt your heart stutter in your chest at the closeness of him. He lifted a hand to your cheek, his brows pulling together as he looked down at you, eyes searching yours. “Then be with me. If it’s not that long then be with me. Long distance for a little while until you’re done with school,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

“Steve. I can’t–” your throat tightened around what you were about to say, scared of what that commitment looked like, scared to fuck it up between you, scared to lose your best friend, but your hesitation broke it anyway.

He dropped his hand away from your cheek, tongue flicking out to run along his lips as he held back his anger. His sadness. Frustration. Snatching his keys from the grass he unlocked the driver side door and flung it open rough.

“No! Wait! I just mean–”

“No!” he shouted into his car and then lowered his voice, tears streaming silently down his cheeks, “No. No more. Good luck with…everything.” And he piled into his car, slamming the door shut and ignoring your cries as you crowded against his window, asking him to stay. To talk about it. To figure things out, but he shifted it in drive and took off down your driveway and into the night.

You weren’t going to fuck it up. Not again.

“No,” and as your admission left your lips the heavy weight that had settled on your shoulders over the last two years started to melt away. “No. I don’t love him.”

Steve’s hold on you tightened, pressing your fingers into his palm and he lifted his free hand to your cheek, eyes searching yours, “Don’t marry him.”

Don’t marry him.

Your breath quickened and you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to reason out what you’d just decided and you felt anxious, but Steve was there. And your room was warm and safe. Just like it was when you were younger. When you both laughed and traded secrets and made promises to each other in the dark.

“But. The wedding. The flowers, the cake, the guests–”

“Fuck ‘em,” Steve said, still holding onto your hand, and his words swirled around in your head. “It’s only a wedding. This is your life,” brushing the rough pad of his thumb across your cheek you closed your eyes and leaned into his touch, “You’re not happy.”

And you weren’t. You’d had moments with Sam, moments in time where things felt right and like maybe it could be forever, but they were just that. Moments. It shouldn’t be this hard. You’d sacrificed, compromised, bent and twisted yourself to be what Sam wanted, what he needed, not what you wanted and when you finally looked up at Steve you felt tears welling up against your lashes.

“What will my mom say,” your voice wobbled as you tangled your fingers with Steve’s and he gave you a small, reassuring smile.

“She wants you to be happy too. She’ll be okay.”

You were dizzy, hazy with thoughts of not being engaged anymore, buzzing with the anticipation of what this decision meant. Of what it held. What the future could be and you looked back up at Steve, tears started to quietly spill down your cheeks and his hand was quick to gently wipe them away. You shook your head, holding your breath, and when you let it go everything came tumbling out.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry for making you wait. For hurting you. For everything–”

“Shh, it’s okay,” Steve softly chided, but you pressed on.

“No, no it’s my turn,” you said, voice thick through your tears, and then you turned to cup Steve’s face in your hands. A small smile pulled up at the corners of your mouth even through your crying and you pulled in a breath, “I love you, Stevie. I always have.”

The look on his face then was one of pure adoration, of relief, and he gave you a smile back, “I know. I love you too.”

I love you too.

Pulling him into you, you felt the soft warmth of his breath across your cheek, the smell of his shampoo and fresh laundry flooding your senses. Hesitating, waiting for him to tell you it was okay and he silently answered you by leaning in and closing the gap between your lips, pressing his softly into yours.

It was slow and languid, a thousand I love yous. Years of want and aching set free into the dark of your room as you breathed each other in like air. The feeling of Steve scattering you out into the stars to live with the one you’d deemed as yours, falling between all the glittering constellations and floating in each other.

I love you too.

Reluctantly Steve pulled away from you, eyes fluttering open to look into yours and he took hold of your waist. “Run away with me,” he whispered.

Your brows pulled together, “Run away?”

“Yeah. Right now. Throw your suitcase in my car and we’ll just drive. Get away from everything, just for a little while until you’re ready.”

Mind racing, working through the logistics of what he was suggesting, you almost protested, but something in you fought back. Told you to listen to your heart, not your head. What did you want? What would make you happy?

“Okay.”

“Really?” Steve’s face lit up at your response, like he hadn’t expected it, and you felt your lips pull up into a smile, tears drying on your cheeks as you let the feeling swallow you up in its warmth. The embers in your chest crackling and flickering with life, with a fire that burned only for him.

“Yeah, yeah I don’t care. I just want to be with you,” you felt yourself grow more and more confident, more decided and Steve pulled you in again to press another kiss to your lips. This time it was hotter, bolder, a confession of passion and you grinned into him.

“C’mon, if we go now we can get coffee at that shitty diner just off the highway outside of town,” he was grinning now too.

“They make the best pancakes,” you laughed softly and Steve’s smile melted as he looked at you.

Finally.

He helped you gather your things, carrying your suitcase out to his car, and you felt like you could fly. Lighter than you’d been in years and the thought of just driving down the road with him filled you with warmth. Like watching the sun set at the end of a hot summer day. Like dipping your feet in the pool after sitting in the heat. Sweet like the taste that followed after a tart drink of lemonade.

You left your engagement ring on your dresser, a small folded note under it for Sam telling him sorry. Telling him you hoped he would find what he wanted. That you knew he’d be okay. And as you closed the door to your parents’ house you felt like you were closing that chapter. Ready to start new. To free fall into this open-ended story with Steve and as you settled into his car your eyes caught a small patch of lawn on the side of your house. Bright and soft in the moonlight and full of color.

Wildflowers.

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist

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rosewaterandivy · 1 year ago

Text

Epilogue | for once in my life

Summary: Rumor has it, that hometown hero-turned-teacher Steve Harrington is hot for teacher. The English teacher next door to him at Hawkins High, who also happens to be his childhood friend, that is.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x chaotic!dumbass reader

W.C: 5.7k

Warnings: No use of y/n - reader goes by the nickname Trouble instead, yearning, Tuscan summers, a flashback or two, a wedding, and my usual filth™️

A/N: Thanks for bearing with me while I worked on an ending for our two beloved idiots. 🥺 Truthfully, part of me put off writing the epilogue simply because I didn’t want to let Trouble and Steve go— they’re so near and dear to me! But, all good things must come to an end and I hope I’ve given them a fitting one. Thank you all for reading along and sharing your joy with me, it’s been incredible to experience! 💜💜💜

Series masterlist | Series Playlist | trouble will find me (for Trouble, most ardently) | rebel without a clue (for Steve, with love)

The distance was difficult, only mitigated by the positively unreal Tuscan summer. Though the university was in Bologna in the Emilia-Romagna region, since your classes centered on Dante, you along with a few other students, called Florence your home away from home for the summer.

The sun shone bright and hot against the ancient stones of Palazzo Medici Riccardi, and felt good against your back as you lazed in the garden and courtyard on a rare day off from combing through medieval texts in jam-packed libraries and dust motes floating through the air.

Crossing the bustling street you popped into your local gelateria only to be greeted with an exuberant, “Bella!” from Alessandro behind the counter. “Finally you grace us with your presence,” He teases, already scooping out a serving of arancia rossa sorbetto for you into a cup.

“Grazie,” You say with a smile, taking the sorbetto from his outstretched hand. “Had a slow start to the morning is all, Sandro.”

“Certo, I know how it is,” He says with a knowing wink.

To be fair, the slow start to the day was warranted, given the stress-induced dream you had last night. There you were, minding your own business, thinking about Steve and the voice note he’d left you earlier, and the next thing you know, your brain decided a trip down memory lane was warranted.

“But what do I do about the dress?” Your voice is choked, tongue stumbling over the words.

It hangs in your closet, mocking you. A pink dust bag with an elegant calligraphy card that lists your former wedding date and ex-fiancé’s last name. Robin’s fingers graze the zipper on the garment bag, fingers slowly settling along the pull.

“You could try it on?”

She says it as if she wishes she didn’t have to, as if the next time you would put on the wedding dress would be for the alteration appointment which you had already canceled, along with everything else.

Truthfully, the day you found the dress wasn’t at all what you expected it to be. Sure, you’d looked around online and at a few boutiques with Nancy, Robin, your mother, and would-be mother-in-law. Nothing struck your fancy though, each dress you slipped on had something wrong with it— too tight, too loose, too many embellishments, not enough embellishments, too heavy...

It was Steve who suggested the boutique, actually. One of his mother’s friends had a daughter who’d gotten her dress from a place in Indianapolis and said the service and selection were both top-notch. So you went and made a day trip out of it; Eddie and Steve would drop you and the girls off at the boutique and hang out in the city for the day.

Though, they really did try to weasel their way in to the appointment.

“The fact that you won’t let us join you is misandry.”

“Oh my god,” you laugh. “No, it isn’t, Eds!”

“Okay,” he relents, turning around to face you in the backseat, “Maybe not misandry, but definitely discriminatory. Dudes just wanna have fun!”

Steve laughs, pulling up in front of the boutique, waves to your mother who’s waiting on the sidewalk. “Y’never know,” he teases, “Could need a second opinion in there. Especially once they open the champagne.”

Eddie squawks at that, “You get to try on dresses and drink booze? I’m offended I’ve been left out here.”

Robin opens the backdoor with a roll of her eyes, “No boys allowed, dingus.”

You follow suit, giving Steve a small smile, “Thanks for driving us.”

His gaze softens, eyes meeting yours, “Happy to help. Now, go find a stunner in there for us, will ya?”

With a shake of your head, you bring yourself back to the moment. Sitting on the floor of your former home, moving boxes and tape littering the floor ready for you to pack up the pieces of your life. You look to Robin again, she’s unzipped the garment bag entirely revealing the bodice and skirt of the gown.

She watches you thoughtfully, “I mean, just to see if you still like it? That way we’ll know if we need to pack it or sell it.”

Sighing, you wipe your damp palms against your thighs and stand up. “Yeah,” you breathe, “Okay.”

Between the two of you, you managed to wrestle into the dress. Robin securing the delicate straps as you adjust the cups and situate yourself. The door creaks open to reveal Nancy, her eyes bright with interest.

Robin gives up with her attempts to fix the zipper and numerous buttons on the back, steps aside for Nancy to intervene.

“You’re gorgeous, babe,” Robin says, voice soft. “It looks amazing on you! Same as the day we found it.”

“It’s one hell of a dress.” Nancy agrees, the zipper pull sliding home. “No one would say no to you in that.”

Your laugh comes out as a choked thing, wet and raspy. You wipe your eyes in an effort to prevent any tears from falling. But that was the thing, wasn’t it? He didn’t even have to see the dress to know that he no longer wanted you.

“Thanks, guys.”

Feeling brave enough to look at the mirror, you pause in perusal. And sure enough, it’s a stunner. Delicate lace embellished the corseted bodice, waist nipped just enough to amplify the bust. The skirt flowed down in layers of silk and tulle, the lace accenting the frothy peaks and valleys of it.

Turning, you noticed the low-dip of the back, highlighted by the beginnings of the train. It was a gown meant for a cathedral wedding, a long aisle as you walked toward the altar. A beautiful wedding dress for a wedding that no longer was.

It was getting difficult to justify keeping it.

“Holy shit,” Eddie says, bursting into the room slack-jawed, “Your tits look great!”

Robin smacks him, “No boys allowed, dingus!”

“Yeah, Eddie, don’t you know what a closed door means?”

He grins, “I think we know by now that, no, I clearly do not.”

Hearing footsteps coming down the hall, you turn to Nancy eyes wide. “Nance, the door–”

She shuts it quickly, keeping a hand on the knob. Robin and Eddie stop their bickering long enough to share a meaningful glance. You fist the full of the skirt in both hands and motion for Robin’s help in getting the dress off.

“Uh.” Steve says, voice muffled through the closed door, “What’s going on in there?”

“Nothing!” You’re quick to respond, trying and failing to keep the panic from your voice, “Just packing up some stuff.”

“Riiiight.” He drawls, “Then do I hear Eddie in there talking about tits?”

“Hey man,” Eddie says in his own defense. “I just wandered in here, I know nothing.”

“And why is the door locked?”

Nance’s eyes go to the doorknob as it jiggles in her hand. “We’re trying to figure out what to do with the dress,” she says in a breathless rush.

If looks could kill, Nancy would have dropped to the floor. You narrow your eyes at her and turn with a huff.

“What dress— t-the wedding dress?”

“Yes, Steve.” Robin sighs. “That’s the one.”

The doorknob swivels again, “C’mon, just open the door guys. Eddie’s seen it and I am officially the only one who hasn’t.”

“No!” You shout.

Everyone stops to look at you, eyes wide.

“I mean,” you sputter indignantly, stepping out of the dress and throwing on your overly large t-shirt. “S’not a big deal, I’ll probably sell it, anyway.”

Robin and Eddie maneuver it back into the garment bag with a zip just as Nancy steps away from the door, gaze soft taking in your drawn face.

Steve stumbles in soon after to find you, pants-less, the hem on your shirt grazing your bare thighs, furiously taping boxes closed and scribbling in sharpie.

“Nothing to see here!” You say, stumbling into your bike shorts, tugging them back up. “No siree, nothing at all.”

His chest falls slightly, looking from you to the pink garment bag and back again. Robin catches the minute change in his expression before he’s picking up a box and carrying it out into the hall, not a word to be said about the dress.

And all that runs through your mind is a frantic buzz of ‘It’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her wedding dress.’ Never mind that you were no longer a bride and Steve was never your intended groom. Any rational know-how kicked from your thoughts in an echo of your hammering heart.

Why your exhausted brain conjured up that particular episode, you had no idea. The instance was promptly forgotten, the dress stored at your parent’s place, and Steve never brought it up again.

Thank God for that.

Maybe it was because of Nancy and Jonathan’s looming nuptials. He’d popped the question not long after Nance moved in, and it had been full-steam ahead since March. The ceremony was to happen at the end of summer, just as your intensive was wrapping up.

She’d nearly had a coronary when you’d expressed your doubts about being able to attend.

“I’m not getting married without you Trouble, so sweet-talk those profs into letting you sit your exams early and get the fuck back home.” She sighs down the line, “There’s only so much of moping Steve we can take— Eddie is about ready to strangle him.”

You huff a laugh, “Yeah, I’m surprised he’s held out this long.”

“Yeah, she agrees dryly, "We all know you two'll take any excuse to get Steve in a headlock.”

“I don’t need an excuse,” You scoff. “That punk needs to be put in his place.”

You’d taken up Nance on her no-nonsense advice and your professors had graciously allowed you to submit your final papers early in order to make the wedding. Unfortunately, you’d miss out on a few of the celebrations like the bridal shower, bachelorette party, and rehearsal dinner— your flight would be landing just as the festivities began— but, Nancy and Jonathan had agreed to help you surprise the gang.

For all Robin, Eddie, and Steve knew there was absolutely, positively no way you could get out of your scheduled final exams. It sucked, as Robin rightfully pointed out, that you’d have to miss your best friend’s wedding but they all understood.

Steve was more hangdog about it than ever.

“Thanks Sandro,” You call out, plastic spoon in your mouth as you quickly step out the door, leaving a €5 note on the counter before he could stop you with a, “Your money is no good here, bella!”

Your phone buzzes in your bag, ducking under an awning your scramble through your well-worn tote bag to find it, throwing your sunglasses on in the process.

“Hey Fratty light,” You greet with a smile, spooning another cool helping of blood orange flavored ice into your mouth. “Do any good keg stands lately?”

Steve’s laugh nearly eclipses the warmth of the sun on your skin, a surge of heat building low in your stomach.

“At least I didn’t fall off the keg.”

“That was one time!” You scoff, jogging across the street before an aggressive Vespa can mow you down. Pulling the phone away from your mouth, you give the driver the ombrello gesture and shout, “Vaffanculo!”

He chuckles at your outburst, “Tell ‘em babe!”

“I’ll have you know, I stuck that landing Harrington and, it was quite the crowd-pleaser if I recall.”

“Sure Trouble,” You can nearly hear the eye roll at your expense, “It was the landing and not the fact that you were wearing those panties.”

The fact that he remembered the pair in question has you reeling, you nearly run into a fellow pedestrian in your dazed state.

“Anyway,” You say, cleaning your throat. “What’s on the sad boy agenda for today? Getting into divorced dad rock, any Matchbox-20 or Creed in your future?”

“God, you’re awful, and no, thanks very much.”

You hear a door slam and a car engine turn over. Someone muttering about Steve’s ‘utter lack of taste’ in music— Eddie, without a doubt.

He sighs down the line, pulling on your heartstrings because you miss them all so damn much, but Steve most of all.

“Just helping with some wedding stuff.” His voice is softer, sadder knowing you won’t be there to celebrate with them. “Boring shit, you know.”

You hum in agreement, “Well I’ll let you get to it. Don’t let Eddie flirt with too many bridesmaids!”

“You got it, chief,” Steve says, “Take care of yourself babe.”

“You too, big boy.” A huff of laughter at hearing his scoff, “Byyyeeee.”

And maybe it happens like Nance said it would, things just fall into place when they’re meant to.

After a flight from hell— a toddler would not, for love or money, stop kicking the back of your seat on the evening flight from Milan to Berlin, and you were stuck in the backmost row from Berlin to Indianapolis on the red-eye. It was a miracle you rolled up to your parents' house in one piece. You’d arrive at the venue to get ready with the rest of the bridal party where you’d hopefully be able to keep Robin sworn to secrecy.

You weren’t above putting her into a headlock, if it came down to it.

Dress, shoes, and make-up bag hastily thrown in your mom’s car, you drove to the venue just outside of Hawkins. A lovely little outdoor property owned by a local family, groves of trees and the finest collection of wildflowers you’d ever seen— fitting for Nancy and Jonathan.

You arrive in a slightly mussed frenzy, arms weighed down with your bridesmaid dress and a weekend bag that did fuck-all to protect you from the sudden onslaught of summer rain. Cursing the permeability of Indiana summers, you walk swiftly toward the bridal cottage.

The squelch of your shoes and drops of rain accompany you across the tiled path. Breathe. A steady inhale pulls the comforting scent of petrichor to your lungs, tucked safely behind the cage of your ribs. A shift in the light, a cloud makes way for the sun to shine once more; you scramble for the club masters perched on your head, impossibly tangled (of course) in a damp nest of hair.

Pried free, you rest the glasses against your nose bridge and stroll to the door. Before you can wrestle a hand free to knock, the door swings open to reveal a tipsy Vickie and bemused Nancy. A smirk settles on your lips as the two shuffle you into the cottage, tutting at the state of your hair and general tardiness.

“It is a wedding y’know,” Vickie teases grabbing the canvas bag from you. “Could make an effort to be on time.” She drops a wink your way before absconding toward the vanity table to deliver your belongings elsewhere.

Nancy huffs and rolls her eyes, taking the dresses from your arm. “Ignore her,” she soothes, “Seems the title of temporary co-M.O.H. has gone straight to her head.” She shoves a flute of champagne into your empty hand and leads you inside. “But you’re here, so the title can rightfully fall to you.”

“And how is the blushing bride?” You smile, taking in her cool, calm demeanor.

She’s notoriously hard to ruffle, so you’re not surprised to find Nancy the same as ever, albeit a tad buzzed from the champagne.

“Fuck a duck!” Robin shouts, colliding with part of the doorway as she takes the corner to quickly in her haste to get to you, having heard your voice from down the hall. She trips falling into you in a quasi-hug that’s mostly all elbows jabbed into your ribs.

“Walk with dignity, you overgrown toddler,” You laugh sipping some champagne, wrapping your arm around her in a proper hug. She buries her face into your neck with a smile. “And before you even ask, no you cannot, under any circumstance, tell your emotional support Steve about this.”

You feel her frown before she pulls back from you, “I can keep a secret y’know.”

“I don’t doubt it Bucks, just wanna surprise him is all.”

“He has no idea? Oh shit, this is gonna be good.” She says with a cackle before trotting off to help Vickie with her dress.

“Alright Wheels,” You announce polishing off your flute of champagne, “Let me at it, where’s the hairspray?”

After furious coating of L’Oreal’s finest to her hair after you’d secured a few flowers in place, you cough in a haze of hairspray and sagely advise, “That’s good for three slow dances, two fast ones, and one Lambada…” You warn, capping the canister to set it aside. “But if you wanna mosh, I’d suggest another coat.”

Nancy laughs at the suggestion, “I think we’re good.” She checks your handiwork in the mirror with a smile, “Can I ask you something Trouble?”

“Shoot.”

She turns to face you and lowers her voice to a whisper while the other bridesmaids are busy with false eyelashes and zipping up dresses. “Have you given any thought to what I said back in May?”

Ah, that conversation. The one where she (lovingly) warned you off of Steve if you weren’t certain about your feelings for him. Your big, overwhelming feelings. As if you could forget them, even thousands of miles away.

“You know,” You begin, voice pitched to meet hers, “I had a bit of time to think over the summer, no distractions, just me and the Tuscan sun.”

She stands to slip into her dress and you follow to assist— it’s a beautiful number, all minimal sleek lines and fitted to her like a glove. Nancy is gorgeous, but Nancy on her wedding day is otherworldly. She dutifully turns for you to button up the back and arrange the train for photos.

“And?”

Your eyes meet in the mirror, hers curious but not prying, yours wide, reeling from it all— the pro/con lists, numerous conversations with your mom, Eddie, and Nance, the letters, emails, voice notes, calls and texts from Steve. Somehow, some way they all amounted to this:

“You remember my twenty-first birthday?”

“How could I forget,” She chuckles knowingly, “Spin the bottle, right?”

A nod, you busy yourself smoothing out the few lines in the silhouette of the dress. “And a bit of liquid courage.”

There is no good reason why the eight of you should be doing this. Back at the loft after a night of carousing and bar-hopping, imbibed enough complimentary birthday drinks that spin the bottle seemed like a good idea. Even if the bottle in question is some ridiculously expensive high-roller shit swiped from Mr. Harrington’s study.

You’re warm, leaning on Eddie’s shoulder and whispering in his ear— goading him about kissing someone. Steve hopes it’s not you.

The glass mouth of the bottle spins to a stop in front of Jonathan who groans loudly before clambering over the whoops and hollers.

“Lay it on ‘im Munson!”

You tip backwards and shriek in glee when their lips touch. Eddie returns to your side with a roll of his eyes, pokes your knee with his finger. “Pucker up, buttercup. You’re next.”

Argyle cracks his knuckles, taps his chin thoughtfully, “Alright chica.” He says, “Hope you get Nance or Vic. Make it nice and steamy up in here.”

Steve hopes it’s him and not Nancy, selfishly. The rest of them be damned, if the bottle lands on him he’s going to frog-leap over Eddie, shove him to the side and kiss you good. If it lands on anyone else, he may get arrested for murder tonight.

There’s really no excuse for it— the longing. Best friends since childhood who drifted apart because, as always, he was a dumbass. Kissed you all of one time after the Homecoming dance freshman year and that was barely a peck.

The bottle lands on Vickie.

Slightly tipsy and putting on a show, you bite your bottom lip and lean in, slanting your mouth over hers with a soft sigh. The sound sinks into Steve’s gut and he groans in agony�� jealous you’d rather kiss his ex or the redhead rather than him. Nevermind that the bottle was nowhere near landing on him.

“Keep it PG, ladies!” Robin calls, “This is taking way too long!”

“Bucks, shut up. I’m trying to take a video.” Nancy slaps the phone from Eddie’s hand.

Having had enough of it all, Steve stands. “Not that this isn’t how I want to spend my night…” he mumbles, hands patting his thighs. “But I’m peacing out.”

You look up, distracted, and bottom lip a little wet from Vickie, eyes hazy from the long night of celebrating, and quirk your head. “You leavin’, Stevie? Wan’ me to walk you?”

“What— like he’s gonna get lost from here to his room?”

Steve is going to get arrested tonight for murdering Eddie. Tries to keep his cool, regardless.

“S’okay birthday girl, I’ll be fine. You have fun.”

You hop up anyway, a bit blundering in your step, and grab his hand to yank him forward. “C’mon… I gotcha.” Fortified with liquor, you tug him along, turning a corner and chattering about how as much as you appreciate that expensive whiskey, you’d rather have a beer. There’s nothing better than some pretzels, beer, and a movie.

“Oh, uh, s-sorry.” Your hand loosens before you pull it away, self-consciously.

“For what?”

“I know we haven’t been, like, close for a while now. I didn’t mean to grab you like that.”

Oh. The realization dawns on him now, like a crash of lightning— you think he’s guarded… but he’s only been reserved for your sake.

He calls your name, followed by a murmured, “C’mere for a second.”

You lean against his bedroom door, dazed but curious. Steve steps forward until you’re nearly chest to chest, back against the wood. Your mouth opens with a nearly inaudible gasp, but he can see your pulse kick up in your throat. “Yeah?”

"You remember our first kiss?" He waits for you to nod before continuing. "I think I owe you a do-over."

Confusion flits across your face, a solitary brow quirked up in interest. "You wanna mulligan my first kiss, like... seven years after the fact?"

He ducks his chin in embarrassment, skin flushing with heat. "Yeah, I mean, if you're open to it?" He scratches the back of his neck and mumbles, "I just think you deserve better."

You bite your lip in thought, and Steve wants nothing more than to shrivel up and die— but then, you nod, and before he can think better of it, he takes his chance.

Purposefully, Steve tilts your face up fingers, trailing along your chin and jaw, thumbing the full of your bottom lip. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears, all whooshes and erratic beats, almost enough to drown out the words that fall from his lips.

And then, the perfect genius that is Steve Harrington leans down to close the distance between you. Satisfied that your face is tilted just so, his hand sweeps back your hair to cradle your head as his lips descend to yours.

He kisses you like he’s got all the time in world— like it isn’t past three in the morning and you’re about a minute from slipping under. He kisses lazy, slow, and sublime. Presses you closer to him, an arm winding around your waist to pull you from the wall. More, kissing—tongues and lips and teeth— more of that touch you’ve only dreamed about and you want to kick yourself for missing it, for even daring to fantasize when the real thing is so much more.

Your palms are on his chest, pawing at him for leverage, struggling to refrain from bucking your hips up into him like you so desperately want to do. Steve pulls back with a contented sigh, and you’re surprised there isn’t a string of saliva strung between the pair of your for all the swapping spit that just occurred. There’s nothing but you and him. His gaze, so tentative and sweet, meets yours briefly as he stands back hands shoved quickly into his pockets.

“I meant something like that.”

Your mouth tugs at a corner, as if you could laugh or cry. Or smile.

Steve lets out a breathy chuckle, brandishes a small, hopeful smile, and runs a hand through his hair.

You nod. And it’s enough.

“I–I think I’ve known for a while.” You admit sheepishly, looking for any last-minute adjustments that need to be made before the precessional. One hand grasping her train, you follow Nancy toward the door. Taking a shaky breath in, you say, "Guess some part of me has been in love with him since I fell off the fence and into his backyard that first summer."

She stops short and turns back to you elated because she knows the story all too well. Steve doesn't get drunk enough to talk about it often–- the man has a wooden leg, hand to god. But once in a blue moon, it'll happen: how the new neighbor's daughter nearly busted her ass sneaking back home way after her curfew, too buzzed on shitty wine coolers and reeking of weed to realize that she'd fallen on the wrong side of the fence.

Hastily, Robin thrusts a bouquet of flowers into Nancy’s hand. Just before the band starts up, Nancy gives your hand a squeeze and advises, “Sometimes what’s meant for you comes back, Trouble. Don’t let it slip by, okay?”

Steve is just looking to survive the day, he’ll be grateful to get through, honestly.

He was beyond bummed you couldn’t be there for Nance’s wedding and that he’d be sitting with her cousin instead— she’d talked his ear off during the rehearsal dinner last night about her current rewatch of Sex and The City. He’d never been so relieved to be pulled into bridal party duties by Eddie than he was that night.

And, to top it off, you weren’t answering your phone. Logically, he knew you’d be in exams for most of the day but you normally sent him a text or voice note once you woke up or before you made it to class for the day.

He’s pathetic. Eddie forced him to leave his phone in the groom’s suite and now he feels phantom vibrations from something that isn’t even in his pocket. Heaving a sigh, he lines up ready to escort Vickie and mentally preparing himself for a detailed recounting of the havoc that Samantha’s absence has caused the SATC franchise from the Wheeler cousin.

“You know,” A lazy, familiar voice drawls to his right, “If I was a riptide, I wouldn’t take you out.” An arm loops through his, comfortable and intimate.

But no— it couldn’t possibly be…

“Hey, Harrington.” You say, quietly, knocking your hips to his, casually holding a bouquet in your hand, all easy smiles and warm touches. When Steve finally does turn, he blinks a few times to confirm that you're not some hallucination.

Because you’re here, impossibly, you’re home, and everything is finally right in the world.

You reach over to straighten his tie, the alexandrite ring gleaming on your right hand and catching the light.

“How did you—” He stammers, bereft of language.

But then there’s that smirk he adores. “Some of us are stealthy, y’know. Like a ninja.”

“Oh, fuck me right in the mouth.” He laughs loud and bright, a few people turn back in their chairs to look.

You sputter briefly as the precessional begins, hand lighting on his arm with a gentle squeeze. “Uh, that can certainly be arranged, Harrington.”

In that moment he knew, with a certain sense of finality, that he had no choice but to love you; all his love and, if he’s being honest, fear, reflected there in your eyes.

The ceremony is beautiful, of course, and the reception is now in full swing. The new Mr. and Mrs. Byers shared an adorable first dance to “At Last” by Ella Fitzgerald, which nearly had you tearing up before Steve twirled you out onto the dancefloor.

“Hey, good lookin’,” He says with a smile so sweet, it almost makes you weak in the knees.

It’s a slow song, something to get the couples up and out of their seats. Over his shoulder you spy Robin and Vickie making goony eyes at eachother while Eddie and Argyle stumble around both trying to lead the other— idiots.

“Hi, Steve.” You reply, eyes making their way back to him. “Y’know, they say you should never trust a man who can dance.”

“And why’s that, honey?”

You shrug, “Dunno. Apparently they’re all heartbreakers or something.”

Steve, thanks to his mother’s needling and his father’s need to keep up appearances, could dance. He’d escorted many a debutante, including yourself, during Cotillion. You can still hear Savannah’s nasally “Did you know that five out of six debs marry their escorts?”

But, then again, she was also drinking from the fun flask at the ripe age of sixteen. So, do with that what you will.

He spins you easily, like it’s nothing, and before you know it you’re back in his arms. His brow is furrowed in thought, but what he could possibly be thinking you hadn’t a clue. So you continue to follow his lead across the dance floor and silently thank Mrs. Harrington for forcing you and Steve into those dance classes way back when, even if he stepped on your toes and you retaliated with an accidental elbow to his ribs— knock-kneed teens the pair of you.

So much has changed since then.

The music pauses, as someone announces that the bride will toss the bouquet. You go to find the bar, but Steve promises he’ll come back with a drink for you instead and then Eddie is hustling you toward the crowd of “single ladies.”

“Eds, no.” You attempt to swat him away, but he’s having none of it.

“Far as I know, you and Harrington are fuck buddies. No declarations,” His eyes fall to your left hand, “No ring. Beyoncé would insist, sugar.”

You’ve always had a sixth sense about things. When you were younger, your family and friends often thought it was an ability— but in truth, it’s just a mixture of careful perception, logical thinking, and educated guessing.

But not even your sixth sense could explain how you’d ended up catching the bouquet. Especially with a vodka and tonic in one hand and standing at the rear of the gaggle of gals gathered for the event. Didn’t even want to take part, far more interested in finding the coat check room and seeing how long it would take Steve to blow his load once you finally got your mouth on him.

So it’s a surprise, either luck or Nance’s killer aim, when her bouquet lands in your hand, the ribbon wrapped stems falling neatly into your palm just as you turn to shout something at Eddie behind you. Catching Steve’s knowing smirk and hearing Eddie’s piercing wolf-whistle, you give him an exaggerated wink before tossing back your drink.

It’s not long after that, a few more spins around the dance floor, some cake, and more liquor, tasteful toasts from you and Argyle, fond farewells to the newlyweds and bags thrown into cars for a quick getaway, that Steve tosses you— bouquet in hand, over his shoulder and dips out of there. Ignoring Eddie’s teasing of Irish exits and Irish twins, he sets you on your feet again to lean you against the car and kisses you positively stupid.

But it’s not a surprise when Steve finally asks you the question he’s been dying to for nearly the entire summer on the drive home, Nancy’s bouquet resting against the dash as you toe off your heels.

“Hey mind-reader, how long did it take?”

“Hmm?” Pleasantly sleepy from jet lag, your mind struggles to spark a fuse of comprehension. Steve raises a solitary brow in interest.

"Whaddya mean?" You mumble out between stifled yawns.

His hand rests on your leg while he drives, big and warm, his fingers fiddling with the fabric of your dress. Steve, bless him, won't press you on it, but he also wouldn't have asked something so casually for no reason. He's crafty like a fox when he wants to be.

You take a breath and let yourself really think about it. If you’re taking the question seriously, which you damn well should, he deserves an explanation. Hesitantly, you remind Steve of the near fiasco with the wedding dress back at your old place. He nods at your rambling, how guilty and scared you felt at shutting him out.

“So, yeah, between the moving-in playlist and me being bat-shit terrified of you seeing me in a wedding dress,” You summarize, fingers finding their way to his once more. The warm glow of the streetlights cast shafts of light through the windows. “You’re about as subtle as a brick through a window, Steve Harrington," You conclude with a smirk.

His eyes widen in realization, “Oh, so that’s what you were apologizing for before left for Joshua Tree.” An annoyed sigh before a sharp inhale takes its place. “You’re so stupid.”

Back at the loft, fumbling hands in elevators lips spit slick and ruddied, Steve bats away your grabby hands with an exasperated huff as they light upon his chest. Nearly dropping his keys when they find a better way to occupy themselves.

Once inside, he presses his face into your neck, kissing hungrily, anywhere he can, down to your collarbones and chest and then he’s lifting you up by the thighs, kicking the door close, and instinctively pulling everything off.

He peels his shirt off and throws it onto the floor while you shimmy out of your dress. His mouth hasn’t left yours for anything other than to breathe.

His hands stop at the curve of your hips. The room is spinning— the entire world moving too fast in a feverish haze. Years of close-quartered friendship and the first intimate touches in months have jumped right into the deep end. You don’t even know when the two of you made way back into his room, but the door clicks shut with a kick from his foot.

“Hey, mind-reader, I got two questions for you,” Steve calls teasingly. “First, how big did you think I was, y'know before? When you accused me of, how did you put it... harboring a fugitive?”

Your brain briefly short-circuits at that, mildly embarrassed. He laughs at your slow, owlish blinks while you formulate a response other than, "Well, I, uh..."

"Okay, okay," He drops a kiss to your brow, soothing your worries away, “Second…”

You gulp. Your legs feel like jelly— all the smart words in the entire world wiped completely from existence. The pause he takes is punishingly long and the grin he gives you nearly makes you faint.

His pants are shucked somewhere near the bedroom door. One of your hands goes into his hair, other guiding him between your legs where you smear all over his fingers.

"S'been a while, do you think you can take it?”

“Oh,” A smirk quirks your lips, hand scrabbling for purchase on his tanned skin, “I think you know I can.”

Later, after frenzied forays in tangled sheets and revelling in the afterglow, you place your hand over his chest, selfishly counting his heartbeats.

You breathe, soft and sweet, “Steve,” the sound of your voice a warm balm in the inky dark. “Steve,” You say again and kiss his neck, turning toward you on the rumpled bed he kisses you, as if he could ever get enough.

“I love you.”

He pulls back, just enough so that you wrap your leg around his hips, sheet slipping off as his fingers trail up your thigh. Grazing the tip of his nose ever so lightly against your temple, you feel the rumble of laughter through his chest as it heaves against yours.

Rolls you onto your back, legs falling open to cradle his hips while he holds himself above you, hair falling into his face, “Took you long enough,” he grins, kissing you again. Your cheeks, your jaw, your chin. “I love you too, honey.”

His love is heavy and you delight in the gravity of it as he slips his way back inside, your hands pulling him closer than anyone can ever or will ever get again. It feels fated— the way your body moves and his responds in kind.

Steve only keens your name in reply.

Spun clear out of your body in the haze, pure joy erupts from your mouth, hands scrambling for him, so woozy and giddy you can’t help it.

So this is love, after all.

Finis.

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fan fiction #stranger things fan fiction #modern!steve #teacher!steve #the kids aren't alright - rosewateverandivy #Spotify

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testostertunes · 6 months ago

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Emily Robb Summer Tour starts today!! Today in Brooklyn w/ Rosali and then a bunch of nights w/ Kurt Vile & his Violators...

Emily has a string of gigs coming up, and she'll be joined by yours truly on stage with a little organ. Please come out and have a blast and say hello to us. As we get further from Philadelphia, we would especially love to meet anybody willing to let the two of us sleep at their place after the show. Email [email protected] if so inclined.

Either way- don't be shy come say what's up!

Emily Robb Live Dates Summer 2024

Sun 6/16 Brooklyn, NY @ Union Pool w/ Rosali Mon 6/17 Harrisburg, PA @ HMAC * Tue 6/18 Wilmington, DE @ The Queen * Thu 6/20 Atlantic City, NJ North to Shore Festival @ Anchor Rock Club * Sat 6/22 Charlotte, NC Neighborhood Theatre * Sun 6/23 Cincinnati, OH @ Taft Theatre * Mon 6/24 Indianapolis, IN @ State Street Pub w/ Kind Buds Tue 6/25 Evanston, IL @ SPACE * Wed 6/26 St. Louis, MO @ The Pageant * Thu 6/27 Kalamazoo, MI @ Bells * Fri 6/28 Detroit, MI @ Spread Art w/ Deadbeat Beat, Shells Sun 6/30 Norwalk, CT @ District Music Hall *

Tues 7/23 Montreal, QC @ Sotteranea w/ Mountain Movers, Feeling Figures Wed 7/24 Prince Edward County, ON @ Glenwood Cemetery w/ Mountain Movers, Stonegrass, Craig Currie, Paul Lowman Thurs 7/25 Toronto, ON @ Monarch Tavern w/ Mountain Movers Fri 7/26 Rochester, NY Carbon 30YR Fest @ Radio Social Sun 7/28 Williamstown, MA @ Clark Art Institute w/ Glenn Jones Fri 8/2 Philadelphia, PA @ Century Bar w/ Nod, Mike Polizze (of Purrling Hiss/Birds of Maya) Mon 9/23 Philadelphia, PA @ Johnny Brenda’s w/ Mystic 100’s

* w/ Kurt Vile and the Violators

And other upcoming Petty Bunco shows… July 5 - Mordecai, The Spatulas, Overt Hostility @ Jerry’s On Front Aug 2 - Nod, Emily Robb, Mike Polizze @ Century Bar

We'll have copies of the newly landed "If I Am Misery Then Give Me Affection" repress at the merch table. See ya there!

polaroid by Kurt Vile

#emily robb #petty bunco #Kurt vile #rosali

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discodeviant · 2 years ago

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One Swing, Just One Thing

Jonathan/Argyle | Teen | 3k No Upside Down, Light Angst

My take on the Cali move in the little Disco-verse I have in my head lol, please enjoy <3 <3

Read on AO3

There were a devastating number of things that Jonathan hated about Hawkins, not limited to its inseparable school boards and suffocating, tight-knit groups. The summers were disappointing at best, and still fucking cold at worst; winters bit at his nose and fingertips so harshly that he thought they’d fall right off. Hawkins was the town that molded his father into the crass, neglectful man that he was, and even he was scared off some years ago. On a whim, maybe, but Jonathan always suspected that he’d never loved their family in the first place. Joyce was too forgiving; Will was too young to know better than to think Lonnie’s disappearance was personal. Not that he went very far—only fifty minutes to Indianapolis—but it felt like he was across the ocean in a different world entirely. Jonathan hated that Hawkins had been breaking his mother to pieces ever since.

The time between then and now was a long, dull three years of absolutely nothing with some excitement sprinkled on top like glitter. Lonnie broke the divorce contract and took Will into the city for a week in eighty-two, which rendered the already-quiet kid fully mute for two months. In eighty-three, Jonathan won a fight against Steve Harrington in a back alley somewhere, which he still thought may have been a fever dream. Every punch and bruise left behind led to Nancy Wheeler leaving Steve for Jonathan in eighty-four and loving him until the summer of eighty-five, when college applications rolled around and pried them apart.

Somewhere in between, Joyce married Jim Hopper, whose daughter could move twenty times her weight with her mind, but those were details Jonathan didn’t like to think about.

California was on the horizon by July, and the five of them were driving into Lenora Hills in early August. Hopper said it wasn’t dirty money when it came from the source, but Jonathan was still wary of the whole thing. Hawkins was terrible, but it was home for eighteen years. It was familiar. It was where he taught Will how to ride a bike, and where he took his mother’s new wedding photos during the not-ceremony they held in front of Castle Byers. Just Will’s friends and their parents, Steve and Nancy somehow, and that was all they needed. Hawkins was every waking moment of Jonathan’s life, gone in a flash—it felt that way when he started school again.

Hawkins wasn’t creative with name-calling either. Freak was thrown around for both Byers boys, and another kid in some of Jonathan’s classes. Fuck up when the tapes he had for a middle school play were sabotaged and left for him to take the blame. Fairy caught on after Harrington called him a queer in front of Tommy Hagan (that was before Jonathan kicked his ass), and it hit a little too deep, that one. Lonnie used to say that about Will when he was around. Freak and fag and fairy and good-for-nothing fruit—F-words haunted him.

In California, though, Jonathan was little more than a ghost, and he was happy to keep it that way. He didn’t draw attention to himself or talk to anyone outside of class, and even then he stuck to his desk mates, but he was a good kid. Kind, soft-spoken like his brother, always carrying that damn camera with him so he didn’t miss anything. Californian kids weren’t as cruel as those from small-town Indiana, but they still stared. If they whispered, it was out of range. He could deal with that.

Shop class was what really threw him for a loop.

Back home, he realized that there were two types of guys who took shop: those who were interested in trade and chose to be there, and those who were put into it because they weren’t that great at anything else. Jonathan was in the former group since hands-on work was easier for him to get a handle on, and he never dreamt of going to some fancy university with top-dog academics. That was Nancy’s dream. His was simple and steady like a saw cutting through slabs of pine and the hinges holding them together. His was the freedom of choosing what wood stain to use between burned lines in the surface of a three-panel table. His was photography, in truth, but carpentry was a good fallback.

Jonathan wasn’t sure what to make of his project partner. Which kind of guy Argyle was, he really couldn’t say. On the one hand, he had a fantastic eye for measurements and made perfect cuts nearly every time, and his eyes lit up when their teacher complimented his work. He was fast too, never wasting a moment in between getting instructions and following them. On the other hand, he spoke like he was deep in outer space, and maybe he was. Argyle epitomized the doped-out beach boy with the attention span of a fruit fly in most other classes, from what Jonathan could tell. Maybe that was why he glanced in Argyle’s direction whenever he could, just for a split second of those long, long locks or proof that it was all an act. Not that he would understand why, but Argyle was a distant interest until they were told to work on a porch swing together, and he was suddenly much closer.

“Hey, so, uh… how big are we gonna make this thing?” Jonathan asked as Argyle fiddled with his pencil eraser. They sat at a table in the back, bags and papers splayed out alongside a few wooden beams that they reserved in advance. “Like… one, two people?”

Argyle looked up and nodded in thought. “Two’s cool. Or… I guess we could make it for one really big person. Or three small people.” His words sounded like they came from the long distance his eyes stared off into. Through Jonathan somehow, if that was even possible. It made him a little wary.

“Yeah, sure.”

Jonathan gazed around the room to fill the silence with something else. Other students’ chatter and sawing, hammers swinging already, a buzzsaw that went off for a few seconds. Between the boys, it was agonizing, and they mostly worked through gestures and mumbled project plans.

Throughout the week, they eased into a better conversation flow. They passed along hellos through glances in other classes, then said their heys when they made it to shop. Jonathan found himself lingering on those smiles until the next came along, and then he added that one to his mental collection. A portfolio, of sorts, of the times those smiles were accompanied by a wave or enthusiastic nod. All the while, their swing was making progress, and Argyle proved his skillful hand so much that he did most of the hard parts himself. Jonathan had fun watching.

After that weekend, they decided that Jonathan would be in charge of its more intricate designs, which he was happy to focus on. Drawing out ideas in pencil on the wood, taking Argyle’s sketches into account. And like he watched Argyle, Argyle watched him right back with intense focus. Whether the whites of his eyes were red or not, he was meticulous when filling in the lines with Gunsmoke—an orange stain they used around the edges. Once all was said and done, the swing was sanded and lathered in wax coating, and they were the first pair to finish.

“That’s one bangin’ bench, if I do say so myself.” Argyle stood with both hands on his hips, licking at his teeth as he ogled their final project. “Good work, my man.” The clap on Jonathan’s back startled him a little.

“You too, you too.”

“Hey, do you think you could help me get it out to my car later?”

“You’re taking it?”

“Yeah, man, Teach said I could. I got sisters, they’re gonna love this thing. We used to have one, but it was all grody and, like, just fell apart one day, so. Set it up there, I guess. You can come by if you want.”

“I—I don’t know—I gotta work on my paper.” Jonathan only noticed his palms were sweaty when he rubbed them down his thighs and stained the denim.

“Do it at mine, man. It’s quiet when the girls are doin’ their thing, and we can get free pizza.”

“Free pizza?” Jonathan asked, but Argyle just gave him a look that hooked and reeled like he didn’t give the line any trouble at all. “What the hell, why not.”

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” Argyle clapped his hands together and rubbed them so fast that an ember should have sparked and burned the place down, but maybe that was Jonathan’s nerves thinking too quickly. Before he knew it, Argyle was packing his things and walking out backwards with a pair of finger-guns pointed at him. “You and me, Byers!”

The bell rang soon after.

“A pizza van?”

“Yeah, man! Life’s way easier when I can just throw shit in the back. Plus, my manager says it’s good advertising, and I’m inclined to agree. Come on, let’s get her in there.”

They’d waited for the school crowd to pile out before carrying the swing to the end of the parking lot, where Jonathan’s earlier question was answered. With the van’s boot open, they hoisted the swing up and into the back with little struggle—which was mostly Argyle’s doing—and walked to sit up front together after closing it.

“What toppings do you like?” Argyle asked as he backed out.

“Uh… anything I guess. I’m not picky.”

“Pineapple?”

Jonathan grimaced. “Never had it.”

“Try before you deny, my friend.”

And, well, Jonathan couldn’t argue with that for a number of reasons.

Pizza first, home second—that was their order of operations, though they decided to take the food to-go instead of sitting in a loud parlor teeming with children. Jonathan paid for a sub in case he hated the pizza, which Argyle laughed at him for. Not maliciously; Jonathan was pretty sure he didn’t have a cruel bone in his body. He was too carefree for that, too laid back, too genuine. So far, anyway, and Jonathan knew he needed a friend like him even if it was too soon to say they were friends just yet. Unless it wasn’t. He didn’t know.

Friends had come and gone, and stayed gone more often than not. Will and his mom were the only two constants for so long. His middle and high school friends were temporary, Nancy was temporary, Hopper and El might have been temporary for all he knew by that point. But that was Hawkins, where he’d been a freak for sitting in the cafeteria corner even when he got there first. That was Hawkins High, where people still talked about his brother like he’d died and come back to life even though he was only gone for a week. Those people weren’t supposed to be friends to begin with, and Jonathan didn’t try to make them friends.

But this was Lenora Hills, sitting in Argyle’s pizza van that may not have been his at all, and he was so California—so unlike Indiana—that Jonathan couldn’t help smiling.

As they pulled up to the house, he asked, “Did you grow up here?”

“Born and raised, man.” Argyle said so with pride that Jonathan could only dream of. “Closer to San Jose, actually, but it’s the same shit everywhere.” He laughed, and they stepped out. “Where’d you get swept up from? Not the city.” Boot open; Argyle pulled the swing out for Jonathan to catch the end.

“No, no,” he said. “Hawkins. It was sorta close to the city, but far-fucking-from it in every other way.”

“Where’s that, Utah?” Argyle held the other end, and they walked up the grass to where a couple of A-frames were set up with a beam joining the vertices.

Jonathan chuckled. “Indiana.”

“Oh, shit, you’re like… from way-fuckin’-out there, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess. Not that exciting. At least I’ve heard of San Jose.”

“Not missing out there either, dude, but, I don’t know, maybe I was just used to it.” They set the swing down. “Green grass or some crap, whatever shit they talk about. Anyway, lemme close the van, then, uh… we’ll go in and eat. Or we can eat out here, whatever.”

Jonathan shrugged and said, “Doesn’t matter to me. I’ll grab your bag for you.” Argyle didn’t protest and brought in the pizza while Jonathan had one bag slung over each shoulder. That said, Argyle’s was more of a sack, but it fit everything he needed.

“I gotta get a new one soon,” he said as they walked into the warmth of a well-lived-in home. Something about it reminded Jonathan of the house in Hawkins. Small but cozy and littered with half-filled coloring pages, toys on the floor, a bottle of glitter tipped over on a shelf. It smelled like honey and spice wrapped into a billowing fire, but that was in the walls and rugs on the floor. That was Argyle.

A TV sat on the coffee table in the living room, which merged with the kitchen so Argyle could turn it on while he got a couple of plates out. “Take a seat, man, my couch is your couch. And, lucky for us, it seems we’ve got the house to ourselves for another couple hours at least, so no noisy children to deal with.”

“Where is everybody?”

“Uh… today’s Friday?” Jonathan nodded. “Dad’s workin’ late, so they’re with abuela for the night. She’s up, uh—near that lake up there.”

“That’s cool.”

“Anyway…” Argyle carried the pizza box to the couch with a plate on top for each of them. Jonathan had already put their drinks on the table. “Bon appétit, my dude,” he said, holding up his slice of Hawaiian, an invitation for a toast. Jonathan met it with his own and sunk his teeth in, expecting the worst, but he was pleasantly surprised. “See?”

They both said in unison, “Try before you deny.”

“Jesus, that’s fucking good.”

“Thank those Hawaiians, man.”

“Ugh—thank you, Hawaiians—mm…”

A short while after letting their food settle, the guys went back outside to set up the swing before it got too dark. Argyle had some chains that he hooked through the arms and base before hanging it with Jonathan’s help. He didn’t do much, but it was enough to earn a high-five anyway, so he took it in stride. When they were done, they sat on it together, both just fitting so their knees touched, but it was comfortable. Jonathan was comfortable.

“You know, I’m not gonna lie to you, man, this thing could use some throw pillows,” Argyle said.

“You got any?”

“Yeaaaah, but I don’t feel like going back inside yet, so. Later.” Jonathan ate from a bag of gummy worms. “You smoke?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes. You go ahead, I don’t mind. My parents are both chimneys.”

So Argyle fished around in his pocket and pulled out a smoke that was a little worse for wear, from what Jonathan could tell, but it had probably been in there all day. “You got this stuff back home, country boy?” Jonathan looked more closely at it and suddenly understood.

“Oh.”

Argyle laughed. “Is that a no?”

“No, no, I mean, we do, just… only had it a couple times. Plus, like, my mom married a cop. Literally the chief.”

“No shit! Oh, dude, you’re missing out big time.”

“I don’t know, it wasn’t that good.”

“Byers, my man… this is the real shit. Good shit. Purple Palm Tree Delight. Well worth the pennies.”

“Purple Palm Tree Delight.”

“Yessiree.” A lighter was next. Argyle flipped it open and lit the joint between his lips, Jonathan watching with a sudden draw to the smoke leaving his mouth. “You’ll like it.”

Jonathan hesitated for a moment before taking it from between Argyle’s fingers, strong and dirty from the swing work but still so tempting to touch. “One drag,” he said. It occurred to him briefly, when he put it in his mouth and took a shallow huff, that he might have been called a fairy for this too if he were back in middle school.

Side-by-side, closer to a guy than either seemed to realize as he held his lips around something that another man’s lips had already touched. Maybe Jonathan was being childish to think that they’d just kissed. Lips to joint to lips again, his one puff turned into two, then three, then an equal share as he and Argyle passed it between each other. Argyle’s lips were red by the time it was down to a nub of embers that he snuffed with dirty fingertips and dropped into the grass.

Maybe it was naive to be glad that he was in California, sitting on a swing in his new friend’s backyard—who, yes, now, Jonathan could be sure was his friend. He knew this never could have happened in Hawkins. Not the peaceful silence as the final few minutes of sunlight disappeared, not the violet-tinted delight rolling through his arms and legs and brain. Certainly not a kiss, though he wasn’t sure that would happen in California either.

Maybe it could someday, he thought. Then he wouldn’t have to pretend that indirect contact through a joint was enough. He wouldn’t have to imagine or make believe. He could just turn his head, look into Argyle’s glowing eyes in the dark, and lean in with herbal confidence to back him up.

And they’d swing.

And they’d touch.

And even now, looking at Argyle’s profile wasn’t enough to satisfy. “Is there something on my face?” he asked, and Jonathan shook his head.

“No, just… your face.” His vision blurred as his eyelids slowly flitted closed, fighting an uphill battle to keep him awake. Everything was fuzzy inside and out, and Argyle chuckled.

“Well, I can’t exactly wipe that off, now, can I?”

In Hawkins, Jonathan wouldn’t have let his arm lean enough to the side to brush against Argyle’s. In Hawkins, his head wouldn’t have been guided to a broad shoulder with another pair of legs kicking the swing into motion again. In Hawkins, he wouldn’t have been completely and totally relaxed at the mercy of someone else, but Argyle’s head falling over his own was enough to blanket the rest of him in warmth. Maybe it was his hair.

Either way, it was Argyle. He was one thing to love about California.

#.discowrites #jargyle bingo #jargyle #jonathan byers #argyle #argyle x jonathan #jonathan x argyle #stranger things #stranger things fic

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floristworld · 3 months ago

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The Timeless Charm of Autumn Flowers for Weddings

As the leaves begin to turn and the air grows crisp, the allure of autumn makes its way into every detail of a wedding, especially the Indianapolis flowers. Autumn offers a rich palette of warm hues, from deep burgundy to golden yellows, transforming any wedding venue into a celebration of nature's beauty. Couples planning their weddings during this season can take full advantage of the unique and vibrant blooms that are only available in the fall.

The charm of autumn flowers lies in their boldness and texture. Dahlias, chrysanthemums, and asters bring drama to bouquets, while earthy accents like berries, seed pods, and branches add a rustic elegance. These flowers, paired with seasonal foliage, create stunning arrangements that perfectly match the mood of an autumn celebration. The natural richness of these flowers allows couples to embrace a more organic, laid-back feel, while still offering sophistication.

Incorporating these autumn blooms into wedding décor extends beyond bouquets. From floral arches that echo the colors of fall to centerpieces that glow with the warmth of the season, these flowers breathe life into every element of the big day. The season also lends itself to more adventurous color schemes, combining unexpected tones that make every floral design feel truly one-of-a-kind.

As the wedding season transitions from summer to fall, there's a certain magic that only autumn flowers can bring. Their bold beauty and natural charm create a timeless elegance that will make any wedding unforgettable, leaving guests mesmerized by the essence of autumn.

#flowers #bouquet #wedding bouquet

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idoflowersbysarah · 3 months ago

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Elegant Wedding Flower Arrangements in Indianapolis: Inspiration for Every Season

Introduction

Planning a wedding in Indianapolis means embracing the city’s unique charm and vibrant seasons. Each season brings its own beauty, providing endless possibilities for wedding flower arrangements in Indianapolis. Whether you’re dreaming of a spring garden wedding or a cozy winter ceremony, the right floral arrangements can elevate your event, creating an unforgettable atmosphere. Here’s a guide to inspire your wedding decoration ideas in Indianapolis, tailored to each season’s distinct character.

Spring: A Celebration of Renewal

Spring in Indianapolis is a time of rebirth and renewal, making it the perfect season for fresh and vibrant wedding flower arrangements. As the city awakens from winter’s slumber, flowers like tulips, daffodils, and hyacinths bloom in abundance, offering a lively palette of colors. Imagine a wedding filled with pastel shades, where bouquets are bursting with peonies, lilacs, and cherry blossoms. These flowers not only symbolize the joy of new beginnings but also bring a delicate fragrance that enhances the overall experience.

For those looking to incorporate local elements, consider adding Indiana-native flowers such as wild columbine or Virginia bluebells. These flowers not only align with the season but also add a touch of regional charm to your wedding decoration ideas in Indianapolis. A spring wedding can be further complemented with greenery like ferns and ivy, creating a lush, garden-like atmosphere that is both elegant and refreshing.

Summer: Bright and Bold

Summer weddings in Indianapolis are all about embracing the warmth and vibrancy of the season. This is the time to go bold with your flower choices. Sunflowers, roses, and dahlias are excellent choices for summer wedding flower arrangements in Indianapolis. Their bright colors and robust petals can withstand the summer heat, ensuring your arrangements look fresh throughout the day.

Consider mixing these bold blooms with delicate accents like baby’s breath or Queen Anne’s lace for a balanced look. If you’re planning an outdoor wedding, think about incorporating flowers that thrive in the summer sun, such as zinnias or marigolds. These flowers add a touch of rustic charm to your arrangements and can be paired with burlap or wooden accents for a more natural, down-to-earth vibe.

For a touch of elegance, incorporate orchids or lilies into your arrangements. These flowers add sophistication and can be used in both bouquets and table centerpieces. The versatility of summer flowers allows you to play with different textures and colors, creating a vibrant and lively atmosphere that reflects the joy and energy of the season.

Fall: Rich and Romantic

Fall in Indianapolis brings a rich tapestry of colors, making it an ideal season for romantic and warm wedding flower arrangements. The deep reds, oranges, and yellows of autumn foliage can be beautifully complemented by flowers like chrysanthemums, roses, and dahlias. These blooms are perfect for creating arrangements that evoke the warmth and coziness of the season.

One of the most popular wedding decoration ideas in Indianapolis for fall is to incorporate seasonal elements like berries, wheat, and even small pumpkins into your floral arrangements. These elements add texture and depth, creating a visually stunning display that captures the essence of autumn.

For a more sophisticated look, consider using jewel-toned flowers such as deep purple calla lilies or burgundy amaranthus. These flowers add a touch of drama and elegance to your wedding, making your arrangements stand out. Paired with gold or copper accents, these flowers create a luxurious and timeless look that is perfect for a fall wedding.

Winter: Timeless Elegance

Winter weddings in Indianapolis offer a unique opportunity to embrace the beauty of the season with elegant and timeless flower arrangements. White roses, lilies, and orchids are classic choices for winter wedding flower arrangements in Indianapolis. Their crisp, clean lines and soft petals create a serene and sophisticated atmosphere, perfect for a winter wonderland theme.

For a more dramatic look, consider incorporating deep red roses or burgundy peonies into your arrangements. These rich, velvety flowers add warmth and depth to your decor, creating a striking contrast against the winter landscape. Adding elements like pinecones, evergreen branches, or even subtle touches of sparkle can further enhance the wintery feel of your wedding.

Candlelight is a beautiful addition to winter weddings, creating a warm and inviting glow that complements the elegance of your flower arrangements. Consider using candles as part of your table centerpieces, surrounded by smaller arrangements of winter flowers and greenery. This creates a cozy and romantic ambiance that is perfect for an intimate winter celebration.

Conclusion

No matter the season, Indianapolis offers a wealth of inspiration for wedding flower arrangements that can make your special day truly memorable. From the fresh blooms of spring to the rich tones of fall, each season brings its own unique beauty that can be reflected in your wedding decoration ideas in Indianapolis. By choosing the right flowers and incorporating seasonal elements, you can create an elegant and timeless wedding that captures the essence of your love and the spirit of the season.

Whether you’re planning a summer celebration or a winter wonderland, the key to stunning wedding flower arrangements in Indianapolis lies in understanding the seasonal beauty of the city and letting it inspire your floral choices. With the right flowers, your wedding will not only be a celebration of your love but also a reflection of the natural beauty that surrounds you.

#wedding decoration #wedding flower #florist #best florist

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wikixpedia · 8 months ago

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Hannah Berner Biography, Wikipedia, Age, Lifestyle, Net Worth, Boyfriend...

Hannah Berner Biography, Wikipedia, Age, Lifestyle, Net Worth, Boyfriend, Husband, Family

Meet Hannah Berner, a dynamic individual who effortlessly wears multiple hats in the entertainment industry. From her roots as a professional tennis athlete to her vibrant career as a comedian, podcast host, and television personality, Berner's journey is nothing short of remarkable.

Born on August 21, 1991, in Brooklyn, New York, Hannah Berner spent her formative years navigating between the bustling city life and the serene shores of Shelter Island. Raised by her mother, Lenore DiLeo Berner, a jazz singer and former principal, and influenced by her grandmother, the late social media sensation Vera DiLeo, Hannah's upbringing was rich with creativity and inspiration.

After pursuing her education at the University of Wisconsin, where she honed her skills both on and off the tennis court, Berner embarked on a new chapter in her professional life. Joining forces with Betches Media as a creative video producer, she found a platform to channel her passion for storytelling.

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#youtube

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evil-ontheinside · 2 years ago

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Why is writing Dustin literally the funniest thing? I don't know how it keeps happening but I wrote at least three different times from his pov and every time it has the best lines. Have some various snippets from my WIPs to prove my point:

"Why do you have to be so negative about this? You will not be the one in trouble should something go wrong, I will handle the consequences." He has his arms crossed in front of his chest and it might have been intimidating - especially with that dagger still in hand - but it's not because it's Michael. The Prince, sure, but also the person Dustin had seen sitting drenched in the fountain of the main plaza, looking like a wet cat and grumbling about it with the dignity of a small child. The cut-off curtains, draped over his shoulder like a makeshift cape, don’t command much respect either. ----

Dustin had been playing one of his favorite songs, approved of by all the important people at home, including the royal family. He knows it better than the back of his hand, could perform it in his sleep if he had to, had played it while being attacked by a ranger in the forest - yes Lucas, this story will be made into a song sooner or later, there is no escape. ----

Dustin knows nothing. Prince Michael, who? Wait, no, Dustin knows something. But nothing important. Yes, that sounds better. ----

“You won’t believe this.” Dustin almost chokes on his drink when he looks up and sees Hopper storm into the Byers’ kitchen. He did not just hear the chief of police Jim Hopper say You won’t believe this also known as the most stereotypical sitcom-drama sentence ever, right? “Try me,” is all Joyce answers, completely unphased, from the kitchen table where they all sit together and try to complete a 2000-piece jigsaw puzzle. It’s going worse than he anticipated. At the same time Dustin triumphantly fits a piece into the right place, does he realize that this must be a normal occurrence. Jim Hopper, taken right out of the afternoon’s soap opera. He’ll need some time to process this later. -----

If anyone asks why he decided to spend one of the last days of summer vacation with Max underneath a lonely tree in the middle of an open field? They’re studying, obviously. Or having a romantic getaway that lasted for a few hours and will never happen ever again. They had planned to make this an extended Party event but, as usual, life just won’t go according to Dustin’s plan. He had it all planned out: camping for a night in a - of course completely randomly selected, no doubt about it - field in town, a DnD campaign crafted by Eddie himself to celebrate the last days of summer and far away from prying eyes to not disturb anyone. But no, the Byers and Hoppers - soon to be only Hoppers, Dustin is more than just a little excited for that wedding. He also had that fully planned out years ago but his planning was, as usual, not appropriately appreciated - had to make an impromptu family trip to god knows where, Steve, Eddie, and Robin - this betrayal maybe left the deepest wound - had suddenly all decided to take a road trip without telling anyone else beforehand, and the Sinclairs had all been jammed into their family car and carted off to visit a dying relative somewhere in Indianapolis. This left Max and Dustin all alone in Hawkins. At least Max was always down for a little espionage to search for possible gossip. Though Max had almost ditched him when he complained - totally justified by the way - about everyone leaving them behind when they should’ve been here with them, lying in waiting for the newest information. -----

Dustin doesn’t care. The others can hide their interest for all they want but he’s here to gather information and he’s not ashamed of it. His observations might as well be for science. His curiosity doors are wide open, he can’t risk only looking through a crack if he wants the full picture. -----

What the fuck do they need an old wooden chest for? Why doesn’t Dustin have an old wooden chest? He could totally pull off an old wooden chest in his room. Maybe, and Dustin thinks this with reluctance of the highest order, the rumors aren't as ridiculous and farfetched as they sounded at first. This family might not be quite normal. [...] A few more boxes join the wooden chest - and Dustin is still not over that. This thing looks like it was taken straight out of a medieval fantasy story. The cheek, the gall to show off their cool wooden chest in front of Dustin without considering his feelings - neatly stacked on top of it before he simply gets behind the wheel and takes off without giving them an answer as if he hadn’t even heard them.

#I just love him #he is so fun to write #and yes most of this is Mike and Dustin bc most of my stuff is about Mike but their dynamic is just too good #I almost prefer Dustin's pov over Mike's tbh #but yeah that's my wip for today #dustin henderson #stranger things #Henler #Wheelderson #I'm just gonna use both of those tags. no idea which one is actually used #mike wheeler #the party #writing wip #stranger things royal au

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caseyandhercamera · 1 year ago

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Crystal Coop Wedding | Indianapolis Wedding Photographer

Kelsie and Kodie’s Crystal Coop Wedding was my first time at the Anderson venue, but was such a treat to photograph. It also turned out to be one of the first true scorching days of the summer (amidst the wild stormy season we’ve been having), but we made it through and looking back through this post, Kelsie and Kodie made the sweltering heat look easy and even enjoyable. You can see Kelsie’s…

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#cake cutting #Crystal Coop wedding #indianapolis wedding photographer #Midwest Wedding #Rustic Summer Wedding #summer wedding #wedding florals #Wedding Reception

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fanfic-chaos · 2 years ago

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Steddie Rockstar Fics

I have recently been obsessed with Steddie fics where Eddie gets out of Hawkins and becomes a famous rock star but still ends up with Steve in some shape or form and eventually gushes to the public about his boyfriend Steve (who usually has a completely normal job and is literly “just some guy names Steve”). Anyway here has some of my favourite fics with that general theme and if anyone knows of more please let me know!

the most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway is that it’s you by @greatunironic (35k words)

Sixteen years after the world didn't end for the last time, Max Mayfield showed up on Steve’s doorstep and said, “You gonna walk me down the aisle in May or what?” Or, it’s 2002 and Steve Harrington attends a wedding, a funeral, and a birth.

to build a home by rocketshiptospace (27k words)

Steve snorts and shakes his head, and it hits Eddie, suddenly, that leaving Hawkins means leaving this too.

No more Steve showing up to his trailer in the middle of the night, no more annoying Steve during his shift at Family Video, no more movie nights with the gang, no more hanging out period. No more sleep overs after gigs, sleepy mornings, lazy afternoons.

Steve seems to have come to the same conclusion, because he tilts his head towards Eddie, a sad look in his eyes. “Promise me you’ll call, sometimes?”

Eddie turns his head, too, and their noses are only inches apart. The moment feels intimate, quiet. Safe. “Every day, if you want me too.” Eddie says, and Steve does that little huff laugh he does sometimes, and god, Eddie is going to miss him so much.

This is a story about home. Or, how Eddie slowly realizes Steve Harrington is his.

my way, your way (anything goes) by @ghostevie (25k words)

A guitar riff came out over top of all the other instruments and Steve froze in place, the smile on his face disappearing.

He knew that riff. He had heard it enough times over the summer of ‘86 to know it as soon as it started. Hell, Steve was there when it was written.

“Indianapolis, how are we fucking feeling?!”

The guitarist had run out from the side of the stage, wide smile on his face, strumming the riff over and over on his cherry red electric guitar as he spoke to the crowd. Eddie fucking Munson.

or;

Rockstar!Eddie Munson au set in the summer of 1988 where Corroded Coffin opens for Guns N’ Roses after Eddie ran away from Hawkins. Steve sees him for the first time in over a year and old feelings resurface.

give those kids who get me a star to wish upon by @tactiletelekonesis (10k words)

Eddie Munson always hoped he’d make it out of Hawkins. He just never expected to be joined by Steve Harrington. (A tale of how Eddie and Steve got together just before Corroded Coffin made it big.)

home by @peaktotheocean (3k words)

Eddie was well aware that his ideas of romance were vastly different from that of the general population. Metal, for one-- super romantic music in Eddie's opinion.

His partner showing up to a metal festival after a twelve hour shift teaching/babysitting a bunch of five year olds, not even changed or showered from his day, covered in paint that he was never going to get out of his favorite sweater vest? The most romantic thing Eddie could think of.

#steddie #steddie fics #steddie fic recs #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar steddie au #stranger things fics #stranger things

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taleofharrison · 2 years ago

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‘86 baby

A/N: Third and final part of the small accidental series I started. I think this one can also be read as a stan alone. This is also a fix it fic so volume one is canon and episode 9 never happened.

Part 1 | Part 2

Warnings: fluffy you might cry. Gender neutral (no pronouns used jus you and Y/N) Also I changed the format so we can give it closure.

Summer 1986, after two failed attempts of graduating and leaving Hawkins High for good, Eddie Munson had finally made it out of high school and was more than ready to leave Hawkins as well, live with you in Indianapolis while you finish college.

True to his word Eddie snatched that diploma and flipped Higgins. His eyes were bright, Eddie felt at the top of the world. After the ceremony everyone had gone to your house to celebrate Eddie. Your new friends Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Max and even Steve Harrington were invited. What could you say? Near death experiences and solving supernatural mysteries cand really bring people together.

Wayne had to hold back some tears during the whole day. He was so proud of Eddie, and he was so happy for him, but he didn’t want to cry in public.

“I found an apartment” you told Eddie after everyone had left “it is small but cheap and it’s close to my school. I think we both can afford it if we get part time jobs.”

“Sounds good” Eddie hummed.

“We can start moving our stuff this summer” you told him. Finally, distance wouldn’t be an issue for you both.

“Yeah, I’d like that” Eddie replied, “just one thing.”

“What?”

“Want to make sure this is forever” Eddie said pulling away from you.

“What are you talking about?” you asked. You’ve been friends for more than half your life by now, dating for 2 years now, and went through hell and back, what other confirmation did he need?

It all made sense though when you saw him pulling out a ring from his pocket. It was like the one he wore, like the one you had a necklace but this one looked a little bit different. This one was smaller.

“I know this isn’t an engagement ring” he began “but you know I don’t like to be conventional, I just after everything we’ve been through…I want to make sure this is actually forever.”

“Yes!” you knew what he was trying to ask. There was no other answer for you.

Eddie smiled putting the ring on your hand. “Fits perfectly” he mumbled before kissing you. This was it.

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By the end of the summer, you were ready to move out with Eddie and say goodbye to Hawkins for good. The hardest part was saying goodbye to everyone. The town might not have been the kindest to your boyfriend but still you managed to find some good friendships.

They had all come to the trailer park to say goodbye to you.

“Promise you’ll visit” Dustin warned you. He was making it hard not to leave.

“I promise” you laughed.

“I have to make sure you keep on with my legacy Henderson” Eddie teased.

“And the wedding will be here” you added “during winter break. You all must be there.”

You and Eddie had agreed that big white wedding wasn’t something you wanted but still both of you wanted your friends there, so you’d figured it’d be easier to get married in Hawkins rather than bring them all to Indianapolis with you.

“Eddie!” Wayne called him out from the trailer’s door “I need to talk to you”.

Eddie excused himself for a second as you said your goodbyes.

“What’s wrong?”

Wayne didn’t reply, he just gave Eddie an envelope.

“Wayne…this is a lot of money” Eddie said once he realized what was inside “I can’t accept this.”

“Take it as your graduation present.” Wayne insisted.

“But you need the money” Eddie argued back. After all his uncle had to do for him, he just couldn't bring himself to just take it.

“Son” Wayne sighed “I’ve seen you and Y/N grow up, and I’m so proud of you both. The least I can do is give you both a head start in your new life.”

“I-I…” to stunned to speak Eddie hugged his uncle “thank you.”

Both men had tears in their eyes. They both loved each other so much but of course they didn’t say it often. Eddie, who lived most of his childhood with his dad who wasn’t exactly dad of the year, and Wayne, who didn’t have know how to raise until Eddie showed up, weren’t the best ones at expressing their affection but they knew, and it was all that mattered.

“Eddie” you called out “we have to go if we want to make it before dark.”

“Yes…uhm I have to go”

It was definitely harder to leave Hawkins than you thought it would be, but it was something you had to do. Both of you had big plans and dreams and now it was your time to make them happen, it was almost as if it was meant to be, you were meant to be together and Wayne Munson was the first one to know that.

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Tags: @natashaashleymarvelromanoff

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson blurb #stranger things imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction

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erineverly · 3 years ago

Text

❛ CONTINUED FROM HERE . 🌻 ┊ ( @rcsechild )

The last few months have been challenging and difficult for Erin, to say the least. Ever since their wedding in April, everything has been spiraling down, with a few ups here and there but nothing truly significant. She can count on the fingers of one hand the days when she was genuinely happy from the moment that she opened her eyes in the morning to the second she closed them at night. They always find something to bicker about, whether it’s something as unimportant as a leaky faucet or something that originates from a much bigger issue like random outbursts of jealousy and anger. There’s always some sort of tension between them and it’s driving her insane. She thinks of running away so often that every time her eyes flicker to the ring on her finger, she can’t help but feel repulsed. Especially when she reminds herself that it’s no longer just the two of them — they’re having a baby and the timing couldn’t possibly be worse. Willow Amelia will be here in a few weeks and their marriage is hanging by a thread. She doubts it can last until the end of September, let alone the beginning of November.

There’s a lot of stress and pressure on both of them. Despite Erin’s best efforts, this pregnancy has been anything but a joyful ride, especially the third trimester. Summers in California are usually hot and dry. Born and raised in the Valley, the curly-haired brunette has grown used to the heat index being above the 90s. However, this particular summer is unlike anything she’s ever experienced. Her feet swell almost every single day, her back and legs ache constantly, she has to go to the bathroom every twenty minutes and even after hours and hours of nothing but frustrations, she rarely gets any sleep at night. She suffers from insomnia. All she does when the sun goes down is toss and turn and waddle to the bathroom. But the worst part about this whole ordeal? She feels like she’s alone. She can’t truly count on anyone because no one understands what she’s going through. She’s tired and grouchy and easily irritated, and all the hormonal changes in her body only pour more gasoline over the already burning fire.

However, despite acting selfish so often, Erin does understand that there’s a lot on Axl’s plate as well right now. She’d have to be blind to fail to notice how frustrated he can get. With Steven no longer in the band, their house still up on the market, the crazy neighbor calling the cops on them every time they as much as raise their voices, the amount of stress that the redhead most likely experiences on a daily basis must be immeasurable. Unfortunately, instead of making things easier for him, his wife is doing the exact opposite and unintentionally only making his life more difficult. That’s when guilt sets in. They should be cherishing every moment that they get to spend together, they should be thankful that their baby is alive and growing . . . Usually, they do anything but that.

So, when Axl shakes her awake one morning, the last thing that she expects is a surprise trip. The vacation that they both clearly need and deserve. When she opens her eyes and sees the suitcases, the very first thing that comes to her mind is — he’s finally had enough, he’s leaving. Her features light up all at once when he informs her that they’re going to the airport together. When they touch down in Indianapolis, Erin is no longer the grouchy, frustrated beast that she’d been the past few weeks. There’s a bright smile on her face and an almost unfamiliar feeling in her heart — hope. Maybe, just maybe, everything will work out and this will be the new beginning. The change that they’ve both been waiting and praying for. Their plane arrives late in the evening, which is why they decide to stay the night at a hotel in Indianapolis, get some much-needed rest and start exploring the next morning.

That’s how they find themselves in a car, heading in the direction only known to the redhead. For the first time in months, Erin is completely relaxed and actually feeling good. One could even say that she’s glowing again. “So . . . We should play a game, you know? I’ll try to guess where we’re going and if I’m right, you’ll buy me a milkshake when we get there,” she playfully suggests, reaching over the console and turning the music down just enough for them to hear one another. She opens her mouth and is about to share one of her assumptions with the redhead when something distracts her. She jolts up in her seat like an overjoyed toddler and squeaks, “oh, my goodness! Look at all these cows, Axy! Aren’t they so cute? Why aren’t they black and white, though? I thought all cows were black and white.” Giggling, she points at a large herd of cows outside and waves at them. “Moo!” She calls out just to be even more obnoxious and make the other laugh. “I don’t think they understand me, Axy. You should try. This one could be your twin sister. She just hasn’t grown her bangs as long as yours yet.”

#rcsechild #☆┆ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ·ʀᴇ ɪɴ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴏғ sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴍʏ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ᴡᴏɴ·ᴛ ᴅᴇɴʏ ʏᴏᴜ.┆( 1990. )#i hope this is okay 💖💖💖💖💖#let me know if you want me to change stuff around #i remember us talking about how axl wanted to surprise erin with a trip to lafayette and so i just snatched that idea jsndkjf #erin: why aren't these cows black and white? what's wrong with them?#she's a valley girl through and through smh she thinks there's only one breed of cows they're all holsteins to her #me: i'm gonna write a serious starter #erin: moooooo #at least axl knows what road trips with baby s will be like lol #im excited :')#can you believe this is the thread in which baby s will be born im jfkdsjkjfsd HOW they're children themselves omgosh

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actualhumansunshine · 3 years ago

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Just want to add that yesterday a fan claimed that SH went to #1 in the US because of Niall’s constant promo. Nothing could be further from the truth. He had 3 TV performances in the 3 weeks after it dropped in May and then nothing until September except some local radio things. That song went to #1 because Capitol radio team did all the work. We wanted real promo so badly to go top 10, and there had been nothing for months. For the 3 months of the summer of 2017, SH only moved because of radio.

sorry, but that is absolutely, demonstrably not true??? here’s a summary of how promo for that song went:

- the song dropped on thurs may 4. he spent release day and the friday after doing phone ins, twitter q&a's, and other bits of promo

- over the next week, a slow trickle of interviews from around the world were released

- fri may 12 was his first radio show where he played OTL for the first time

- sat may 13 was wango tango, which was broadcast live online

- mon may 15, the slow hands lyric video was released and he officially started the promo push at stations in and around LA, which continued over the next few days

- wed may 17, he filmed ellen, which aired the following day

- thurs may 18, he started 2 weeks of traveling across the country doing radio shows, appearances at stations, live performances, and q&a's for local fans (a few of which were also broadcast online). that included stops in chicago, minneapolis, las vegas, nashville, baltimore, DC, NYC, and boston

- in the midst of that, thurs may 25, his billboard feature was released and he filmed an appearance the tonight show to air that night, and then mon may 29, he performed on the today show

- after finishing the US push on may 31, he immediately went back to the UK to begin the international push

- thurs june 1, niall's tmrw magazine cover was announced

- sun june 4, he performed at ari's one love manchester concert, which was live-streamed around the world

- mon june 5, he appeared and performed on BBC's the one show

- wed june 7, he had a press junket day for outlets in the UK & ireland, which were released over the following days and weeks

- thurs june 8, his first ever solo live lounge

- sat june 10, performed at capital's summertime ball

- sun june 11, his notion magazine cover was announced

- over the next week, he did promo and appearances around europe, particularly in germany and sweden

- fri june 16, he was back in london to perform at the 500 words final, which was broadcast live on bbcr2

- from there, he went straight to canada for his MMVAs performance on sun june 18, then spent a day or two doing promo and appearances around toronto

- he had a few days off before going back to the US for a few more radio shows over the next weekend (june 23-25) in indianapolis, chicago, and detroit

- it was almost a full week before he showed back up in australia on thurs june 29 and spent two days doing tons of radio appearances, tv appearances, performances, all leading up to his performance on the voice au on sun july 2

- tues july 4, he went over to japan, then did a junket the next day

- then he went to singapore and did more promo, including a junket for southeast asian countries and a performance / q&a for fans on fri july 7

- after that he went back to the UK for some time off, but the flicker sessions tour was announced on mon july 10 and there was a fairly constant stream of backlogged promo still being released

- sun july 16, he performed on the voice kids uk (i'm pretty sure it was the finale, but don't quote me on that)

- again he disappeared for a while, took some time off, and—at least as far as i remember—didn't resurface again (at least on the music side) until just before the flicker sessions tour was about to start

and then again with that, if you'll remember, for the first half of the tour leading up to the album release date, they had a system where he'd do the show that night, then the next day was a press junket in that city, then they'd travel to the next place. so during that time, he was able to do even MORE promo in ireland, the UK, europe, australia, japan, etc, and eventually making his way back to the US for more promo and to the iheart radio festival in vegas on sun sept 23, which is where he was when he was officially announced as #1 on the top 40 charts, which was followed by peaking on the hot 100 at #11 that week.

when you look at that, how the fuck can you say that he didn’t do anything??? even if you take away the international promo, which i think would be a huge disservice to him and the amount of work he put in to push that single, there was still a good month there where he was busting his ass traveling across the US and building goodwill with different radio stations and outlets???? and i don’t think it mATTERS if radio was the primary driving force behind the song in the charts, that’s in no way a knock to it or the success it achieved in my eyes, cause at the end of the day, it still got to where it was off the back of the work that HE put into it. maybe there’s more that could have been done to push it into the hot 100 top 10, but maybe there wasn’t, who really knows at this point. for me, the most important thing is just recognizing the amount of work that he DID put into it and the fact that he wasn’t just sitting on his ass waiting for it to happen or going MIA for days or weeks at a time. that alone makes the success it DID achieve something worth being proud of, even if it wasn’t quite to the level that he or we may have wanted it to get yk??

#i mean if we're gonna speak can we at least be accurate please #and i'll provide links if anyone wants them as well ❤#slow hands #answered #anonymous

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yikesharringrove · 5 years ago

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So I have this theory that Steve and billy would take a long time to get to each other. They both have so much damage. They know they would be amazing but they also know they aren’t ready yet. So they go with their separate ways. They grow up, they get better. 10 years later they are both back home for a wedding (let’s say Dustin/Erica because I personally think they would be awesome. She would run his life and he would thank her for it) And S/B realize they are ready now. The timing is perfect

Read on Ao3.

“It looks good, buddy.”

Steve was sitting bored in the leather armchair. His hand was propping his chin as he stared at Dustin. He had tried out 18 suits and Steve was tired.

“I don’t know, Steve. I don’t think I like the blue.” It was his sixth navy suit. Steve wanted to bash his head in.

“I still maintain I like the first one.” Dustin took another look in the mirror before nodding.

“I’ll put the first one back on.” Steve groaned at the ceiling.

Steve was Dustin’s Best Man. They had kept in close contact even as Steve moved to Chicago, worked entry-level jobs until he went to college, studied, and became a special education teacher.

Dustin had recently graduated from MIT, was living in Indianapolis with Erica. He worked at an engineering lab, was designing already. Steve was very proud. The past few months he had driven to Indy every Friday and staying through the weekend, helping him with plans, the registry, and addressing invitations. He nearly shit when he wrote Billy Hargrove’s name and address.

“Okay, I think this is the one.” Dustin was back in the first one. Steve wanted to hit his head against the wall until he fucking died.

“Okay, so we’ve got me and your mom, and the Sinclairs, and Marnie, and Robin at Table 1. Table 2 is El and Mike and Will and Seth and Reggie and Max and Angie and Lucas, which, shouldn’t he sit at table one? Family and that. Table 3 is Nancy and Jonathan and Mrs. Byers and Hopper and-” Steve choked on the next name. “Billy? Why didn’t you tell me he was coming?” Dustin looked up from the huge board they had been using to make the seating chart.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes. You know he’s the love of my fucking life.” Steve was gawking at Dustin who rolled his eyes.

"He's not. You've just been gross and hung up on him for ten years, Steve. That's lame."

"We could've had something! We were getting close and I kept-"

"You were getting closer and you kept feeling electricity and then he died and then he was fine and then he ran away to California I know, Steve." Steve felt his face heat up He looked back at the seating chart. "Stop pouting."

"I'm not pouting." He was totally pouting. "It's just, I haven't seen him in ten years. It's gonna be, what if he's moved on."

"He's not bringing a plus one."

"Maybe they couldn't come." Dustin rolled his eyes.

"Just fucking talk to him when you see him. Don't know why it has to be such a big deal."

"I can't talk to him, Dustin. what would I say?"

"Start with hi, Billy. And just see where it takes you."

"I just, it's been a while since I've dated and-"

"But it's time you moved on from Taylor. I told you that guys was bad news, and lo and fucking behold, he ends up sucking." Steve shifted uncomfortably. That relationship had ended over three years ago, ended with Steve spending two months on Robin's couch. He was still in therapy over it.

"Yeah, I know." Steve was talking to his arms, folding tightly over his chest.

"Buddy, I'm not trying to be an ass. Just saying. You're doing much better after that. And Max says Billy's really good. That he's got his life on track and is happy."

"Then he probably has someone. And he might not even be into guys!"

"Okay, then get over your lame self, and be his friend." Steve huffed. "But whatever you do, just help me finish this fucking seating chart."

Steve was fucking running.

He had been in charge of the rings, and he had, misplaced them.

Because of course he fucking did. Of course, he held onto them for weeks only to lose them on the day.

He was sweating through his white shirt in the Hawkins heat. Running from room to room in the upstairs of the old house. His parents kept the Hawkins house, just in case they were ever passing through. Steve doesn't think they've spent more than three hours in it since he was nineteen, but it gave him a free place to crash whenever he was in town.

He was tearing through rooms, anywhere he could've been these past few hours. He knows he had the rings when he put on his shirt, had them in his pocket when he realized he needed cufflinks.

He flew downstairs, rummaging through the drawer in his father's side of the bathroom, finding the rings exactly where he had stolen the cufflinks from. They were thin, gold bands. Erica's had a small diamond set into it. They were engraved on the inside, quotes for Star Wars, Dustin's holding Princess Leia's I love you, Erica's with Han Solo's I know. Steve had made fun of them endlessly when he had picked them up from the jeweler's.

"Steve, you're a fucking idiot and also a genius." He scrambled to his car, driving well over the speed limit to the venue, a historic house in the old part of Hawkins. It was grand and beautiful and much cooler than the summer air outside. Steve was so focused on delivering the rings he didn't notice the Camaro sitting out front, still in its pristine condition. He opened doors at random, getting screamed at by Erica's Maid of Honor, Marnie, when he burst into the wrong room. Marnie fucking hated Steve, and he didn't really know why. Apparently it had something to do with the engagement party. But, he got blackout fucking drunk at that thing, so he had no idea what she was so pissed about.

Well, now she was quite obviously pissed that he had slammed open the door to find her and Erica in robes, getting their makeup done. She threw a shoe at his head.

He was fucking sprinting down a hallway when he crashed right into a fucking wall, solid and steady. He was knocked back on his ass,

"Oh shit, sorry!" He looked up, finding Billy Hargrove staring down at him. "Steve fucking Harrington. As I live and breathe." Billy's hair was long, was wild and big. He was wearing a well-fitting suit, looked thick and muscled, more than he had in high school. Steve's mouth went fucking dry. Billy had his shirt unbuttoned to the bottom of his sternum, showing off a large chest piece, gorgeous flowers weaving around and through the scar on his chest. Steve could see it was healed, but still raised, pink and shiny in a few areas, the skin pulled and puckered where Billy had been stitched back together.

Billy extended a hand, a scarred tattooed hand, and heaved Steve off the floor.

"Hi, Billy." Billy grinned at him. It was softer than he remembered. "You look good."

"You seen yourself? You're still as pretty as I remember." Steve fucking giggled like a fucking schoolgirl. He had let his hair grow out some since high school. Some of the kids liked his long hair.

"What have you, what have you been up to?" Steve was overly aware of his arms. Was trying to find a way to hold himself that didn't look stupid.

"You know, California. USed my government hush money to go to culinary school. I'm a sous-chef now at a restaurant in L.A."

"Oh, wow. Congratulations. You've really, you've come a long way. You look, happy." Steve flushed a little more.

"What are you doin', Pretty Boy?" Steve's heart tripped over itself at the old nickname.

"I'm in Chicago, now. I teach special education at an elementary school. I'm actually, I'm in line to become head of the department when the current one, when she retires." Billy's eyes crinkled at the corners with his smile.

"That's so perfect for you. What made you choose special ed?"

"I went to college and learned I'm dyslexic." Billy barked a laugh, one Steve had never heard before, a fucking real one.

"You didn't know? I could've told you that!"

"I mean, I just thought I was fucking stupid, but once I learned what the problem was, the university gave me some resources to help. I was actually in the nursing program, but I kept thinking about how the university helped me so much, that getting a real diagnosis was fucking life-changing, not only for school, but just in the way I thought about myself. I don't want kids to grow up like I did, convinced that their literal disability is just, just stupidity." Steve met Billy's eyes, saw them glow with fondness.

"I'm so happy for you, Steve. I'm so proud you found such an amazing calling, you seem like you've come such a long way." Billy squeezed his upper arm, made Steve melt.

"Thank you, that, that really means a lot to m-"

"Steve! I have been looking for you for hours. Where have you been, Asshole?" Dustin was stomping down the hall

"Doesn't matter. I'm here, I've got the rings, I'm ready to go."

"Did you not have the rings?" Dustin looked like he was going to explode.

"I have them! See!" Steve pulled them out of his pocket, clinking them together. "All engraved with your nerd shit and ready." Billy was watching them, an amused look on his face.

"You are a nightmare and the worst best man in the history of-"

"Can you not be dramatic for one fucking da-"

"I'm allowed to be dramatic today, I'm getting marrie-"

"You're never allowed to be dramatic you little-"

"God, you two really are brothers. You fight like siblings." They both whipped to look at Billy, giving him the exact same pissed off-glare. Billy laughed at them.

"Look, I'll get outta y'all's hair." He clapped Steve on the shoulder. "It's good to see you, Stevie. Hope we can catch up more. Congrats, Dustin." He trotted down the hall. Dustin grinned at Steve.

"It's GOOD to see you, STEVIE. He's totally into you. It's exhausting being right all the time." Steve slapped his arm.

The ceremony was short and sweet.

Steve stood behind Dustin, handed him a tissue when he got all misty, took one for himself when he began tearing up. He noticed Billy sitting a few rows back, noticed how his eyes were always on Steve whenever Steve's trailed over to him. He was smiling softly at him, even fucking winked at Steve, made him go red and look away. Robin noticed something off about him, noticed the way he was flushed, raised her eyebrow for her spot in the first row with Claudia. He shook his head.

The cocktail hour took place outside in the oppressive heat as the large ballroom was altered from ceremony set-up, to dinner and dancing. Steve was overseeing the transition, as Dustin was extremely specific, and someone needed to deal with it.

"You've been weird all day." Robin knocked her shoulder into his. "It finally catching up to you that one of your kids is married?"

"Mike and El have been married for like, years."

"Yeah, but Dustin is your baby." Steve rolled his eyes.

"It really doesn't bug me. I just, Billy's here. We like, talked earlier. And he kept, lookin' at me." She sighed.

"You know what I've always said about Billy. When he was coming into Scoops like, every day and being all flirty. But just, be careful he's been through a lot and, I just don't want the whole Taylor situation to happen again." He shuffled his feet.

"It won't. He seemed, happy. Like he was all bright and was, was laughing, and I've never heard him laugh like that." Her eyes were soft.

"Just be careful, Dingus."

At dinner, Steve had to give his speech.

He was a wreck, had dropped his cards, and started fucking crying a couple different times. But he got laughs in all the right places, and Claudia had cried loudly so he was feeling pretty alright about it.

He had made a point not to look at Billy the whole time, couldn't fathom looking into his bright eyes as he talked. As dinner winded to a close, the bar opened, and the music began.

Dustin and Erica's first dance was so sweet, they had chosen At Last, the Etta James number that made Steve and Claudia tear up. Lucas took Erica out next, swapping with Mr. Sinclair as Claudia took Dustin.

And then the music devolved into upbeat dance numbers, kept everyone on their feet for hours.

Steve was taking a much-needed break. Nancy had worn him out during Rio, arguably the best Duran Duran dong to ever exist according to Steve.

"You're really tearing it up out there. Nice to see your taste hasn't changed at all." Billy was leaning against the bar, was nursing an amber-colored drink. Steve sipped his pink wine.

"I stand by Duran Duran." Billy laughed, leaning forward enough for Steve to feel his warmth.

"Your speech was nice."

"Thank you! I was so fucking nervous, you have no idea." It was easy talking to Billy. Felt like not a day had passed since they were sitting on the hood of Steve's car at the quarry together, throwing rocks into the water and passing a joint back and forth.

"I wanna know everything about from these past ten years." Steve took in a big breath.

"You pretty much know it all. Took me a good while to get my shit together and get through school, finding something I'm passionate about."

"But there has to be more. A lot can happen in ten years. You dating anyone?" Steve's heart lodged itself in his throat. He blinked down at his wine.

"Not right now. Last one was, uh, it really fucked me up." Billy's hand was so warm when he placed it on Steve's shoulder.

"I'm sorry I asked. You don't gotta explain." Steve blinked, shaking himself.

"Are you, are you with someone?" Billy chuckled. He ran a hand through his hair, through the wild curls Steve was obsessed with.

"Nah. Hard to find guys that don't get weirded out by the scars. I've got a whole lotta baggage."

"Sorry, guys?" Billy gave him an odd look.

"Yeah, Harrington. Guys. I'm gay. That a problem?" It was the closest Billy had looked to his old Hawkins self, puffing his chest up.

"No, that's not a problem. Just didn't know is all. I'm, uh, I'm bisexual." Billy's eyebrows shot up.

"No shit?"

"No shit." Billy smirked at him.

"You know I've always had a thing for you." Steve choked on his wine, coughing harshly as Billy laughed, thumping him on the back.

"Don't say that shit to me. I've had the biggest stupidest fucking crush on you since I was seventeen. That summer before everything when to shit, when we were, like, hanging out, I kept thinking something was gonna, was gonna happen." Billy's smile fell.

"I know. I'm sorry, Stevie. I just, I wasn't good back then. I was so fucking angry, about moving to Hawkins, and everything with my dad, and then getting possessed, I wouldn't've been good to you. And you deserve good, Stevie. You wouldn't have grown like you did if you were always trying to take care 'a me."

"Sometimes, the growing hurt, and I, I wish some of it hadn't have happened."

"I know how that feels, Pretty Boy. But the growing, sometimes it has to hurt. Everything that happened to me, everything with that thing, it made me who I am, and for the first time in my whole life, I really like who I am." Steve took a breath.

"You know, I never got the story from you. Why you actually moved to Hawkins. You'd say something different and ridiculous every time I asked." Billy looked down at his drink.

"My dad. He caught me with a boy in my room. He said, he told me living in the midwest would straighten me out. I think he thought either I play straight or I'd get hate crimed."

"I'm sorry, Bill." He smiled at him, just one side of his mouth ticking up.

"Honestly, Pretty Boy. Like I said, everything really happens for a reason. That's what I live by now, because all that horrible shit, it led me here, and I'm okay."

"Good for you, Bill. I really mean that. You've made such a great life for yourself." Billy pressed in closer to him, made Steve's breath catch.

"Thank you, Sweet Thing. That means a lot comin' from you." He leaned even further into Steve's space. "You wanna get outta here? I've got a nice hotel room." Steve felt warmth spread down his spine. He hooked a finger into one of Billy's belt loops.

"You know, I've always loved that car 'a yours. First time I saw you get out of it, kept thinking about getting fucked in that back seat." Billy groaned, his head falling onto Steve's shoulder.

"It's parked right outside." Steve leaned to Billy's ear.

"Race ya."

They ran, giggling like little kids all the way to Billy's vintage car. Billy fumbled with the keys, dropping them twice before Steve yanked open the door, diving in the back seat.

They were still giggling as they struggled outta their clothes, making out in between items. Steve flopped down once he was undressed, pulling Billy down on top of him, laughing as Billy knocked the wind out of him.

The giggles turned to moans when Billy latched onto his neck, sucking and biting. He finally put his hand in those curls, the other trailing down his back, ghosting over the scars there.

"I love all your tattoos. So gorgeous." Billy pressed kisses down his chest. He stopped at the large scar running from the inside of Steve's collarbone a few inches down his arm.

"What's this from?" Steve stiffened under him. He sat up, brushing some hair off of Steve's forehead.

"It's, it's from a surgery I had."

"What happened?" Steve pushed his hand away from the scar.

"Shattered my collarbone." Steve was sitting up, was tugging his pants back on.

"Shit, Stevie, I'm sorry. I won't, you don't have to talk about it." Steve huffed, flopping back into the seat.

"It's okay. It's just-" He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Billy tugged his own slacks back on. "The relationship I told you about. The last one I was in." BIlly's eyes went big. He took Steve's hand.

"Stevie, I'm sorry." Steve shook his head."How long were you two together?"

"A little over four years."

"Holy shit."

"I ended things over three years ago. Packed my shit and left when he was at work. Lived with Robin after that." He crossed his arms over his middle. "I should've known too. There were, there were so many red flags, but I didn't, I never really ever felt loved, and he told me that he loved me, and so I stayed. Through everything."

"Was he your first relationship since Nancy?"

"Like, full relationship. Once I moved to the city, I let myself go wild a little bit, fucked around with a lot of different people. I thought he was it for me, thought he was the one. We moved in together after about six months." Billy placed a hand on Steve's thigh.

"I'm sorry, Baby. I know how you feel. I know how painful it is to live like that."

"I know you do. And I'm, Robin and Dustin really helped me. They helped me find a support group for queer abuse survivors, and, and Robin drove me to therapies, and I'm so much better, but it's, especially the scar, it's a painful reminder." Billy leaned over, pressing a light kiss to the center of it.

"Stevie, I really like you. I'd like to do this properly. I want to take you on a date." Steve looked at him with wide eyes.

"You, really?"

"Yeah, Baby. Been gone on you since I was sixteen years old." Steve took Billy's face between each palm, kissed him softly, smiled into it, into how right it felt, these two broken boys, these two healed men finally finding one another again.

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