#artist!steve x reader

[golden-ariess]

To The Moon & Back

Pairing: Stalker!Artist Steve

Warnings: Stalking, Manipulation 18+

His Muse Masterlist

| A/N: Surprise, surprise. I had inspiration for the first time in nearly two years. I hope y'all enjoy this ✨

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You read the message again, each word feeling like it was scraping against your skin. How could the person you once loved so deeply become the one you feared most? It didn’t seem possible. You had thought, once, that your love was invincible, that it could weather anything. But Steve’s darkness was something you never anticipated, something that grew in the shadows of his mind until it took over everything else.

You folded the note in half, then again, and tucked it into the side pocket of your bag. You told yourself you’d throw it away later, but a part of you knew you wouldn’t. Even now, when you felt nothing but dread at the thought of him, the memory of who he used to be still clung to you, haunting like a ghost you couldn’t shake.

It wasn’t just the notes, or the roses, or even the sketches—each one more haunting than the last. It was the feeling that he was always there, watching from the distance, just out of sight. You’d feel the prickling of eyes on your back as you walked through the parking lot at night, or the faint rustling of leaves outside your window when you knew no one should be there.

But the worst were the dreams. Dreams where his face would change, morphing into something unrecognizable—twisted, desperate. He’d reach for you, and you’d wake up gasping, sheets tangled around your legs as you fought to break free from the memory.

Once, you had believed in soulmates. Now, you were just trying to find a way to break the ties that bound you to him.

The police had told you that there wasn’t enough evidence to issue a restraining order. The flowers, the notes—none of it was explicitly threatening. “He’s just trying to get your attention,” they’d said. But they didn’t understand the fear that twisted inside you, the sense that each day brought him closer to crossing a line you couldn’t come back from.

You forced yourself to stand, trying to shake the unease that had settled deep in your bones. You had a life to live, a life that no longer included him. The sun was setting, casting long shadows over your apartment, and you decided it was time to draw the curtains, close the door, and block out the past.

But as you pulled the blinds shut, you caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of your eye—just a flash, a movement on the sidewalk. Your breath hitched, your hands froze on the fabric. You peered through the slats, your heart hammering. Was it him, watching again? Or was it just your imagination, playing tricks on you?

You told yourself to let it go. You shut the blinds tight, locked the door, and turned on every light in the apartment. But even then, the shadows seemed to press in, whispering that he was still out there, waiting.

And somewhere deep inside, you knew that the storm wasn’t over yet.

Night settled in, and the apartment felt smaller, the walls closing in as you paced from room to room, checking the locks and glancing at the windows for any sign of movement. You told yourself it was just nerves. It had to be. You couldn’t let him control your life like this, not when you’d fought so hard to get away.

You had left everything behind changed your number, moved to a new city, even deleted your social media accounts. You told yourself that a fresh start was all you needed. But Steve was a shadow that clung to you, no matter how far you ran.

Your phone buzzed on the counter, and you jumped, your heart leaping to your throat. You grabbed it, hands shaking. It was only a text from Rachel, your best friend and the one person who had stood by you when everything with Steve fell apart. She’d always been the voice of reason, the one to remind you of who you were before him.

"Hey, how’s everything? You good?"

You wanted to lie, to say that everything was fine and you were settling in perfectly. But Rachel knew you too well.

"Just another night, I guess. I thought I saw him again. I’m probably overreacting."

She replied almost instantly.

"You know you’re not. He’s dangerous, and he’s obsessed. Just stay safe, okay?"

You typed out a quick response, feeling the familiar ache of longing for a time when things were simple, when you didn’t have to think about locking your doors or feeling your stomach twist every time your phone buzzed. Rachel was right; you couldn’t let your guard down. But the weight of it all felt heavier than ever.

The clock on the wall ticked loudly in the silence of the room. You tried to distract yourself, turning on the TV, scrolling through channels until you settled on an old sitcom—one you’d watched a million times before, back when laughter came easy and life felt normal. The familiar characters played out their scripted lives, oblivious to the messiness of the real world.

You lost yourself in it for a while, the laughter and the bright colors a brief reprieve. But when you reached for your glass of water, you noticed your hands were still shaking. The fear sat there, right under your skin, and no amount of sitcoms or bright lights could chase it away.

Then, there was a noise. It was soft—just a slight scraping sound, barely audible over the TV. You paused, holding your breath, the room suddenly too quiet. There it was again, like metal against metal. You strained to listen, every nerve in your body on edge.

It was coming from the door.

You felt the cold rush of fear, your body going rigid. You knew better than to ignore it. Slowly, you crept toward the door, your footsteps silent on the carpet. The peephole felt too small, like it couldn’t possibly show you the truth of what lay beyond. You hesitated, hand hovering just above the doorknob.

The scraping stopped.

And then, there was a knock.

Three slow, deliberate taps. Each one sent a shiver down your spine. You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Your mind raced, a thousand thoughts crashing together. Was it him? Could he really have found you?

“Hello?” you called out, your voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would invite something in. No answer. Just silence, heavy and pressing.

You pressed your eye to the peephole, holding your breath. At first, you saw nothing but darkness—just the dim glow of the hallway light. Then, slowly, a figure came into view. A man, standing still, his face obscured by shadows. You couldn’t make out any details, but you knew.

It was him.

Panic surged through you, and you stumbled back, heart pounding so hard you thought it might burst. Your mind screamed at you to call someone—anyone—but your fingers fumbled with the phone, the screen slick in your sweaty grip.

Then, the knocking started again. Louder this time, more insistent. And you knew, deep down, that Steve wasn’t going to leave.

With a trembling hand, you typed a message to Rachel. He’s here. You pressed send, praying she’d answer, praying she’d know what to do, because you were out of options.

The door rattled as the handle turned, and you backed away, feeling the walls press in, the fear tightening like a noose around your throat. Steve’s voice, quiet and low, drifted through the door.

“I know you’re in there. We need to talk.”

You felt the world narrow to that single point, every instinct screaming at you to run. But there was nowhere to go. You were trapped. And as his voice filled the silence, you knew this wasn’t over—it was only just beginning.

You bolted to the kitchen, clutching your phone as you moved. You fumbled to find the knife drawer, hands shaking as you yanked it open and grabbed the first one your fingers touched. It wasn’t much—a small paring knife, its blade reflecting the overhead light—but it felt like a lifeline, a piece of steel against the terror thrumming in your veins.

Your phone buzzed, and you glanced down. It was Rachel. Call the police. I’m on my way. Relief flooded through you, but it was quickly replaced by dread as Steve’s voice echoed again from the hallway.

“Why are you hiding?” he asked, his tone soft, almost pleading, as if you were the one being unreasonable. “You know I just want to talk, right? We need to fix this. I love you.”

The words felt like poison, winding through your chest. You squeezed your eyes shut, leaning against the counter for support. You’d heard those words so many times before, when he still had a hold on you, when you still believed they meant something real. But now they sounded like a threat..

You dialed 911, your fingers trembling as you pressed the phone to your ear. The operator’s voice was calm, clinical, as you whispered, “There’s someone outside my door. I think he’s trying to get in.”

“Stay calm, ma’am. Can you confirm your address for me?” You rattled off your location, the words spilling out in a rush. “We’re sending a unit now. Stay on the line.”

You nodded, even though she couldn’t see you, clutching the phone tighter as you crouched down behind the kitchen counter. Steve was still at the door, his voice a low murmur, like he was talking to himself now. You strained to catch the words.

“…always trying to push me away… like I’m the bad guy…”

You felt the burn of tears in your eyes, but you forced them back. You couldn’t let him see you cry. That was what he wanted—to see you break, to know he still had power over you. But you were done giving him that.

Minutes dragged by, each one feeling like an eternity. You clung to the operator’s voice, her calm instructions grounding you in the reality of the moment. You were no longer the person who used to cling to Steve’s words, hoping he would change, hoping he’d be the man you once thought he was. You were someone different now—someone who had learned to survive.

The pounding at the door grew louder, and you felt the kitchen walls closing in as Steve’s patience ran out. “Open the door!” he shouted, and the sound of his fist slamming against the wood made you flinch. “You can’t keep ignoring me!”

You gripped the knife tighter, crouched down as small as you could, the sound of his rage vibrating through you. You tried to focus on the operator’s voice, the promise that help was coming, that you weren’t alone. But Steve’s shouts filled the apartment, drowning everything out.

A loud crash came from the door, and your heart leapt to your throat. You peeked around the corner, just in time to see the wood splintering under his weight as he slammed his shoulder into it. Fear surged, your mind screaming at you to run, but there was nowhere left to go. You were trapped.

“Ma’am, are you still there?” the operator’s voice cut through the chaos. “Officers are only a few minutes away. Stay with me.”

The door buckled again, the wood cracking. You knew you didn’t have minutes. You had seconds. Steve’s shouts were growing louder, more frantic. You backed up, knife in hand, feeling the walls press in.

Then, a sudden burst of noise—a new sound. Sirens. You heard them faintly at first, then louder, echoing down the street. You watched as Steve paused, his face twisted in frustration as he realized what was happening.

“No,” he muttered, his hands still pressed against the door. “No, this isn’t over.”

But you could see the shift in him, the way he hesitated, caught between his anger and the fear of being caught. The sirens were louder now, and you heard the slam of car doors, voices shouting orders.

Steve turned, and you watched through the peephole as he fled down the hallway. Relief crashed over you, so strong you almost collapsed. You stayed where you were, heart still racing, until you heard the knock on your door—a different knock this time, firm and authoritative.

“Police! Ma’am, are you in there?”

You scrambled to your feet, rushing to the door and fumbling with the locks. You pulled it open, and the sight of the officers standing there—two of them, their hands resting on their weapons—made you sag with relief.

“He was here,” you breathed, feeling the tears finally spill over. “He was trying to get in.”

One officer nodded, stepping forward to guide you out of the apartment. “We’ll take care of it. We need you to stay with us for a moment, okay?”

You nodded, letting them lead you out into the hallway, your legs shaky beneath you. As you stepped out, you caught sight of Rachel rushing through the lobby doors, her face pale with worry. She sprinted toward you, pulling you into a tight hug.

For the first time in months, you felt a flicker of safety, like maybe, just maybe, things would be okay. But even as Rachel held you, her voice soothing in your ear, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the end.

Because as you looked back at your apartment door, the wood still splintered and broken, you knew Steve was out there. And he wasn’t going to stop.

Long time no see💛. I have so much to catch y'all up on. But in the meantime hit up my ask inbox. I would love to chat ✨

[navybrat817]

Incandescent

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Steve Rogers x Female Reader, Bucky Barnes x Female Reader x Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes Summary: Bucky and Steve try to put on a show for you. Word Count: Over 1.7k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, implied vaginal and anal sex, threesome, bondage, dirty talk, tension, polyamory, possessive behavior, porn with feels (it’s me, c’mon), tattooed Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers (they’re warnings, okay?) A/N: Welcome back to my Howling Commandos Tattoo AU! Have you missed them? I know I have! I was nervous posting this as this my first dive into dynamics with Steve and Bucky, but I love it. If that isn't your jam, feel free to skip! ❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @whisperlullaby ​but any and all mistakes are my own. Banner created by yours truly, but Bucky and Steve photos were provided by the talented @nixakimbo ! Divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky and Steve were your world. You weren’t afraid to voice that. In fact, you were proud to be on their arms when you were out together. You had their hearts and vice versa. You were their best girl. Their Blossom. Nothing would ever change that.

But once you got your hands on them, you were going to strangle them. Not enough to inflict real damage. You would never. You loved them. But they were going to feel some sort of wrath.

Fucking tattooed bastards.

You struggled against the binds, your wrists bound tight enough to keep you from escaping, but not enough to hurt you. Like you wouldn't hurt your boys, they would never harm you either. Your core throbbed enough to ache when they knelt on each side of you and faced each other on the bed.

Why did I let them talk me into tying me up? Damn them and their persuasiveness.

As Bucky moved his hand upwards to cup Steve's cheek, they smiled. From their profiles, you caught a hint of playfulness and something deeper before their lips met. A bond between two men who had been through hell and back together. Somehow you became their heaven on earth, allowing them to be with you and each other. And wasn't that the beauty in your relationship? Boundlessly loving and trusting each other?

No. I will not get mushy. Not when I'm frustrated.

Bucky’s tongue darted out to lick along Steve’s bottom lip as he pulled away. “I think Blossom wants a taste,” he said, turning his head to wink at you. Had you voiced your frustrations out loud or did he know you well enough that being a mere spectator wouldn't be enough today?

Both.

“And she’ll get one when we’re ready,” Steve stated, a sympathetic smile on his face as he gazed down at you. You wondered if he was secretly a sadist since he seemed to take pleasure in your current “pain”. “We made you too greedy, didn’t we, sweetheart?”

You squinted, trying your best to glare when they chuckled at your predicament. “You know why I’m greedy? Because you two can’t keep your hands off me OR your tongues, fingers, and cocks out of me. Excuse me for getting a bit used to it when you're to blame.”

Steve chuckled at that, not disagreeing with you.

He better not. I'm right.

A coo left Bucky’s mouth as he leaned down, his lips moving along your cheek before they stopped at your ear. “Who said we’re not giving you our tongues, fingers, AND cocks? Stevie and I just wanna have a little fun first while you watch. Is that so bad? Hmm?”

You whined in response, your hips rising and pussy begging for attention. Mandy joked that your libido was in permanent overdrive thanks to your boys and she wasn’t wrong. Your body craved and welcomed them. They fit like a glove, missing pieces that made you whole.

It was also a sight watching them. The view alone would've been enough to disintegrate your panties had they not destroyed them already. But tying you up so you couldn’t touch? Not even a small feel of Bucky’s bicep or Steve’s chest? It was cruel and unusual punishment and there would be retribution. Those bastards would rue the day.

No clue how, but they will.

“Do you need to touch us that badly? Are you that desperate for us?” Steve asked, raising an eyebrow when Bucky leaned back up.

“Yes! Have you seen you two?” You asked as they shifted their gazes to look each other over. They shed their clothes before they bound you to the headboard, giving you a chance to admire them. Hard muscles, sculpted tattoo gods, one blonde and one brunette. “You were created for at least one person in the world to worship you and drive people insane.”

“Aww, I think she wants to worship us,” Bucky smiled, gliding a hand down Steve’s chest. You watched the blonde swiftly inhale, knowing how much he loved the slow drag down his body. “What do you think?”

“Buck,” Steve groaned when Bucky firmly wrapped a hand around his cock.

“Maybe you can fuck my throat first?” The brunette suggested, lazily pumping him as you bit your lip. “Or at least let me get my mouth around it. Get your cock sloppy and wet before you fuck our girl.”

“Please,” you moaned, unable to spread your legs any further since they were still planted on either side. “I need it.”

If begging is what it takes, I'll do it.

“Or you can suck my cock before I fuck her? I know you love watching me slide in and out of her sweet pussy. She always takes me so well,” Bucky went on, Steve’s eyes slipping shut as he began to leave open mouth kisses on his neck. You understood why Steve shivered. Bucky had a very talented mouth. “Too bad she can’t touch herself while she watches like last time.”

Yeah. Too fucking bad.

“Touch her, Buck,” Steve ordered, making you and Bucky gasp when he gripped his hair and pulled him back with a smirk. “Slip those fingers in her cunt and show me how soaked she is from the sight of us.”

You were fairly certain that Bucky and Steve were the only men in the world who could speak about you like you weren’t there and get you hot and bothered. They didn’t have to touch you to prove how wet you were, but you weren’t going to stop Bucky from curling his digits inside you. Especially when Steve gave the order in that deep, husky tone.

“Please, Bucky?” You asked sweetly, raising your hips again. “I know I've been a little mouthy and impatient, but please? Show Stevie how wet my pretty pussy is?”

You shrieked when Bucky’s hand suddenly came down on your throbbing cunt, the smack loud in your ears. “Not your pussy, doll. It’s ours. Now be good and open up,” he said, his voice rough as he bent down and spread your lips apart with one hand, the other still pumping Steve’s hard cock. “Our pussy really is pretty. What a fucking sight.”

“You gonna apologize for calling our pussy yours?” Steve questioned, arching into Bucky’s touch the moment he slipped two fingers inside your wet hole. It hardly stung, the relief as he thrust his fingers making you whimper. “I think you owe us one.”

“Okay. I'm sorry, you fucking tattooed bastards,” you said, smiling dreamily at Steve when he narrowed his eyes. He said to apologize, but didn’t say anything about getting mouthy. Again.

“And this is why we tied you up,” he said, wiping the smile off your face. “You beautiful brat.”

Not fair.

“Oh. Now you’re being mean, Steve,” Bucky said, smirking when he brushed a thumb over your swollen clit. “But I’m not mean, doll. Gimme a few minutes and I’ll get my mouth on your perfect tits. Love hearing you whimper when I drag your nipples between my teeth.”

You shuddered with your next breath, your breasts lightly shaking with your exhale. Both sets of eyes on you darkened at the movement, your cheeks hot as you squirmed. Maybe being tied up wasn’t such a bad thing after all. It didn’t give you a chance to hide from their hungry gazes. It left you open, vulnerable, ready for whatever they gave you.

And you’d take it all because you were strong and eager enough, just like they took everything you gave them. It made sense why you were their Blossom. You bloomed into the person you were now and they helped you continue to grow. In some ways, you did the same for them.

“And who said I’m not getting a taste of anything?” Steve said, batting Bucky’s hand away from his cock. “Take your fingers out.”

Bucky swiftly removed them, making you whine at the loss. A punched sound came from your gut a heartbeat later when Steve gripped Bucky’s wrist and sucked his fingers into his mouth with a grunt, not stopping until they were clean. “I may not need to get your dick wet if she's that soaked. You might be able to slide on in while I fuck you.”

Fuck, please.

It was Bucky’s turn to tremble when Steve nipped at his earlobe. “I think you’d like that. Me at your back. Her at your front. Both of us loving you the way you deserve,” he said, before he turned a fond gaze your way. One that made your throat go dry. “Loving each other the way we all deserve. I know our best girl would agree.”

“Of course, I do,” you whispered. That wasn't lust speaking, but the pure adoration you had for them.

“I love you both so much,” Bucky said without fear or hesitation, his blue eyes sparkling with joy.

You stopped shifting against the mattress, tears threatening to clog your throat. How could they simultaneously turn you on and resort you to happy crying? They made your heart and holes full.

“Love you both, too,” you said, your chest rising and falling with your next breath. “And I’ll be good and watch until you’re ready for me.”

Bucky swooped down to catch your parted lips with his. Heat surged through your body as his tongue fervently tasted your mouth. As quickly as it began, it stopped so Steve’s mouth could replace his. It was just as demanding and hungry as Bucky’s before they turned their attention back to each other, leaving you a panting mess as you watched captivated as they licked and sucked, their kiss rough and desperate.

You knew exactly how they felt.

Steve’s hand closed around Bucky’s cock, swallowing down his groan of pleasure as you could only look on. You found yourself smiling again as they got lost in each other, each of them making sure to keep a hand on you. They were beautiful. They were yours. And they were your home.

Still might strangle them a bit once I’m free. Nah. I’ll just sit on their faces. Much better way to suffocate them.

Until they took care of you, you’d enjoy the show.

Blossom already has a revenge plan brewing. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Stucky Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[biohazzrds]

The yellow rabbit

[seatnights]

Who are some of your favorite fan fiction writers?

i spent hours to collect usernames of authors i enjoyed reading from, and i’m sure i missed some, but i tried.

are u ready for this?

authors you SHOULD support:

oneforthemunny / icallhimjoey / jamdoughnutmagician / rosebudsgarden / willowsgri / joequinnisgod / eddiemunsons80sbaby / chrrymunson / eddiemunsonswhxre / lonelysatellites / loveshotzz / usedtobecooler / carolmunson / upsidedownwithsteve / sherifftillman / spicysix / emsgoodthinkin / retrobutterflies / tiannasfanfic / athena-writes-i-guess / shesinchargeareyoukidding / cooliestghouliest / singularattitudeofasafetypin / babybluebex / quinnyfairy / moonchildquinn / i-me-mine / luveline / myosotisa / silent-stories / blueywrites / steviesbicrisis / munson-blurbs / ficsbypix / lovejosephquinn / eddieschains / prettyboyeddiemunson / eddieandbird /pleasantlycrazyworld / corroded-hellfire / trashmouth-richie / justmeinadaze / mopeymopeymouse / munsonslilbunnie / keeponquinning / gatorstillman / allthingsjoeq / jadeylovesmarvelxo / mysticmunson / sugarsblurbs / taintedcigs / gag-me-munson / gravedigginbbydoll / ratskcoreddie / andvys / manicpixiedreamcurl / thruheavenandhighwater / joejoequinnquinn / munsonsreputation / upsidedownmvnson / hellfiresmaster / elightysixbaby / eddiessluttywaist / littledemondani / choke-me-eddie / eddiemunsonsmum / eddiemunsonfuxks / pinkrelish / hllfireclb / indulgence-be-thy-name / wheels-of-despair / hellfiremunsonn / filthyjoetini / ghost-proofbaby / havecourage-darling / forever-rogue / queenimmadolla / josephfakingquinn / roanniom / bimbobaggins69 / songforeddiemunson / munsons-hellfire / honey-flustered / eddie-van-munson / storiesbyrhi / lovebugism / neonghostlights / harrywavycurly / chestylarouxx / courtingchaos / galaxy-siren / harringtons-cupid / hard-candy-writing / wroteclassicaly / raccoonboywrites / dr-aculaaa / palomahasenteredthechat / palomahasenteredthechat / forevermoreharrington / corrodedcorpses / strangerquinns / sunnythevampireslayer / lesservillain / stevenose / eddiesxangel / stveharringtn / spookysteddie / keeksandgigz / darlingsfandom / her-power / idkidknemore / francisquinn / inkluvs / ashwhowrites / hellfire--cult / succubusmunson / v8mpstamp / stevieswhore / munsons-maiden / rustboxstarr / corrodedseraphine / reidsbtch / lexlec / katiemcrae / the-unforgivenn / keerysfolklore / appocalipse / familyvideowithsteve / tiannamortis / joekeeryswife / bettyfrommars / cinemamunson / munson-mjstan / teddyeyeseddie / lofaewrites / mediocredreams / leasstories

OK SO

here we have 137 authors, i didn’t tag anyone cuz i would probably have disturbed half of the fandom, sorry if it’s more difficult this way, but i hope i could help you a bit.

obviously, there’s no order of preference of any kind, and i tried to put as many authors as i could but i know i’ve missed someone. if i did, i’m deeply sorry, it wasn’t on purpose and i have nothing against you! if you wish you can message me or slide in my ask and ill add you immediately!

now, i’m a bit tired after all of this, and my hand hurts but:

DON’T FORGET TO SUPPORT THE AUTHORS!!!

they put their works for free!!! everyone can enjoy media and content for free thanks to them! and it cost you nothing to reblog and share their work.

thank you for every creators / writers/ artist out there to make every single works of yours and sharing them with the world. all of you deserve so much, and thanks to you for so many people the day gets better, it’s like having a sweet little treat, like taking care of yourself, like finding a place where you are understood. so, thank you infinitely. keep it up cause you’re doing amazing!

-🤍🌻🌱

[munsonsreputation]

I THINK THERES BEEN A GLITCH

CHAPTER SIX: GLORIOUS HAPPENINGS OF HAPPENSTANCE

↢ chapter five | series masterlist | chapter seven ↣

🎧 soundtrack

steve harrington x fem!baker + artist

word count: [13.2K]

warnings: no use of y/n, cursing, idiots pining, shitty ex being an idiot, talks of anxiety/panic attack, overall fluff

summary: the small town of hawkins finally hosts their first official farmers market, but it certainly wouldn't be a town affair without some drama and saboteurs.

You wanted to soak it all in, let it bathe you in the rays of the sunlight, blanketing you in a warmth that you never wanted to forget. The plush of his lips against yours, chest to chest with your hearts beating in synchrony, hands gripping you closer and closer until—

“Rise and shine, lovebirds!”

You groaned, sinking your face deeper into Steve’s chest, pulling the covers over your head in an attempt to go back to the dream that was ebbing away by the second. Steve raised his head off the pillow, staring at the group of children who crowded the end of his bed with shit-eating grins like they had won the lottery.

“Get the heck out!” Steve hissed sharply, eyes going wide, silently telling them all to leave that instant.

The kids clearly didn’t know anything about personal space. The act of knocking on a door or ringing the doorbell was a foreign concept to them. Matter a fact, it was an accurate depiction of what went down yesterday afternoon. And while Steve never minded the kids and their shenanigans, it was the very first time he genuinely wished they had considered minding their own business for his sake. 

“Please,” were the last words Steve had whispered to you.

The gap was nearly closed, lips inches away and your eyes fluttering shut letting in the daylight that you were both ready to step into, but that all changed at the clamoring of voices in the distance followed by the creak of the rusty garden gates. 

“Holy shit!” They chorused in unison, halting in their tracks seeing you and Steve entangled in each other’s arms in the middle of the pool, closer than you two have ever gotten before.

“Oh, my god!” You shrieked, nearly drifting away from Steve at the shock, trying to keep yourself upright in the deep end. 

He seized you, hugging you to his chest where you simultaneously hid your face with its flushed embarrassment in the crook of his neck.

“What the hell are you guys doing here?” Steve barked, staring at them with those eyes that told them all that they really messed up big time.

“We—Mrs. Byers said she was over and we wanted to stop by to say hello!” Dustin stuttered, pointing at you yet feeling regretful for letting himself and his friends in with the memorized padlock code.

“Why didn’t you try the front door!” Steve continued to argue, still clearly agitated at their ambush, torn between showing them out of this backyard or sticking there with you.

Mike tilted his head, evidently unbothered by the situation of invading Steve’s personal space, because in his eyes, the babysitter never needed personal space to begin with.

“We did, but you guys didn’t answer and Max didn’t have a bobby pin on her to pick the lock.” He replied dryly, going over to the loungers to make himself comfortable like nothing even happened. 

“B-but we can go! We’ll bike back home and tell mom we’ll see you guys tomorrow,” El’s voice piped up, coated with sincere remorse, quickly snatching Mike’s hand to pull him out of the chair.

Sure, the kids totally interrupted what would have been you and Steve’s first kiss, but they didn’t know that. If they were some sort of fortune tellers that would have known, you were sure they wouldn’t have barged in unexpectedly.

You finally pulled yourself away from the hiding spot in Steve’s collar, looking at the kids with the softest eyes, holding your open hand out towards them causing them to stop in their tracks.

“No — you guys don’t have to go!” You started taking a deep breath to tear your eyes away from them to look at Steve, doing your best to communicate in the silence to which he nodded slowly, mouthing ‘sorry’ to you.

He let out a deep sigh, closing his eyes for a moment to settle his annoyance before opening them and jutting his chin towards the back door.

“Don’t touch anything in the kitchen. That’s all for the bake sale tomorrow. Raid the pantry for all I care, but I’m not cleaning up after you guys!” He shouted and before he could finish the children were racing past the sliding door leaving you both alone only this time graced with their shouts from the inside.

You let out a shaky breath, wincing at how you suddenly became aware of the position you and Steve had been in for quite some time. You met his eyes worriedly, shrinking your shoulders in self consciously.

“I—Did I mess it up?”

His head rocked back and forth without missing a beat, assuring you with a genuine look of sincerity, “Of course not. I meant what I said, you know.”

Steve flashed you a comforting smile, fingers pressing gently into your skin as you relaxed your shoulders.

“We’ll talk about it? Us, I mean… when we’re alone?” He tried hoping you wouldn’t let it end like this.

“Please.” You nodded, running your hands over his shoulder blades, passing each other a hopeful smile for whatever was to come.

Only you and Steve didn’t get any alone time to talk about it.

The teens had spent the afternoon bathing in the sunlight, taking full advantage of Steve’s stocked snack pile and the swimming pool. And by the time you were acting as referee and giggling while they raced across the water, all the initial irritation Steve had felt dissipated — that and the fact that he got to throw Dustin in the water for payback.

But the afternoon had blurred into the night, leaving you and Steve as acting babysitters when they decided they were too tired to bike home and Steve was definitely too tired to drop each of them off. After you all washed yourselves clean of the chlorine and sunscreen, you ordered pizza while Steve set up the new tape in the living room.

It was a rom-com, “Can’t Buy Me Love”, something he thought you both would enjoy with each other, but the kids seemed to like it too — the boys more so tolerating it, preferring to be playing video games in the Wheeler basement, but the girls were thoroughly entertained, you would have been too, if it weren’t for the fatigue dragging your eyelids shut.

You and Steve were practically smushed together on the couch, your legs thrown across his lap and your cheek pressed to his bicep. His hand kneading the skin from your shin to your knee, bringing you closer to sleep despite the loud talking from the kids.

Steve had noticed your quietness, peering down at you and seeing the state you were in — eyes shut as soft snores left your mouth, your hands hugging yourself acting as a blanket.

“Sweetheart,” He tried, wiggling his shoulder a bit to see if you’d wake up, but to no avail you remained glued to his side.

“C’mon,” He carefully positioned one of his arms under your legs while the other cradled your head, “Let’s get you to bed.” He murmured quietly, slowly standing up from the couch with you in his arms.

He turned back, looking at the kids whose attention was on you two now. They weren’t surprised to say the least, considering the position you two were in just a couple of hours ago, but they just wondered what was taking you both so long to finally put a label on it.

“You guys make sure you clean up and turn off the TV when it’s finished. We got an early day tomorrow, alright?”

They nodded, waving and whispering their goodnights as he walked up the stairs and to his bedroom. Using his elbow, he nudged the lights on, padding to his bed and laying you gently on the mattress, before gathering the blankets and pulling them over your shoulders.

You shuffle, instinctively closer to the opposite side of the bed to make space for him as you lifted your arms from beneath the covers, making weak grabby hands at him. He chuckled, taking hold of them and winding his fingers between yours that instantly gave him a feeble squeeze.

“I’ll stay okay?” He promised, letting go and tucking your hands back underneath the covers before he went to switch off the lights and take his spot beside you.

And like second nature you settled into his side and he pulled you in a little closer — sleep came easy and he wanted to savor the feeling and bottle it up for those lonely nights he spent tossing and turning he was sure were long gone by now. All there was left was you and him, and he’d be forever grateful to spend every night in his bed with you, even in the aura of his empty house. 

Dustin sauntered over to the windows, seeing as though you and Steve were making no plans to actually get up and get going. He swiped the curtains back, letting in more of the sunlight, smiling to himself as you began moving around under the covers and Steve rubbed at his eyes — surely you both were awake now.

“It’s almost 8 and we’re supposed to be at Hawkins Square at 9.” Dustin crossed his arms over his chest, tapping his foot against the floors like some kind of parental figure, if Steve wasn’t so tired, he’d poke a little fun at how he was sorta taking after him. 

But instead he sat up on his elbows, staring at the kid ridiculously, finger pointing towards the door, “Out.”

Max smirked, walking over to her friend and leading him away by tugging on his sleeve and urging the rest of her friends to follow along and leave you two alone.

“Cut him some slack and let him cuddle with his girl for a few more minutes.” She snickered, not missing the sight of Steve’s cheeks flushing. 

Dustin gripped the doorframe, fingers slipping weakly as Max gave him another keen tug, pulling the door handle with her as Dustin shouted out quickly.

“Nance said she’s coming over in fifteen to pick up some stuff, so you better be up!”

The door slammed shut, jolting your half awake self fully up this time. Steve let out a deep breath, falling back against the mattress, apologetically whispering out to you as he closed the space once again.

You twisted in the sheets, throwing one of your arms across his back to tug yourself closer into his chest while the other lifted the blankets off your head from where you were hiding.

Despite the rude awakening, you were sure you could fall right back asleep from the warmth radiating off of Steve alone. He had that effect, the ability to be your personal sanctuary even in the midst of the chaos. While the idea of letting you drift back into dreamland was sweet enough as lying there beside you, he couldn’t possibly let you two run late.

“Cupcake,” He whispered, a warm hand moving down to massage your collarbone gently to spur you awake, “we gotta get up.”

Your fingers threaded into the material of his t-shirt, grabbing him tenderly as a sleepy whine knitted with your mumbling poured out, “Ten more minutes?”

His chest rumbled beneath you with a laugh, “Sorry honey, but we can’t. Nancy is dropping by in a bit to pick up some stuff.”

Taking in a deep breath, you took him in. The smell of his laundry detergent and body wash filling your nostrils. The mix of the two and the knowing that Steve was still there beside you, enough to wake your bones up and want to spend the rest of the day with him and your friends.

“Mmmm,” You pulled away, stretching your arms out, yawning for a few seconds as he watched you, until your eyes opened and met his. 

“Morning.” You greeted with a tired smile, blinking your eyes again trying to rid them of the sleepiness.

“Hey sweet thing,” He scooted back against his headboard, patting his chest, motioning for you to lay your head there because at the very least he could spare just five more minutes savoring the morning with you.

You got comfortable, looking up at him through your lashes, fingers mindlessly tracing fingers over his shirt, just enjoying the sight that seemed to be a special rarity now. Waking up in Steve’s bed was certainly not something you had grown accustomed to, but it was a nice feeling. Knowing that he had fallen asleep beside you, dreamt along with you, and now lay awake with you in his arms – a special kind of intimacy he saved for you. 

“Did I fall asleep?” You didn’t remember coming up to Steve’s bedroom by yourself let alone finishing the movie last night.

He hummed, his fingers a mirror to yours, moving over your shoulders affectionately, “A little less than halfway through the movie, then I carried you up here. The kids crashed in the living room.”

A warm smile spread across your features, always swooned by Steve’s consideration even when at this point you shouldn’t expect anything less of him. Trailing your fingers away from his midsection, you walked them up his collarbones, fingers thumbing the freckles on his chin that you were just admiring yesterday afternoon.

“You’re too sweet to me.” You let your touch stay on him without worry, doing everything besides meeting his eyes, too enamored by the beauty marks you had come to adore.

“I always will be,” His eyes glazed over with affection that not even words could describe.

Yet if there was the time, he would try to do it, to tell you how much he adored you and finally muster up the strength to let all his feelings loose. But despite how tempting that idea was, he knew it wasn’t the right time for it.

The kids would probably burst in at any given moment to get you both up again or worse, Nancy would already be downstairs shouting at the poor use of time given the special day.

“Do you wanna get dibs on the bathroom first?” Steve suggested, hoping it didn’t seem like he was purposefully steering the conversation elsewhere. 

You nodded, sitting up to stretch your arms wide with another yawn. “Just to brush my teeth, then you can get ready first. I’ll get the kids fed and the stuff ready for Nance.” You threw the covers off and let your feet hit the wooden floorboards.

He watched you gather your things while he began making his bed, pulling the sheets up and straightening it out.

“You sure? Usually they’re a lot in the morning.” 

“Take a break for once, yeah?” You reminded him with a tsk, “Isn’t that what you’ve been telling me?” 

He mocked out a laugh, shooing you out the room as you giggled and shut the door behind you. 

You took the bathroom first, brushing your teeth and combing your fingers through your hair just to get it to look somewhat put together before you actually had the chance to get ready for the day. As you exited the bathroom, you knocked on his door, signaling his turn before you jogged down the stairs, pleasantly surprised to see it so tidy without any reminder.

The blankets were folded and stacked on one end of the couch, as the other had a pile of pillows. The candy wrappers that littered the coffee table were no longer there and the tape that Steve picked was already back in its case ready to be returned.

You could hear their voices coming from the kitchen, groans and complaints echoing through the house as you rounded the doorway, quietly watching the scene before you with a self-indulgent smile.

Domestic chaos, as each of them called out different pantry items hoping everyone had an idea of what to make — just tired, hungry teenagers craving a proper meal to get them through the day.

“Good morning squirrels,” you chirped, finally making your presence known as you crossed the boundary into the kitchen.

“Morning,” they chorused, relieved looks washing over their faces knowing you’d be there to save their Saturday morning.

“Hungry?” You lovingly ruffled their heads as they made way for you to get into the fridge.

“We’re starving! But Steve said we aren’t allowed to eat any of the stuff for the bake sale, and Dustin and Mike ate all the pizza while we were sleeping.” Lucas shot the pair a glare. 

“We did ask you if you wanted a slice.” Mike defended, nudging the curly-headed boy who agreed.

“It was one in the morning, Michael.”

You shook your head, amused at their silly banter that continued while you opened the fridge, scoping out what you could whip up in a limited amount of time but still give them enough energy throughout the busy day. 

There were a few eggs left in the carton and more than enough tangerines to go around, plus a half bag of white bread that was going to go stale in a few days. You took the ingredients out, laying them on the counters as you turned to the kids and rubbed your hands together.

“Why don’t I whip something up, huh? You guys can go watch TV in the living room while you wait or you guys can stay and help if you’d like.”

You waited less than a second, fully prepared to see them rush the television, but instead they stood in their places, nodding and waiting for you to give them instructions on what to do. Surely enough, the kids didn’t like the idea of knocking on doors or ringing doorbells, but they did know how to lend a helping hand, making up for it all.

Soon the kitchen was filled with their voices, talking up a storm even in the early morning hours as you stood over the stove, trying to recreate Steve’s famous scrambled eggs all while listening to their teenage updates on life.

Will and Max juiced the remaining tangerines, sticky fingers squeezing it until the pulp gave out and the pitcher was filled nearly to the brim.

Lucas was sharing his own recipe, guiding El step by step as put the slices of bread slathered with butter and a good shaking of cinnamon into the toaster oven, making an easy and delicious cinnamon bread concoction.

Dustin and Mike set the table but of course not without a little more bickering, one wanting to use paper plates to reduce the dishes to be washed and the other wanting to use the ceramics because it wasn’t everyday they got to eat a fancy breakfast, even if it was just scrambled eggs and cinnamon toast.

Rest assured, you ironed away Mike’s worries about the dishwashing task, telling him you’d wash and let them air dry while you and Steve were gone. For the past week you’d been doing dishes nonstop and a few more wouldn’t hurt, plus you were starting to feel some muscle grow after all that scrubbing.

The glasses were filled with ice and juice, plates served with a good helping of eggs and one and a half slices of cinnamon bread. They finally took their seats, a little cramped together, but nonetheless they dug in.

“Eat up.” 

You knew that the boys had been close to one another ever since childhood and it wasn’t until middle school that El and Max had entered the picture, but even through all the phases that came with growing up, it warmed your heart to see them still be fully involved with each other’s lives.

El chewed up her food, looked over her shoulder at you before she spoke happily, “The cupcakes look yummy!” she praised, having seen it in the fridge when she chilled the pitcher.

“Steve frosted them! He's a total natural at it if you ask me.” You winked.

The kids looked at you torn between surprise and speculation that he actually did a decent job on them with zero prior experience.

“Well, I bet they taste delicious.” Will said, knowing that there wasn’t anything their babysitter couldn’t do.

“After everything gets set up, I’ll let you guys pick some freebies alright?” You offered, and they all nodded, mumbling out a “thanks,” in advance.

In the meantime, you shuffled around the kitchen, gathering spare brown bags and loading them up with the scones and cookies so Nancy could take them to the event ahead of time. You made sure to jot down the ingredients for each of the goods on index cards just in case any customers were curious or had allergies.

The kids ate with some comfortable chatter while you were busy before Dustin cleared his throat, catching your eyes as you placed the full bags near the doorway.

“So you and Steve, huh?” He smirked, wiggling his brows teasingly while he rested his elbows on the table as if he was getting down to business.

You groaned, rolling your eyes as you brushed past the table and headed for the sink. “I’m so not talking to teenagers about my love life.”

He tsk’ed loudly, “Why not? I give the best advice! When Suzie and I got together, I did all the right things and made her swoon.” He bragged before the red head cut in abruptly.

Max furrowed her brows, turning to him.

“Didn’t she just break up with you because you didn’t call for a week?”

His friends looked at him, eyes being able to see through the facade that Dustin was the most perfect boyfriend out of all of them.

“That doesn’t count! No one would take me to weather top and it’s way too hot to hike up there with everything all by myself.” He argued as everyone else uttered their disagreements and shook their heads.

You snorted, shaking your head at the boy as you dried your hands.

“Well, I’m happy for you and Suz, but I think Steve and I got our thing handled.” You assured him, giving his shoulder a pat.

“Oh, it’s more than handled. We just were waiting for you two to finally make a move on each other.” Mike piped in, chugging the rest of his juice.

Lucas jumped in not long after, huffing dramatically as he spoke, “I mean first the crushing, then the pining, and then the yearning… god you guys took forever!”

El, with her ever so cheery voice, bursted with a wide smile, looking at you kindly. “Well, I’m glad it finally happened. You and Steve are perfect for each other and make an even more perfect couple!”

Perhaps it didn’t hit you until the word fell out of her mouth… couple, and when it did, it hit you like a ton of bricks. The topic alone wasn’t something that you and Steve even got to properly talk about — it was just hanging in the air waiting for you or Steve to snatch and finally discuss.

In the eyes of the teenagers and even the rest of the gang, you and Steve already did the couple-y things. Spending the night at each other’s places, gushing about each other even when the other wasn’t around, shy touches that you suspected no one else could catch, and being around each other every chance you got.

The thoughts alone nearly sucked you in completely, not even aware of how Mike and Dustin argued over the fact that Steve hadn’t even asked you out yet. It was only when the doorbell began ringing through the house that you were suddenly aware of everything.

You shuffled on your feet, choosing to ignore the children and their nonsense as you went to get the door. Swinging it open, you smiled from ear to ear, already engulfing the person on the other side into the biggest hug.

“Nance!”

“Oh, I really needed this!” She exhaled, smiling into your neck where she hugged you just as tight, “Thank you again for helping out.”

“It’s no problem, plus, it wasn’t so much work with Steve helping me. Have you eaten?” You asked, raising your brow.

“No, I’ve been busy around, calling and checking in with the other booths—"

You stopped her, reaching for her wrist.

“How about you come in and get some food before you head off, yeah?”

She smiled thankfully, following your lead as you pulled her inside and closed the door behind her, waiting as she unlaced her shoes and walked with you to the kitchen.

Thankfully, the kids had moved on from their conversation about you and Steve, somehow now talking about the movie they had watched yesterday. You really didn’t want to tell Nancy about it with them all around — eventually you’d tell her, but preferably when they weren’t around to hear all the details.

“Everyone say good morning to Nance! It’s a big day for her and she’s going to do amazing!”

You rubbed her shoulders, kissing her cheek playfully as she laughed and leaned into you.

“C’mon and eat.” Max gestured her over, scooting onto El’s chair as they made more room at the table.

Nance nudged her brother, raising her brow at him. “You didn’t tell me you guys were spending the night here.”

“It wasn’t the plan, but we were too lazy to bike home. I called mom, and she said it was fine.” 

Her eyes darted to yours with a questioning look, “They didn’t give you any trouble, right?”

You shook your head, looking around at all of them who half expected you to bring up the little afternoon incident.

“None at all… just making me feel old.” You joked, watching as they all eased up and laughed.

After a while, the kids had finished their helpings, beginning to stack the plates and cups taking it over to the sink before you assured them they all helped enough and you could handle one more load of dishes before you’d be clocking out for the next week.

Nancy hummed, reaching into her purse and finishing out the keys, tossing it over to Max.

“Why don’t you guys load up the car and while you’re at it, load yourselves up too because I need some extra hands.”

Their groans of protests about wanting to ride with you and Steve to the event were ignored as Nancy shooed them off. You flashed them all an encouraging smile, watching as they picked up the bags you prepped and waved goodbye before they were all out the front door.

When you heard it shut, you immediately darted over to Nancy, taking the empty seat beside her as you screeched as quietly as you could and reached for her hand, grasping it with a tight squeeze.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Her eyes went wide, promptly setting down her fork as she jostled your held hands in the air.

Your eyes were pressed shut, cheeks raised with a smile, “Steve and I… we almost kissed!”

She clasped her free hand over her mouth, squealing behind it.

“Oh, my gosh! Tell me everything!” She spoke, flapping her hands with you as you both began to excitedly slap each other.

“Well, we were in the pool and we just kinda admitted our feelings and,” You paused, looking out the doorway checking to see if Steve was coming down, “I—I was about to kiss him but then the kids kinda barged in.”

“Those little shits,” Nance shook her head knowing they were always up to some kind of trouble.

“But it was fine! Everything was fine between us and nothing felt awkward, you know? I mean we slept in the same bed and woke up next to each other, so I’m sure we’re on the same page.” 

“Wait, you guys haven’t talked about it since then?”

You stared at her blankly, slowly nodding your head as your lip got caught between your teeth, gnawing on the skin nervously.

“We said we would when we got some time alone, but then we got busy with the kids and then I fell asleep before we could talk about it and then when we woke up this morning we really didn’t have enough time.” You blabbered nervously. 

She nodded understandingly – relationship stuff was always tricky especially when it was fresh and you both were figuring it out. The same thing happened with her and Jonathan when they first got together, the anxiousness and worrying about every little thing.

But she knew that you and Steve would figure it out eventually. From the looks of it alone, you both harbored the same feelings even from the very beginning when you thought you’d both just be friends. 

“Don’t get too in your head,” she reassured you simply, prompting you to release the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Trust your feelings and go for it.”

You would have hugged her a little long if it weren’t for the horn sounding off from the driveway. The impatient kids debated on letting Max drive them to Hawkins Square if Nancy didn’t wrap it up and hurry. Waving goodbye and watching the car skirt out of the driveway, you found your way back to the kitchen tidying up as you waited for Steve. 

Resting against the counters, when you picked up on the footsteps jogging down the stairs before he came through the doorway sporting a pair of medium wash jeans and a classic polo — you were sure he had a hundred colorways and still he made all of them look good.

“Where’d they go?” He frowned, peeking past the back sliding doors to see if they were outside causing a ruckus again.

“Nancy recruited their help.” You waved him over to you.

He came swiftly, letting his arms rest on either side of the counter, caging you in close. There was a pleasant domesticity to it, something Steve wished he could feel every day, whether it was on weekends like this or busy mornings where he didn’t care to know better. 

Your eyes moved to the little piece of hair dangling in the middle of his forehead, straying away from the rest. Carefully, you pushed it back, running your finger gently through to make sure it stayed put for the rest of the day.

“That’s better,” you cooed, patting his cheek with a soft tap, feeling his skin rise with laughter. 

“Have you eaten yet?” He suspected, looking over at the table that was severely lacking in food. 

“Without you?” You lifted your brows, before shaking your head, “Of course not.”

Steve chuckled, stepping back while you shuffled away. 

“You made eggs,” He blurted, reaching for the pan that sat on the stove with a few pieces of eggs left.

“They’re not as good as yours.” You complained with a dramatic whine, and Steve grinned, popping a piece of it into his mouth with a hum.

“I’ll have the rest of this and then I’ll make you some, alright?” 

You clapped your hands victoriously, as if scrambled eggs made by Steve Harrington was the best prize of them all.

“You’re the best! Mind if I shower real quick?”

“Yeah, go ahead. I left a clean towel on the rack for you.” 

You raced up the stairs, hurrying because you didn’t want Steve waiting on you but also you knew you had to get to the town square to finish setting up. Your bag sat on his desk chair, and you rummaged through it, pulling out the floral slip you packed and the extra intimates. 

You cranked the water to warm, stepping in and letting the water slide across your body. His products were already akin to your skin, the familiar scent of Steve slipping across the slopes and valleys of your body before you rinsed the suds off.

Getting out of the shower, you quickly patted yourself dry, getting your skin care products on your face before the moisture was lost. You didn’t pay too much attention to your makeup, settling for some concealer to hide a few blemishes and the bags under your eyes. You swept a dusty pink shade over your cheeks and dabbed the excess over your lips for a cohesive look.

You opened the door, letting the fresh air cool your skin, walking across to Steve's room to put everything away and chucking your dirty clothes into the hamper along with his. Checking yourself one more time in the mirror, you pulled your dry hair from the bun, fluffing it at the roots and sleeking them at the ends before you were out and back down the stairs into the kitchen.

A plate of streaming scrambled eggs sat steaming on a fresh plate right beside his. He had already portioned out the remainder of the food for you both, getting rid of the extra dishes that were now cleaned and air drying in the rack.

Steve sensed you, looking over his shoulder as you twiddle your fingers at him from the doorway. He stopped his movements and turned around fully to get a good look at you before stepping forward.

“You look beautiful.” He complimented charmingly, fingers coming down to your shoulder, adjusting the strap of your dress that was slipping.

You looked down at yourself, smoothing out the fabric and then meeting his again.

“So do you… sorry I didn’t say it earlier! I got so caught up.” You laughed faintly, shaking your head.

“Can I be beautiful?” He pondered, head tilting. 

“Like an angel.” You promised, bopping his nose with your finger as he chuckled, grabbing at your wrist and tugging you to the table to sit beside him.

The two of you began digging in, and while most of it was cold by then, neither of you cared too much. Breakfast was slowly becoming both of your favorite meals to share with one another, whether it was from Taylor’s or scraps of leftovers. 

“Are you excited for today?” He broke the comfortable silence, watching you take a bite out of the eggs.

“Very, but I’m just a teeny bit nervous.” You scrunched your nose, fingers pinching just a tad.

“Care to share?” 

“I just hope people like the sweets and I also hope they like the paintings, I mean they’re the ones that never really sold, so I figured I’d give it a shot here and if not they can go to the salvation army—”

“Don’t say that,” Steve interjected with a shake of his head.

“You’re right, maybe I should give them out for free—”

“Not that,” He leaned into you with a grunt, smiling stupidly as he heard you squeal and weakly push against his weight.

“They’re special, each and every single one of them, and if they don’t sell, it’s not your fault. They don’t get how special your art is.” He reasoned, letting up on your shoulder whilst he grabbed ahold of your hand.

Without even thinking, your fingers laced through his, pulses in your fingertips beating off one another while you stared at each other like fools in love. There was that out of the blue kind of fondness again, the one that neither one of you could escape.

“I feel as though you were a poet in your past life.” You ran your thumb against his skin. 

“Really?” He curled his lips up — he’s been called an idiot that could barely hold onto a job that was slinging ice cream, yet there you were making him rethink career paths just so he could tell you everything he loved about you. 

“Everything you say is so sweet and earnest.”

“Earnest?”

“Heartfelt!” you chirped happily, watching the berry pink hue coat his cheeks bashfully.

You didn’t dare look away, and he didn’t plan on hiding his blush, more than comfortably showing you that it was you who got him like this – only you. 

“Always when I’m with you.” He settled softly, bringing your clasped hands to his lips with a chaste kiss.

For a second, it was the closest thing to your heart exploding… then you remembered the almost kiss that was a definite heart stopper. 

It happened once every few lifetimes, this kind of feeling Steve couldn’t shake for you. Years ago, he thought that moment slipped from his grasp, yet maybe all of this time — all those failed feats of searching for his other half was meant to glitch because there you were in front of him and all he ever wanted to look at forevermore was you.

The paths that had been crossed and all the stars that aligned caused a cosmic shift where you both finally intertwined and ended up here. You weren’t just a phantom of his imagination that he thought up and longed for. It was really the person sitting in front of him that was all he ever wished for and he swore that this was that once in every lifetime feeling he wasn’t going to let slip.

His quietness wasn’t anything new, you had gotten used to the pleasant silence that came between you and Steve, but you couldn’t ignore the way his eyes were boring into your skin as you finished up your breakfast while his sat half finished.

You set down your fork, reaching for a napkin to wipe over your mouth.

“You feeling okay?” You mumbled, raising your brow toward him, watching his glazed over features come to.

He blinked wildly, nodding his head with a hum, “Oh, yeah! Sorry, I just—just love having you here.” He confessed sheepishly.

You pursed your lips into a smile you couldn’t control and then you were throwing your head back laughing too enamored by his charm.

“I love that you let me stick around this long.” You caught your breath, shaking your head at him ridiculously.

“Stick around forever.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Steve furrowed his brows, crossing his arms across his chest and leaning back in the chair wearing a playful smirk.

“Best one I think I’ve ever thought up.”

Maybe it was that new found confidence or maybe it was you being done acting too impaired by fear that you opened your mouth, and went for what was lingering – the one thing you needed reassurance from. 

“S-should we talk about…yesterday?” You coughed awkwardly, instantly cringing and regretting, letting it fall out of your mouth the way it did.

“Hey, don’t do that,” He reached for your hand, rubbing his palm over the top of yours, “I’ve been wanting to talk about it, but the kids kinda had to ruin the moment and all.”

“I think their timing is just a little off sometimes.” You said trying to give them the benefit of the doubt. 

He laughed shortly, before drawing your body closer to his. Knees knocking and thighs side by side — a skin to skin contact that felt almost reminiscent of yesterday's events, starting back up where you had left off.

“I meant every word I said, you know, about how you could never mess things up between us.” 

Still you worried, biting down on your lip, gnawing restlessly on the skin, “But what if I do, like, accidentally?”

“Accidents happen all the time. You just gotta learn how to work through them and see it through.” He shrugged slightly, keeping his tone gentle. 

“Are you always going to be this encouraging?” You sighed dramatically, halting your assault on your lip trying to lighten the mood.

“If I say yes, will you finally realize that I’m just as scared as you are about messing things up?”

Your eyes went wide, rocking your head side to side, finger poking into his chest.

“You have nothing to worry about! You’re like… so effortless. You make it look so easy and I’m just, I don’t know,” You shrugged reluctantly, “A mess?”

“You don’t think I’m screaming inside, nervous that I’m looking like a complete idiot in front of you?” He retorted, comically gesturing at himself.

“You could never look like an idiot in front of me!” you gasped, slapping his arm lightly, as you were wide eyed giggling.

“See, just like you could never be a mess to me!” He was half laughing and smiling then, motioning between the two of you.

You closed your eyes, sucking in a deep breath because you knew he was right. Nervousness was never one sided even for someone who was as suave as Steve Harrington.

“I meant that, every part of it. You don’t have to worry about making a fool out of yourself in front of me or being afraid you’re gonna mess anything up.” He spoke.

“If anything… we could give it a try? Mess it up together?” He offered with a dimpled smile, bringing his hand to glide across your cheek holding you to him.

“Together?” Your cheek rose against his palm, a smile too genuine to play off as shy watching him nod. 

“Yeah, if you want to take a chance on me,” He murmured, inching his face closer to yours.

“I’d take all of them.” You whispered, your heart pounding as you leaned in.

The moment was too perfect — a cage left undisrupted, the sanctuary it became as it was all you two had ever wanted. Just as your lips were about to touch, of course, the cage was rattled. A loud ring resounding from the living room, causing the both of you to flinch and snap your necks in its direction.

“Goddamnit!” Steve groaned, throwing his head back baffled, as the ringing continued to pitch through the house.

“I think we’re cursed.” You sighed, burying your face behind your hands, shaking your head in between a laugh and a groan.

The wooden chair screeched against the tiles as Steve stood up, running a hand over your shoulder as passed by.

“I told you, we’re not the ones messing it up, it’s everyone else!” He called out.

You couldn’t make out who was on the other side of the phone, but you could hear the faint voice as Steve let out a string of “uh-huh’s,” and “okay’s.” It was a few seconds more of that until Steve said goodbye and placed the phone back on the receiver.

“Who was it?” 

“Robin,” He replied with a huff, “Apparently she needs us there ASAP or else she’s gonna lose her mind because Nance is hounding everyone.”

You nodded, rubbing your hands over your knees, “We should go then.”

You stood up, going to gather the plates in a stack, but the gentle pull on your elbow stopped you and forced you to twist right into Steve’s chest, face-to-face breath fanning against each other until he spoke under his breath.

“I’ve been dying to kiss you for a while now,” He admitted, letting his eyes fall from your orbs to your lips back up to your eyes.

“R-really?” You swallowed, licking over your nearly raw skin, only then noticing his dilated pupils drinking you in.

He nodded, before that charming smile came to play with his hunger, “Yeah, and I’m gonna make sure when I do, we don’t need to rush.”

“I’m counting on you.” 

Steve of course offered to let you drive, dangling his keys from his finger after you both finished loading up the car but you had turned down his offer, claiming it was his turn to take you out on a spin and who was he to deny you that reward after all the hard work you put into it?

His hand lingered on your knee and your fingers ran across his forearm as he drove through town. Music low and windows down, coasting down the roads that you never thought would lead you to him. Before you knew it, Steve had turned into the center of town, grabbing a free parking space right between Eddie's van and Mrs. Byer’s Ford Pinto. The sun was beaming past the windshield, nearly blinding you and Steve as you quickly lowered the visors and began unbuckling.

The two of you had failed to notice the running figure approaching the car until a knock sounded on the hood prompting you and him to see Robin standing there with her hands on her hips waiting around for you both to hurry.

“It’s gonna be a long day,” Steve exhaled with a weak laugh.

“We’ll get through it.” You tapped his thigh and unlocked the door to get the show on the road.

“Finally!” Robin shouted, skipping over to your side. “Nancy is driving all of us crazy!” She wrapped her arms around you in a hug as you did the same, rocking your bodies back and forth.

“She’s just stressed, Ro. This is a huge deal for her and she probably wants it to be perfect.” You attempted to console her, rubbing a comforting hand over the middle of her back.

“Where is she, anyway?” Steve looked around surprisingly not seeing her near the large cluster of tents and people setting up.

Robin waved her hands in the air absentmindedly, opening the backdoors to help you grab the rest of the things from Steve’s car. “She’s somewhere around here bugging someone else, trust me.”

You and Steve shook your heads, retrieving the rest of the bags of treats while Robin waited around carrying the crate of painting before the three of you walked through the parking lot into the grass area where a bunch of tents were being set up. Nancy was able to get a handful of local businesses like Miss. Driscoll’s Flower Shop and Benny’s Burger to participate — even residents who just wanted to pitch in to help and support their town’s brick and mortar.

Robin jutted her chin out towards the group of pavilions smack dab in the middle of the square patch.

“Your booth is over there.”

She led you to the area that Nancy deliberately set aside for you in order to give you ample space where you wouldn’t feel cramped between the others when it got busier in the day.

Fold out tables were placed towards the front and on the sides of the tent. El and Max smoothing out the pale yellow covers over them as Mike tied off the ends that flooded too long on the ground.

“What’s with the ladder?” You squinted, catching sight of Lucas climbing up with a roll of tarp in his hands while Will and Dustin held steps still from the bottom.

“It’s a surprise.” Robin’s voice leaking with glee that she was trying to suppress all the while the boy unraveled the tarp and hooked it over the screws.

“A surprise?” You furrowed your brows at her, bemused.

You expected some explanation, but all she did was giggle to herself, biting down on her lip in an attempt to keep it a secret for just five more seconds until you looked up and saw it for yourself.

“No way!” Steve exclaimed, laughing infectiously, catching your attention.

Your name was written in whimsical cursive letters, decorated with doodles that the children associated with you: sunshine, hearts, bumble bees, sparkles, and everything in between adorably cute.

“You did this?!” you blurted, setting down the bags with a thud while you lifted a hand to block the glare of the sun in order to get another glimpse of the banner.

“We did! We spent all of last week working on it.” Lucas bursted, hopping down from the ladder to get a good look at it himself.

The kids flocked around you, proudly peering up at their creation that they worked tirelessly on, just finishing it the day before, which is why they had crashed Harrington’s place with such excitement — barely keeping it a secret in time for today… thankfully their unmatched timing had their lips sealed for the perfect reparation gift.

“You guys!” You pouted sweetly, holding your arms out to all of them, prompting them to walk into your embrace.

“We wanted to surprise you with it and it was so hard to keep under wraps, but we knew it would be worth it.” Will smiled at you as you ruffled his hair.

“Are you kidding me?! This is the most amazing thing ever. Thank you guys for doing it.” You said again, making sure to place a peck on their temples.

You spun around, eyeing Steve and pointing at him with an accusatory finger. “Did you know about this?”

He rocked back on his heels, neither confirming nor denying, “I did begin to get a little suspicious as to why they were covered in paint for two weekends in a row.”

“I guess their timing isn’t bad after all… they’re just too sweet to me.” You moped towards Steve, puppy-dog eyes staring at him like they could do no wrong as he took your shoulders into his hands.

“And now you’re wrapped around their pinkies again,” he murmured with a chuckle, slinging his arm around your frame and walking you both into the booth. “C’mon let’s go set up before Nance goes crazy on us next.”

He helped organize all the baked goods, making sure to keep anything with frosting away from direct sunlight and instead on the bed of ice that Jonathan had dropped off before scurrying away with a mutter that Nancy needed him somewhere else.

Max and Dustin got the cookies laid out in a presentable manner as El and Lucas gave them pointers from the front view of the booth. You and Mike worked together, laying out the fresh canvases on the opposite side of the booth, and Mike pitched in to hang a few canvases on the posts of the tent for display. 

It all was coming together, and you were in awe looking around at what Nancy was able to put together for her beloved town. For a first time local farmers’ market, it looked as if Hawkins had done this a million times before and you were sure this was just the beginning. You’d be lucky if Nancy asked you to come back and help out again, and even then, there was no chance you would be saying no.

“Can we grab our freebies now?” Dustin tapped your shoulder.

“Pick whatever you guys want! You deserve it for all the help you’ve given, and that cute banner.” You said warmly, smiling as they all went for their pick.

Steve stuck by your side, snickering when the kids struggled to pick what they wanted, as if you wouldn’t let them grab more freebies throughout the day because he knew you most certainly would. In the end, every kid picked something different and shared it with each other so they all got a taste of the delicious creations you had spent days whipping up.

“Hey, you,” Eddie whistled, knocking his fist into the post of the stall to get your attention from where you were folding up all the extra bags that were emptied.

“Eddie! Oh my gosh, I felt like I haven’t seen you in forever.” You walked around the booth, going to greet him with a proper hug.

“That’s because Steve’s been hogging you from all of us.” He teased, giving his friend a wink who rolled his eyes behind you.

“I have not been hogging her,” Steve retorted, resting his hands on his hips, pointing at the outline of the cigarette box in Eddie’s pocket, “It’s not my fault she doesn’t like the smell of smoke.”

You scowled playfully towards Steve, turning your attention back to your friend and rubbing his arm kindly.

“He’s kidding, but you know I’m always concerned about your lungs.” You sulked, cringing at the thought of Eddie getting sick because of those cancer sticks.

“I tried telling him that too, hon, but he’s just as stubborn as his mother.”

An older man rumbled beside him, knocking his shoulders with a punch as Eddie chuckled, and gestured to him. He was as tall as Eddie, sporting a salt and pepper beard — if you squinted hard enough, he had some resemblance to Eddie, except the lack of curly hair.

“That’s my uncle Wayne.” He grinned, waving him over to you.

“Nice to meet you!” You held your arms wide, greeting him with a friendly hug.

“Nice to meet you, honey. My nephew said you got a car that needs to be looked at?” He suspected curiously.

You nodded eagerly, watching as Eddie and Wayne darted their eyes to the parking lot, trying to spot your car through the bustle.

“Well, it’s not here right now. It’s actually back in Roane, but it’s been giving me a little bit of trouble. It’s making some sort of rumbling noise, and I don’t know if it’s the engine or something else.” You said with a slight tilt of your head, hoping you were making sense with your limited knowledge of cars.

“Could be something with the exhaust.” Wayne scratched his head, looking towards his nephew.

Eddie tilted his head, tapping his foot against the grass before there was a snap of his fingers. “Or it might be out of alignment.”

The two men made noises of agreement, still trying to think up what could be wrong despite not having the car there to access for themselves.

Wayne threw his hands down to his sides, looking over at you when he extended a kind offer.

“Why don’t you let us take a look at it? I work part time at the shop and Eddie has a shift there sometime next week. We can work you in then.”

You twiddled your fingers together excitedly. “Oh, that’s perfect. Thank you so much! Here, I’ll give you my number so that you can call me when to come down.”

You motioned for Eddie to follow you into the boot, ripping off a scrap piece of a brown bag and searching for a writing utensil to jot down your number for him. Steve and Wayne had striked up talking, catching up and making jokes about how sorry he was that his tapes were probably way past the return dates because he had no time after working two jobs and barely any sleep to stop by the store.

You scribbled down your phone number, folding it up and watching as Eddie slipped it into his pocket before he took his turn and wrote down the direction of the shop ahead of time.

“You baked all this stuff yourself.” Wayne called out fingers skimming over the packaged cookies and other treats.

Steve stood with a proud smile, nodding his head, “From scratch and all by herself.” Wayne flashing you an impressive nod.

“I really couldn’t have done it without Steve’s help, though.” You nudged him from across the table — Eddie and his uncle not missing the sweetness that lingered through your adoring eyes for Steve.

“Mind if I buy a few things already, or do I gotta wait until this whole thing actually gets started?” Wayne said, already moving to get out his wallet.

You shook your head, hands held out declining the bills he held out to you.

“First dibs on whatever you want, and it’s on me!”

“No, I couldn’t let you give it to me for free.”

“It’s no problem, really. You taking the time to come down here to ask about my car was enough!”

Wayne settled on a baggie of chocolate chip cookies and, after hearing that Steve had frosted the cupcakes, he couldn’t turn down a raspberry hibiscus one. It wasn’t long after his praise that he told you he’d try to stop by to pick up more treats later the day, before he excused himself to go check out the other booths for who needed help to set up.

Everything looked to be coming together — more booths pitching up their tents and getting set up with all their goods and tarps of their own. Coincidentally, Vickie’s lemonade stand was directly across from yours, giving you and Steve a front row view of how giggly she and Robin were as they prepped for opening — you definitely had to catch up with her when you got the chance.

Steve rubbed his hands together, scanning your booth in search of a task to steal from you, but all that was left was to wait until people were allowed in to start shopping. You were straightening out all the treats, doing last-minute touches to make sure everything looked perfect, even creating a small space where the cash would be handled.

Steve lingered beside you, tsking at you being on your feet all day, “Do you need anything? I could get you a chair to sit on. I mean I don’t have one on me right now, but I can find Nancy and ask?”

He peered past the booth, looking around, hoping to spot her or Jonathan running around somewhere.

“I’m okay, Stevie, but thank—”

Eddie clicked his tongue noisily, cutting you off guard, when he sauntered over to his friend with a grin.

“Ah, ever the gentleman you are, but I actually need some help,” He threw his arm over Steve’s shoulders, eliciting a groan, hating how the leather jacket clung to his neck in the heat.

“Nancy put me in charge of helping Miss. Driscoll unload all her flower pots, but I don’t want to do it alone. You know she gets all talkative about her plants, and I need a way out.”

“Why don’t you ask one of the twerps for help?” Steve reasoned toward the kids who looked minutes away from a sugar rush.

“I was thinking of it, but considering she’s been hogging you, I think you owe your friend a hand.” Eddie half joked, glaring at you.

“I have not been hogging him, Eddie!” You gasped, wagging a finger in the air.

“Whatever you say, sugar. Don’t worry, we won’t be long.” Eddie whistled, dragging his friend along with him.

“I’ll be back in a bit!” Steve shouted over his shoulder, heading a few booths down to Miss. Driscoll’s booth. 

By noon, the farmers’ market was swarming with more and more people, hoards of families walking around Hawkins Square and taking the time to enjoy all the booths and each other’s company on a rare occasion that wasn’t an angry town hall meeting.

And, of course, like Steve promised he was back in time to ease your nerves before your booth was enveloped with patrons ready to see what you had to offer. He, of course, didn’t come back empty-handed, presenting you with a succulent from Miss Driscoll’s, claiming you needed a real one to blend in with the fakes on your porch.

Before everyone arrived, he volunteered himself to be in charge of handling all the transactions, thanking his experience at Scoops and Family Video for his brisk change counting and his charming customer service. And as you expected, he was effortless at it.

“The mocha walnut loaf? Oh, that one is going to knock your socks off. But have you seen her paintings too? All her, and you won’t find these anywhere else.”

Steve paired his convictions with a wink, counting up the bills while you bagged the items with an amused smile clinging to your features, cheeks reddening from the compliments that the customers praised you with but more so the ones that Steve kept repeating like a motto. All those nerves faded into nothing when he was by your side, spurring you on.

Besides Max and Will, the other kids came and went, helping the other booths and exploring what was offered. Funnily enough, many of the kids’ parents, whom you hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting yet had stopped by to introduce themselves. Apparently, the kids really did yap about you all the time, so it was only right that they all got to meet who the heck their children were so fond of.

Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair was as sweet as ever, even Erica who according to Lucas was a “pain in the butt little sister,” was incredibly kind, sparking up a conversation about the Cherry Pie that Lucas told her was the best he ever had, and how one day she hoped you would be able to bake another so she could try it herself.

Mrs. Wheeler took the time to leave her book club booth, stopping by yours to introduce herself and gift you with a few books about art and recipe booklets she’d thought you’d like. She reminded you of Nancy in many ways — caring and headstrong just to name a few traits.

Ms. Henderson was a spitting image of Dustin — personality and all. She met you with such joy and excitement, practically buying one of every treat and even picking up a canvas that she claimed was going to hang perfectly above the mantle where all of Dustin’s science awards stood.

To your surprise, even Dorothea stopped by, bragging about how Steve had invited her and she could not deny the invitation to catch up with you for a little and get to explore the town that she hadn’t been to in ages. The kids even got the chance to meet her, cheeks being pinched as if their grandmothers were visiting, while you and Steve stifled your laughter as they all tried to converse shortly with her.

The hours ticked by fast, people coming and going, leaving with a creation of yours while they left you with an ever-growing sense of gratitude. In some weird way, Hawkins felt a little bit like home, surrounded by your friends and new company that you could get used to soon enough. By the time the day slowed down and the temperature cranked up it was midafternoon and you were all left waiting for the last call to pack up and get going.

You tossed your hair over your shoulder, fanning yourself lightly as you eyed the kids who settled themselves on the grassy ground, trying to shade themselves from the unrelenting sun.

“You guys doing good over there?” You giggled, bending down to press the back of your hand over their necks.

Max groaned, wiping the sweat off her forehead for the millionth time.

“How much longer until this is over? I think I’m gonna have a heat stroke soon.” She exasperated dramatically, prompting Lucas to fan her with his flapping hands.

“Soon.” Steve chuckled, drumming his fingers against the table tops, setting his sights across the town square where the crowds began to dwindle little by little.

“I’ll get you all lemonade from Vickie’s booth just before we start packing up.” He added before the kids mumbled out their fatigued “thank you’s.”

You stood up straight, settling next to Steve, leaning against the tables and facing opposite of where the sun was beaming down on the front of your booth. For a while there had been no customers, because you had already sold out of all the baked goods, and there were only a few of you and Will’s art pieces left — you thought that maybe some late straggler would take a pick at them before you left.

You and Steve glanced at each other, smiling faintly until his arm slung over your shoulder, pulling you toward him, closing the space.

“Are you feeling hot too?” He wondered, not minding the stickiness of your skin together when he brushed your hair behind your ear.

You opened your mouth ready to assure him that you were not on the brink of a heat stroke but Mike gagged dramatically, causing you both to close your eyes anticipating what smartass remark that would fall from his lips.

“Dude! Right in front of us?” Mike choked, looking at you both with a look of revulsion, “Take your flirting elsewhere!”

“I swear to god, Wheeler.” Steve spat, shaking his head at the boy before shooting you an apologetic look that was quite common nowadays.

You ignored the boy's middle school behavior.

“I’m okay, not too hot or anything. Just a bit warm.” You assured Steve, stroking his back lightly, thanking him for still being so concerned about you.

“Are the coolers out of water already?” Steve lifted his brow, briefly dropping his arm from your body to head over to the icebox that Hopper had dropped off in the middle of the event, filled with ice cold water bottles and Capri-Suns.

“There should be one left,” one of the kids mumbled.

He stuck his hand into the pleasantly freezing water to retrieve it for you, walking back and already having the cap twisted off, holding it out with a grin.

“Here you go.”

“You’re the best.” You whispered, taking it from him as you tipped the bottle back taking a few sips.

“Wow, I can’t believe you still have this one! I remember you made this when we were dating and I told you then it wasn’t good, and it being here now just comes to show how right I was.”

The foreign voice tumbled into the quietness, the kids perking up their heads and faces covered with confusion, while Steve looked rather shocked, instantly whipping his neck to the person speaking.

You felt frozen in fear, nearly choking on the water as you felt your heart sink into the pit of your stomach and your palms began to sweat. The plastic bottle crinkled when your shaky fingers capped it closed. Unsure, you didn’t know whether to turn around and face him or run away and hide.

“And you’re still baking for fun? Don’t tell me you haven’t found a real job yet.” The voice snickered cruelly, causing you to tighten your jaw, eyes pinching shut.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” Steve cut in, trying to understand why some stranger would come up to you and say some horrible things unwarranted, but you didn’t allow the man to give him an answer.

“You need to leave.” You seethed, whipping towards him and snatching the canvas away from his hands with enough power to cause him to lose footing for a second.

His face twisted into something evil, so condescending like he didn’t change at all, “What? Can’t take a little joke?”

“Not from you. Now go.” You replied dryly, planting the canvas back down and pointing him out the other way.

“That isn’t any way to treat a paying customer.” He teased with a pout, reaching back for his wallet, as if you would ever take a penny from him.

“I don’t want your money, so you can leave.” You shook your head with the roll of your eyes.

“Why so cold all of a sudden? I just wanted to pop in and say hello. I couldn’t resist when I saw flyers hanging around when I was visiting. How’s rent? Are you short this month because I can give you a few extra—”

An irked puff of air left your mouth, arms crossing over your chest, “What the fuck do you gain from this? Humiliating me? Getting a kick off seeing me happy without you? What is it, Brad?”

Brad. Now Steve had a name and face to put to your ex — punchable in so many ways. But unbeknownst to you all, El and Will immediately ran off, going to find their dad who was acting somewhere wandering before things could escalate into something bigger that none of them wanted to see.

“Happy?” Brad scoffed, laughing in your face, “You call working a stall in the middle of nowhere a source of happiness? What could have made you happy was getting a real job and moving out to the city to make real money.”

You looked at him disappointingly, eyes glaring with storms in them — the same ones he used to cause.

“You’re so pathetic, coming all the way out here to do this to me. Was six years not enough for you? All that time and you still haven’t had enough of making me feel bad.” You accused sharply.

“It’s called a reality check. Some people find it helpful.”

“Well, I don’t need it. I didn’t need it six years ago. I didn’t need it when we broke up, and I don’t need it now.” You retorted, slamming your hands onto the table, getting face to face with him.

Steve immediately extended his arm between you both, but you hadn’t even internalized his protective gesture, too busy staring the man in front of you down for all those years he stole from you and that moment right then that he tried to claim as his.

In the distance, coming closer there were the two kids, jogging ahead of their father, leading him to the commotion that was starting to attract the eyes of strangers and the other booths that stuck around.

“Is there a problem here?”

Hopper announced his presence, approaching the front of your booth, giving Steve a look of confusion seeing as though you were the unlikely bet to be in this position when his kids alerted him of what was going on.

You didn’t budge, ignoring Hopper and instead, standing your ground the way you were too scared to do before when it was behind the walls of your apartment. He didn’t deserve an ounce of your sympathy, let alone civility for the way he tried to slither his way back into your life.

“All those indiscretions of yours that I used to take in good fun? That’s not me anymore and I’m happy, and I don’t need to prove it to you or anyone else.” You sneered, watching the way he rolled his eyes to cover the bruise you had just given to his ego.

“Keep telling yourself that because the next person who has to endure dating you for as long as I did is going to feel sorry for themself when they realize they wasted their time on a train wreck.”

“Shut your mouth!”

Before you could even process what was happening, Steve wedged himself between you both, grabbing your ex by the collar, nearly dragging him across the tables as he shook him harshly. You gasped, stumbling back only to be caught by the hands of the children, springing quickly into action. The tussle didn’t last long, Hopper immediately jerked the two apart, all while a crowd formed, loud chatter and pointed fingers reveling in the sight that you wished was all a bad dream.

It felt all too real, reliving everything that you once put up with, and the air was beginning to getting thicker, harder to breathe through with everyone gawking. Your eyes darted left and right, Robin sprinting out of her booth to see what was going on, and Nancy on the opposite side dropping her clipboard to run over. But before they could even come close, you did what you knew how to do best — run.

Steve stepped back, muttering out a “sorry” towards Hopper, seeing as though this was the last thing that was supposed to go down today. He ran his hands roughly over his face, catching his breath and attempting to calm the adrenaline rushing through his veins.

“Are you alright?” He spoke gently, turning around expecting to be met with you, but you were already gone.

The kids were shaken up, pointing in the opposite direction where your figure was weaving through booths trying to get away.

“Go,” Two voices said behind them, Nancy and Robin nodding him along, before they worked on getting everybody to clear out and give Hop some space to escort your ex out.

You felt stupid hot tears rolling down your cheeks, angry at yourself for letting his words get to you after all this time apart, and even more sorry that Steve and the innocent kids had to see you get so worked up over a loser like him that wasn’t even deserving of time….yet you were there, visibly upset.

There was a pit in your stomach, the one that came back for the first time in ages, the one that you thought you had repressed so much so that it would never show up again. You thought the day he broke it off was it — the last time you’d ever see him or hear his voice, and for a moment that brought you all the closure you needed, but now it was as if the stitches to that wound were becoming undone once again. 

Then there was that familiar voice coming to you. Not the one that was poisoned with malice, but his that was always a consolation during times of sadness, only this time, your own anxiety wasn’t the cause of your despair, but in fact another soul who dared to hurt you.

“Sweetheart! Wait up, come on honey, just—just slow down for a second.”

Naturally Steve had come after you and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t expect him to do so, but just didn’t know what you were going to say to him when he’d meet you face to face. How he could look at you and see the person he had been spending most of his time with? If that version of you was even a semblance of someone he could actually be with, or maybe the version he just saw seconds ago was the train wreck he was dodging all this time.

“I—I can’t go back there!” You shouted with tears in your eyes.

You turned into the brick alleyway of the radio shack barricading yourself from being embarrassed even more than you already were. Your hands covered your face, sobbing uncontrollably as you paced back and forth until Steve caught up, gently halting your footsteps and pulling you into his frame.

“Hey, c’mon, I’m right here.” He breathed softly, drawing your hands down just so he could see you.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes, pinching them shut as you bit down harshly on your lip trying to silence violent whimpers that risked escaping. His heart ached just looking at you, tear-stained cheeks with rivers continuing their paths all while you did everything but look at him — the way he wanted you to, just so you could see that he was right there with you and there wasn’t a chance he’d leave.

“Please, Steve, you have to find a way for me to get outta here. There must be a back road or something, right? Y-you can bring the car around here and take me home.” You reasoned, eyes darting around nervously, attempting to peer past his figure to think up a great escape.

He hushed you quietly, taking your face into his hands, guiding you slowly, “Sweetheart, breathe…” Your tears didn’t stop, but your staggered breathing shallowed into something gentler, “Yeah, just like that, it’s okay.”

His thumbs ran under your eyes, swiping the traces of tears that kept pouring as you tried to keep your breathing at bay. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, alright?” He assured you sincerely, never letting up on the softness.

“I-I’m stupid,” you whispered, letting him hold your face as you hung your head low letting the teardrops splat onto the concrete beneath you.

“No, you aren’t. Don’t say that.” He scolded lightly, shaking his head in disapproval.

“I am,” you whimpered chin quivering, “I caused a scene and everyone is probably talking about it because I had to make myself the center of attention.“

“You’re so wrong.” He spoke in a tone that felt almost upbeat for the situation at hand, that you really had no choice but to stare up at him in disarray.

He looked over shoulder, then straight back at you with a faint smile on his lips.

“Hop is probably threatening him with jail time. The kids most likely heckled the hell out of him. And if I’m not wrong, Nancy and Robin are searching for you, wanting to make sure you’re okay.”

You sniffled, eyes crinkling as the tears fell, not knowing how he could be so optimistic after what had transpired. You were deeply convinced that there was no plausible way he wasn’t concerned with his own choices, settling to be there with you instead of bolting knowing you were a mess he was in for.

Without missing a beat, he continued thumbing away the tears that came, words spilling out of his mouth.

“You don’t get it do you? How much everyone here adores you, and would do anything for you at a moment’s notice?” He kept that wide-eyed look on his face, trying to get you to see yourself in the light that he did.

“You don’t even live in this town, yet you have everyone dying to be around you because you’re so kind and special.”

You croaked out a cry, swallowing back the lump in your throat, while your head rock back and forth in his cradle, unconvinced that’s how anyone saw you. But he hummed surely, picking your head up as he nodded and stared at you with a sentiment of so forthright written across his face.

He stroked your cheeks, getting impossibly closer to you, his chestnut orbs staring into your sodden ones, “I’m a little bias but you wanna know something else?”

You ran your tongue over your lips, shrugging as your sobs slowly died with each second that passed. “W-What?”

“Every time that you’re away, I feel incomplete. Like I’m missing the one thing I can’t have and I can’t take it.” He told you, feeling your jaw quiver beneath his fingertips.

“Steve…” you whispered, closing your eyes only briefly not wanting to take any of it for granted.

When your eyes met his again, his lips moved with another string of words falling from them.

“It’s you that I want. I want you with every fiber of my being.”

“I want you too,” You sniffled, hands wrapping around his wrist, holding you both there, “God…you—you have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to tell you and I’m so sorry it had to happen like this but—”

He smiled, shaking his head interjecting, “Are you gonna stop apologizing and let me kiss you? I’ve been dying to, after all.”

You cracked a laugh, eyes crinkling, and the tears stood still. All that was in front of you was all that you wanted to see forevermore.

“Yeah,” you murmured, draping your arms across his neck, “please.”

There was a promise in his eyes, to give you everything you wanted and more, an unspoken vow to always be yours if you were to be his. Those same eyes flickered over your lips, breath hitching in your chest as your lashes fluttered with your lids shutting. Lips closing the distance until everything felt like it was melting away.

Soft and tender, a gentle invitation granting you both to step into the daylight together. Your lips meshing synchronically, his hands sliding to the back of your head, pulling you closer into him, and without thinking your foot kicked up — the outside world becoming nothing when you both had your own oasis to call home.

Every brush and graze etched upon your skin, your lips making their permanent mark on his, and then it was for certain that your lives couldn’t exist without this feeling again.

Breathlessly, you both pulled away foreheads resting against each other as your starry eyes gleamed into his. Silence filled the air, yet you both knew what it meant—everything you both had been anticipating and hoping for since the beginning.

And who were you both to fight it? 

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: i haven't updated this series in forever, but at the same time it feels like i have been working on it since forever (just writer things yenno?) the kiss finally happened!!! i've been dying to write this scene since the beginning of glitch, and im so sorry i had to drag it out six chapters, but all good things come with patience hahaha. thank you all for sticking around this long, and i think i have a few chapters left before i wrap this series up, but glitch will always have a special place in my heart for the sole reason that it came to me naturally and i was able to forge it up for you all, and most importantly you all showed such immense love for it--truly it means the world to me <3 a big thank you to my baby @translatemunson for always being my biggest motivator and bestest proof reader (i love you sm babes!!!) and i love all of you, thank you for sticking around and being the best!

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3

[jen-with-a-pen]

ALL TIED UP - FIVE

Previous ⊹ Series

summary: Steve's night is made when his barista ends up sharing a class with him. But Steve's paranoia gets the best of him– can he really trust his gut?

pairings: Art Student!Frat Brother!Steve Rogers x Film Student!Sorority Sister!Reader

word count: 2.66k

warnings: flirting, fluff, hand holding, closeness, steve is adorable when he's nervous, paranoia, unease, cursing, barista lore™

a/n: had fun writing this one as we build up to friday! i might be switching the days/chapters around in the next few, but we'll see. depends on the depravity of my brain 😈

gif by @paliaphrodite | additional graphics + dividers by me ♥

my ao3 | my masterlist | all tied up masterlist Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥

Last Thursday.

Learning how to draw, when he already knows how to draw, makes Steve feel bad at drawing.

Sitting in the lecture hall of the art school, he doodles over the half-assed notes he manages to take during the first thirty minutes of class. Usually, he loves Drawing 101; it’s his easiest, only late-night class each week and one of the only times he can relax without worrying about one of the brothers barging in with another stupid homework question. Usually, it's just him, his earbuds turned up a touch too high, and whatever subjects the instructor places in front of him. On Thursday nights, nothing stands between him, an easel, and two straight hours of sketching pots and people. 

Except when a said-Thursday night happens to fall on ‘mandatory lecture’ day.

It hasn’t been an hour when Steve gives up trying to force himself to focus, instead choosing to mindlessly doodle over and around the page. The Drawing 101 guest professor continues to drone on about different types of graphite in the pencils kits Steve and twenty-odd other kids in the course were forced to buy. Steve doesn’t understand– nor does he particularly give a shit– as to why a 3H pencil is better over a 3B pencil, or how using an 8B pencil isn’t preferred over a 7B pencil.

A pencil is a fucking pencil.

Steve sighs, failing to stifle a yawn. No amount of coffee– not even the triple espresso concoction his barista had him try earlier that day– could save him from falling asleep in this godforsaken, decades-old room with dimmed lights and sporadically-filled seats scattered amongst the vast sea of empty ones. Honestly, nobody ever came to monthly lectures, save for when their usual professor mentioned the material would be part of their written midterms. Guest lecturers result in a lesser turnout, too, and Steve partially wishes he’d chosen to spend it back at the café or in the library. As the professor continues on to the next type of pencil, the double doors at the back of the room creak open. Still dazed in a bored stupor, Steve cranes his neck over his shoulder to see which unlucky bastard is almost an hour late to the snoozefest. 

He immediately wakes up, shooting up in his seat as if a bucket of ice water were splashed on him. He can’t believe what he sees: it’s her. Her. His barista. 

Mouth agape, he stares as she slowly closes the doors, careful not to draw too much attention to her late arrival. When nobody bothers to acknowledge her, she makes her way down the carpeted steps of the lecture hall in search of refuge in an empty seat. Her eyes dart across the aisles, desperate for just one, inconspicuous place that will draw the least attention. 

As she combs the rows with a furrowed brow and bottom lip slipping adorably between her teeth, Steve realizes he’s got some sort of a chance. Eyes dart to the professor, then back to her. Steve subtly raises a hand, waving to get her attention. Locking eyes, she finally sees him. Relief and surprise replace her bitten lip with a beaming smile. Steve’s heart soars, skipping far more than several beats. He doesn’t– he can’t– take his eyes off her as she quickly shuffles through the row of seats, plopping down next to him and dropping a tote bag at her feet. She pulls out a purple notebook and pen, slouching back into her seat with a relieved sigh, knee brushing gently against Steve’s. A ghost of the sweetest-smelling perfume drifts into his nostrils and he has the urge to replace his oxygen supply with it.

Steve feels like he’s dreaming. Cloud nine, light as a feather, the whole fucking nine yards. He skims over her features in the dim light of the lecture hall– the curve of her lips as she whispers to herself, flipping through the pages of her notebook, trying to find a blank spot; her eyelashes that flick up and down as she copies down the date and class number. He trails down her neck, crossing over the gold bar necklace she wears every day, to her shoulders and arms, her hands. When his eyes drift back up to her face, she’s staring back. Heat blooms in his cheeks and nerves constrict his chest in embarrassment. She smirks, shaking her head and turning her attention to the professor’s current ramblings on B and HB pencils. Steve opens his mouth to speak but quickly shuts it.

What would he even say? How would he get away with trying to talk to her in the middle of the lecture? The professor would hear him, he’d get called out, everyone would see him–

She huffs, turning to another blank notebook page. Steve side-eyes her as she quietly tears the page out and scribbles something on the first line. Side-eyeing Steve, a small smile pulls at the corners of her lips as she discreetly slides the paper over to him.

hi stranger.

Steve can’t help but grin. It spills across his lips as more heat blooms, trailing up his ears and down his neck. Trying not to seem too eager, he clicks his own pen and scrawls a response. The professor’s voice fades into background noise, going through one ear and out the other. He’s a goner and so is Steve.

YOURE THE STRANGER, STRANGER

He slides the paper back to her. She scoffs a laugh, smile growing wider. 

last minute class drop + switch. u know how it is.

TRUE. DIDNT KNOW YOU WERE AN ART KID

She shakes her head, quickly scribbling when Steve cocks his head, mouthing a ‘what?’

film kid. have to take art class for credit. only one available.

Steve’s surprised at her response, nodding once he thinks it over. It makes sense. 

She makes sense.

It fits her. It fits the way she moves, the way she carries herself, the ease in which she comes up with witty comebacks. It’s then and there Steve really thinks about the contrast between the two of them– the way he’s perceived versus how he perceives her. He’s a frat brother, a six-foot-two guy with muscles he doesn’t know how to use yet, and a lifelong artist who doesn’t fit in– no matter how much he tries to claw and fight his way out of the hole people dig and throw him in.

If anything, he doesn’t make sense. 

Brow furrowing and jaw set, Steve’s caught in the downward spiral he’s been fighting to keep at bay since coming to Richards– since he pledged his life away to Sigma Theta Beta and the never-ending identity crisis the brothers force upon him every waking moment. But, it’s with her that he feels more like himself than anywhere else in the goddamned world. It’s with her he wants to– willingly– be himself. He wants to be himself with her.

He, however, doesn’t realize the hack job he’s performing on his poor cheek tissue until a soft hand covers his, squeezing lightly. Warmth spreads like wildfire across Steve’s skin, breaking him free and bringing him back to the real world. Concern veils over his barista’s expression; her soft, searching gaze jumps between his baby blues.

‘You okay?’ she mouths, studying him, hand still on his. Her brow twitches upwards when he still doesn’t respond. Steve holds up an index finger and goes back to responding on the paper. 

SORRY. LOT ON MY MIND

She nods heavily in agreement. 

same. pencildick up there is putting me to sleep. how do you even do it?

Steve bites a laugh back. 

DRAWING, COUNTING THE CLOCK

Before she takes it back Steve adds,

AND NOW YOU.

Her smile is bright enough to light up the darkened lecture hall. 

Two whole pages are filled by the time class lets out. Front and back. 

Steve allows his barista to take the lead in following other students out of the lecture hall. Buzzing conversations reveal a shared eagerness to get the hell out of there and go spend the rest of their Thursday night doing something else more worthy of their precious time. Steve slings his bag over his shoulder as he follows close behind, verbally continuing their written conversation about her shift from earlier in the day and swapping ridiculous ways on how they’ll manage to work every type of pencil into their midterm.

As he plods next to her, Steve fights an innate urge to place a light hand on her lower back to guide her out on their way to the parking lot. Instead, he gets the door, jokingly half-bowing with an outstretched arm to the second set of double doors. Continuing out of the building, Steve takes a breath, deciding now is the perfect time to ask if she’s busy tonight. Instead, though, she stops abruptly. Steve runs directly into her, arms jutting out instinctively to steady both of them out of sheer instinct. Grabbing her shoulders, she spins around to face him, closer to his chest than either realized.

Steve feels his ears turn red again. She looks up at him, blinking before taking a step back, lips parting slightly. An awkward beat hangs in the air before Steve clears his throat and rubs his neck.

"You, uh,” he swallows, preparing himself for the inevitable, “You maybe wanna go grab a bite t’eat, or somethin’?" 

Her eyes widen, lips twitching at the corners. She looks like she’s about to answer before quickly realizing something, as if internally scolding herself for even looking excited. Pressing her lips together, her eyes dart back to her phone.

"Shit, I–" she quickly types a response and shoves it back in her pocket, exhaling in frustration. 

"What is it?"

"I would love to, Steve. I really would, but," she closes her eyes and sighs, "I can't. My sisters need me back at the house. They said it’s an ‘emergency.’" She adds sarcastic air quotes, rolling her eyes. 

"Oh!” Relief fills Steve’s chest, thankful she’s not purposefully blowing him off with some shitty excuse. “Okay, no yeah, I–I totally get it, family can be-"

She smiles softly, shaking her head and taking his hand to run a thumb over his knuckles. The gesture is so casual, so soft, yet it sends goosebumps up Steve’s arm. 

"Oh, no. No, they're not my actual sisters. They're, um, my sorority sisters." She flinches as 'sorority' leaves her lips.

Steve blanches, swallowing a disbelieving laugh. He can't help the lopsided smile spreading across his face. He can’t help taking both her hands in his and holding them in excitement. The odds of it– all of it– all the things, of all the people, she’s the one to make him feel less alone. She’s the one that understands everything.

He tries, and fails, to contain his excitement.

"No, I– I completely get it. My frat brothers are insufferable and I'm the newest pledge, so–"

It’s her turn to blanche. "You? You’re a new pledge, too?"

"Yeah, I, uh, I’m required by my scholarship–"

"Oh thank God it's not just me!"

"There's one for sisters, too?" Steve gawks. He’s truly in shock at the audacity of Richards to make any student required to endure the circle of Hell that is Greek life. He squeezes her hands. She matches him.

"Of course there is, meathead,” she snorts. “Title nine, or whatever the hell."

Steve nods. "I can’t tell you how glad I am not to be alone in this. It's fucked up, but maybe not as much now that I know you're in the same boat as me."

He pulls her ever-so-slightly closer. She lets him.

"Guess that makes you the Jack to my Rose."

Steve furrows his bro, cocking his head like a confused puppy. 

"Oh God– Don't tell me you've never seen Titanic," she gasps, feigning offense and sending Steve off course, thinking he’s fucked up somehow.

Sarcasm isn’t his strong suit.

"I, uh– no, not that I know of. I–I mean I've heard of the Titanic, but I don't remember the– well I know there's a movie, but I–" 

She laughs, full and genuine, stepping forward as her hands leave his, placing one on his shoulder. Her touch is soft, gentle, more comforting than anything he’s ever felt. 

"I'll show ya some time. Don't worry."

Squeezing his bicep, her fingertips glide down to his hand, grazing his fingers for the slightest moment before slipping between them, lacing them together. Electricity shoots up Steve's arm. Without another word she leads him out of the building, walking down the sidewalk lit by the moon rising overhead and scattered street lamps illuminating the parking lot. 

Steve decides then and there he’ll go wherever she takes him. Anywhere. Everywhere.

She stops at the edge of the parking lot and turns to him. "This is where I leave ya, my car’s over yonder.” She nods to a blue sedan with a Richards sticker on the back windshield sitting underneath one of the street lamps. “Plus, I’d like to save you walkin’ me to my car for another night.”

Butterflies. Steve nods. She scoffs a laugh.

“Text me, meathead. I'll see ya tomorrow?"

“Tomorrow.”

She releases his hand in slow motion and Steve hopes she’s relishing every bit of physical contact with him as he is with her. He heads to his own car parked in the darker side of the lot under the shadows of the perimeter trees and dimmer lamps, swaying languidly and ambling across the pavement in a trance. Steve makes a note to himself: watch more movies, because he sure feels like he's in one. 

The trance is broken when a split second of what sounds like a scream echoes over the lot and is snuffed out just as abruptly as it started. 

Steve freezes, key halfway into unlocking the driver’s side door. Ears prick up, breath held firm in his chest. Turning over his shoulder, he gasps, startled as a blue car– her car– slowly backs out from under the streetlamp and exits onto the road casually. Steve watches it disappear from view. The sound of the engine gunning it down the road leaves Steve alone in the dark, a sick uneasiness pooling in his gut.

He gets in his car, tossing his bag into the passenger seat and pulling out his phone.

You okay? Did you hear that?

Steve turns the engine over and throws the car into drive, foot hard on the brake before checking her text back. 

Hear what? I’m okay! :)

The uneasiness doesn’t leave him. She doesn’t usually text like that. 

“Fuck, get a grip, Steve,” he mutters to himself, resting his head against the steering wheel. He takes a second to gather himself and calm his nerves. The paranoia he’s been trained to feel thanks to his brothers, in combination with the fear of fucking everything up with his barista tonight, must be mixing together and clashing against every active nerve in his body. He’s fine. She’s fine.

She’s obviously driving right now, of course she wouldn’t fucking text how she normally does. She’s probably using voice text. Calm. Down.

Steve sends another text before tossing his phone into the passenger’s seat, the unease refusing to dissipate. He turns on the radio, turning up the song blasting from the speakers in a sorry attempt to silence his racing thoughts. 

No big deal. Get home safe.

His phone stays silent the rest of the night. It stays silent as he gets home, as he throws a bowl of ramen together, as he throws himself onto his bed and flips open his laptop to watch some random brainrot he finds on Netflix. 

He nods off, letting himself be taken by exhaustion as the uneaten bowl of ramen sits on his desk, growing colder, while the dim computer light and hum of dialogue pull Steve further and further into a dreamless sleep.

His phone dies silently in his hand. 

[i-heartnay]

some of my fav guys ;)

[dbnightingale24]

I'll Wait For Your Love

A StevexReaderxBucky Messy Triangle

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~~

Everyone thank my husband because he fixed the wifi! This is only a bit of the final installation of 'My Little Decoy'. You can read the full version here. I didn't finish this as quickly as I wanted to, but it still got done a lot faster than I thought it would (yay anxiety!).

Thank you @fuckingbye for always putting up with my shit, and always making me amazing moodboards because I'm lame as shit. I love you and I can't wait to tackle you with a hug <3.

As always, please heed the warnings and I hope you enjoy it! Here we go!

Word Count: 35,290 (it's called growth)

Warnings: SMUT!! (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), Slight Infidelity, Arguments, Drinking, Smoking, Angst, Swearing, Self Loathing, Fluff, Heartbreak, Lying (by omission), Daddy Kink, Uhh...I think that's it?

Song(s) That Inspired This Chapter: You Cling To Your Papers and Pens, Wait Until You Like Me Again

Summary: When two major parts of your past come back and ask for another chance, do you stand your ground and stay with the life you've created for yourself, or do you decide to test the water after all this time and see if it's worth the leap of faith?

~~

I do not give consent/permission for my works/stories to get posted elsewhere. I do not condone this type of behavior, this is for entertainment purposes only.

~~

~~

It’s weird. You had made peace with never seeing either man again, yet for the past hour, the three of you have been in your kitchen arguing. Bucky snaps at you, Steve defends you, you snap at Bucky, Steve gets you to calm down, Bucky snaps at him, and you threaten to kick him out. Honestly, for the most part, Steve is the mediator. You’re assuming that they have some level of friendship again, or he just doesn’t want to pile anymore guilt and pressure onto you.

It was clear to you that he hadn’t expected Bucky to follow him and, if he hadn’t been so focused on seeing you, he would’ve noticed Bucky’s car. Apparently, with Maria being pregnant, Steve assumed that Bucky hadn’t even noticed his erratic behavior.

He should’ve been right.

“James, I don’t know what you want me to say,” you sigh for what feels like the millionth time as you stir the white sauce on the stove. “I can only apologize so many times, but it’s not like you were in the dark. You saw the connection between Steve and I, and you decided to pursue me anyway. I didn’t start cheating until long after you had-”

“You being in love with Steve was already cheating!” he shouts at you, and you pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Are you ever capable of holding yourself accountable? Or is it only when you know you’re in danger of losing me? You never apologized for cheating and you still won’t fess up to it, you never actually apologized for your behavior when we found out I couldn’t get pregnant, and even now, you’re just throwing it in my face that I cheated on you after you cheated on me. Is that what you came all the way here for? To yell at me and make me feel small in my own home? Because, if it is, you can get the fuck out right now. I don’t need this shit from you, James. I didn’t need it then and I sure as shit don’t need it now,” you say firmly as you finally turn to face him.

You don’t miss the small smile that comes to Steve’s face, before he takes a sip from his beer bottle. 

Bucky lets out a frustrated sigh before he ran a hand through his hair, “no, that’s not why I came out here.” “Then what did you come here for?”

“I wanted to see you,” he confesses softly.

You turn and open the oven to check on the salmon, “she’s pregnant, James. That’s what you wanted-” “I wanted it with you and you know that.”

“You cheated with her, James. You cheated with her because you knew it would hurt me the most, you fucked her at work, in our house, and went out with her after work very publicly to make me look like a fool. Then, you denied the whole thing to try and make me feel crazy, like I couldn’t see the lipstick stains on my pillow-”

“You hurt me!”

“Because I couldn’t have a fucking kid? You think that was a fun thing for me to find out?!”

“It wasn’t just the baby! You never loved me in the way that you love Steve, and I tried and tried-”

“Then why not just let me go?!”

“Cause I loved you. I love you.”

“Well, you got married to her a year after I left, and now she’s gonna have your child. Looks like you’re doing just fine.” “Don’t be fucking callous,” he scoffs.

“James, you followed Steve to my home to berate me, and you’re gonna sit there and tell me not to be callous? You went out of your way to have this argument, and for what? Because you couldn’t trap me into being in love with you? Go fuck yourself and die on that fucking cross you’re so desperate to hang yourself from!”

“Darlin’,” Steve snaps and Bucky rolls his eyes.

“I’m sorry, but fuck that. You want me to feel so bad for something I tried to ignore, and that’s not fair! What I did was wrong, but I tried. I defended you, I looked the other way, and never held anything over your head. You constantly went out of your way to hurt me, and I’m supposed to feel bad for finally following my heart? I’m supposed to feel bad because I wouldn’t let you trap me and make me hate myself anymore? Fuck that. I never played you for a fool, you did that shit to yourself, and I refuse to pay penance for it anymore,” you snap as you pour the bow ties into the boiling water. “God, where does your pregnant wife even think you are?”

“I just told her I needed to get out for a while.” “You’re such an asshole. I don’t even like the bitch and I think it’s a low blow. You leave your pregnant wife to tell your ex-wife that you still love her? What the fuck did you think was going to happen? What did you think I was gonna say? You thought I’d see the light and wanna take you back? You married her out of spite, James.”

“I do love her-”

“Well, clearly not enough,” you scoff, “this feels a lot like the pot calling the kettle black, because you love her, but you’re still pining over me? That’s fucking rich, I gotta say. You’re a real piece of work,” you chuckle dryly as you pour yourself another glass. 

“I wanted to see you...make sure you’re okay. Nat and Meg won’t tell anyone anything, Meg won’t even talk to me-”

“Well, what the hell did you think was going to happen, James? I’ve been her best friend since we were six. Yeah, she’s not too fucking fond of you after everything that’s happened.”

“So what? You just hate me now?”

“I don’t hate you, you self centered asshole! I should, I have every fucking right to after the last year we spent together, and I wish I did, but I don’t! You’ve been attacking me! I’m sorry that you decided to pursue the one person your best friend was in love with, and I’m sorry that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t love you the way I’ve always loved Steve. I’m sorry that I cheated on you with Steve and it broke your heart even more. However, a lot of this shit could’ve been avoided if you would’ve just stayed away! I’m not your fucking scapegoat anymore, James. You’re finally getting what you want, and you’re still not happy-” “I don’t have you! I don’t have what I want-”

“You had me and then decided to treat me like an object! I can’t do anything about the fact that you treated me like total fucking trash, James! That’s on you, not me,” you state as the timer goes off.

As you turn off the stove top, Charlotte makes her way into the kitchen and sits patiently.

“You know better little miss,” you laugh softly, “go lay down.”

She huffs, but gets up and walks back to her bed nonetheless, and your heart flutters at Steve’s soft chuckle. 

“So, that’s it?” Bucky huffs.

“I honestly don’t know what else you expect. I don’t know what more you want to know. Everything you’ve asked, I’ve been honest about, everything you deserve an apology for, I’ve apologized for...what else is there to say? What else is there to do?” you ask as his phone goes off.

Pulling it out (rather aggressively), he mutters, “what the fuck now?” before getting up and storming out, slamming the door shut behind him.

“If he breaks my house, I’ll break his neck,” you mutter, checking on the broccoli, before taking another sip from your glass.

“It’s Maria. She’s been on edge lately. She’s due in two months and she feels like Bucky’s attention is elsewhere.”

“I wonder why,” you scoff. “What about you? Are you gonna rake me over the coals too?”

“You know better than that, honey,” he sighs heavily. “We don’t have to-”

“You might as well, Steve. It’s why you’re here-”

“I’m here because I’ve missed you like crazy, and I wanted to see you. We’ve already gotten farther than I expected us too.”

“Why?”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d wanna see me or not.”

“I was never angry with you, Steve. Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I still cry over it,” you scoff, rubbing your forehead. 

“Then why-”

“I couldn’t do that to you, Steve. I loved you. I love you. Breaking up your friendship with Bucky? Stealing you from the Avengers-”

“I told you I’d go with you-”

“But you would’ve felt guilty. Yeah, you’d still love me, and you’d be happy to make a life with me anywhere, but you’d feel guilty. You and Bucky? I knew it could get resolved once I was out of the picture, and for the most part, I was right.”

“You didn’t give me a chance-”

“Because you wouldn’t have been logical about it, babe. Neither of us are ever exactly smart when it comes to each other,” you smile softly and he chuckles with a slight nod. “Please understand that it wasn’t something I did lightly, or that I didn’t think about how much it would hurt you. It seems like I’m always hurting you one way or another, and I’ve never wanted that.”

“We always find ways to hurt each other, darlin’. We can’t seem to get this dance right,” he sighs.

“No, we can’t.”

“Whatever you’re making smells amazing,” he smiles weakly.

“One of the many perks of no longer being an Avenger, I get to work on my cooking skills.”

“You’ve always been the best cook, babe,” he compliments as he gets up and makes his way over to you.

Having him so close to you still makes your brain so foggy, even after all this time.

“I’ll leave after dinner-”

“You don’t have to,” you quickly interrupt. “Neither one of you do. I have spare bedrooms...” “You’re comfortable with us staying here?”

“I mean, I’m already feeding the both of you and I don’t want you to spend the money, when there’s no need.”

“Still the most thoughtful person I know,” he whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, and you lean into his touch. “There is something I have to tell you though.”

“Oh God.”

“They know.”

“They who?” “Everyone. I told Tony I’d be gone for a few days, because no matter what happened today, I knew I was gonna need time to recover, and he kept saying that he needs me to train the new recruits. So, I just folded and told him where I was going.”

“Shit.”

“I’m sorry, I really am, but I needed to see you, darlin’. I had no right and it’s your privacy, but I knew he wouldn’t let me go if I didn’t tell him.”

“No, it’s alright. I’m the one that left the way that I did...”

“He wants to see you, they all do.”

“Steve-”

“I didn’t promise them anything, I just told them I’d let you know.”

“I guess I owe it to everyone, don’t I?”

“That’s for you to decide,” he smirks as his eyes study your face. “You smell like vanilla and strawberries.”

“It’s my soap,” you giggle.

“I feel like I should be angry with you. You looked me in the eyes and lied to me.”

“To be fair, you did the same thing, Rogers. For years.”

“That’s true,” he sighs, backing up and leaning against the kitchen island.

Your confusion is short lived when you hear Bucky come storming back in.

“Are you staying over or not?” you ask as the second timer goes off. 

He glares looking from you to Steve, “do you even want me here?”

“Whether I do or don’t isn’t the point. I’ve already made dinner, it’s getting late, and there’s no reason for you to spend money if you don’t have to. If you don’t have to go back tonight, I prefer you to stay where I know you’re safe. The last thing I need is for you to get into an accident on an almost five hour ride home, because you were sulking and not paying attention,” you mutter, dumping the bow ties into a strainer before transfer them to a bowl.

He looks taken aback (in a good way) , before responding with, “thank you,” and grabbing another beer.

“Ya know, I know you two can’t get drunk off of anything I have, but I do have stronger drinks.”

“This is fine, doll. Thank you.”

Well, at least he’s being nicer.

Soon enough, you’re taking the salmon out of the oven and breaking it up, before cutting up the broccoli and adding both to the bow ties. After adding in your homemade white sauce, you add just a bit of lemon juice and mixing it all in together. You can’t lie, it’s nice to cook for someone besides yourself for a change, even if the situation is extremely awkward.

“Uh, darlin’?” Steve asks softly as you take three plates out of your upper cabinet.

“Hmm?”

“Not to be creepy or nosey, but your phone keeps vibrating,” he laughs.

“Ah shit!”

You completely forget to answer the chat between you, Meg, Nat.

“Take as much as you want,” you tell them before sprinting up the steps.

Grabbing it off of the nightstand, you let out a small groan as you see the string of missed texts in the ‘Three Crazies’ chat.

Ms. Widow: I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

Rock n’ Roll Queen: What happened???

Ms. Widow: Steve heard me on the phone with Y/N, and hes taking a few days off go and see her.

Rock n’ Roll Queen: Oh shit! Oh SHIT!

Ms. Window: I think Buck is going too, or something, cause he took a few days off too. Maria found out and she’s freaking the fuck out. 

Rock n’ Roll Queen: Fuck.

Ms. Widow: The whole fucking compound is buzzing, and Bruce is more than upset with me. Y/N, I’m really so sorry.

Rock n’ Roll Queen: Has anyone said anything to you?

Ms. Widow: No, Tony’s been pacing all day and the team is kind of dumbfounded. No one knew where she was, now, both Steve and Bucky are off to see her. No one knows why the divorce happened...no one knows anything.

Rock n’ Roll Queen: Babe, has anyone said anything? Has anyone showed up?

Ms. Widow: Oh God, please answer.

Rock n’ Roll Queen: Starting to get worried here, babe.

Ms. Widow: Please don’t hate me. I’m so damn sorry. I didn’t know Steve was even around.

Y/N: They’re here now, both of them are downstairs eating dinner, and they’re staying over tonight. I’ll talk more after dinner when I’m getting ready for bed. I could never hate you, Nat. You should know that by now.

You place your phone in your back back pocket and run a stressed hand through your hair, pacing before you remember they can both hear you and just stand in the middle of your bedroom. How was everything spiraling so fast? How the fuck were you supposed to explain things without saying too much? Oh God, how the fuck were you gonna deal with Maria?

All of these thoughts were giving you a headache, and you’re growing hungrier by the second. Racing back downstairs, you walk right by the two sets of inquisitive eyes, and make yourself a large helping of the pasta dish into a bowl before showering it with a generous helping of Parmesan cheese.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?” Steve is first to ask, but the look on Bucky’s face lets you know he’s just as worried. 

“Everything is fine, just having a day,” you mutter, grabbing a fork and your drink before making your into your living room, and curling up on the couch.

You honestly aren’t even mad at them, but you’re now trying to navigate how all of this is going to work. You’d closed that chapter of your life, and had dealt with things in your own way, but now? Now, everyone knows and for as much as you hate to admit it, they deserve an explanation. It doesn’t matter that you technically did everything by the book (turning in all your weapons and any sensitive and classified details you had), you still abandoned your friends. The family you got to create. All they want is to see you and know that you’re okay, and who are you to say no? None of them did anything to deserve that.

God, you hope they don’t think you’ll stay. You have no desire for that life anymore, nor do you feel like seeing Maria’s smug fucking face anymore. No, you’re life isn’t exactly quiet now, but it’s a lot more calm and a lot more stable. You have your job, your fur baby, your home-

“Darlin’,” Steve sighs as he sits at the other end of the sofa.

You hadn’t even noticed that Charlotte had sensed your anxiety and stress, and curled up by your toes. 

“I’m sorry, this is my fault-”

“I’m the one who walked away like I did, Steve.”

“Be that as it may, I-we disrupted your privacy. No, I didn’t expect Bucky to follow me, but I...I just needed to see you and didn’t think about anything else. I haven’t seen much of your life out here, but I can tell it’s quiet, you’re happy, and you’re finally at peace. Now, you have a million questions to answer and people to answer to. I’m really sorry, honey.”

“It’s...it’s fine,” you sob, not even understanding why you’re crying.

All at once, all of these emotions just overwhelm you, and you feel as if you’re drowning.

“Darlin’?!”

“What the hell did you do to her?!” you hear Bucky faintly yell.

Everything seems to fade around you and all sound is lost. Your family, friends, past...you have to face them all. Everything you’ve tricked yourself into thinking you’ve healed from is all of a sudden back in your life at once; the scabs all feel torn off and bleed again. Without warning, no easing back into it, and you have no idea what to expect. What if everyone hates you? What if no one even wants to see you? Is Maria the favorite now? Is she in your old office? You faintly feel someone wrap their arms around you, and you honestly don’t care which one of them it is, you just cling to them in a weak attempt to bring yourself back down.

“Darlin’, you’re okay, it’s all okay. Buck and I are right here,” Steve promises with worry laced in every word as he softly rubs your back.

He pulls you close and you can tell he’s trying to regulate your breathing with his own.

“I need you to breathe for me, pretty girl. Deep breaths,” he coos softly.

“M...Meg! Please call Meg,” you sob.

“Call Meg!” he repeats harshly towards Bucky, and you hate yourself for how worried they both are.

You pray that they don’t start arguing, because you don’t know what the hell you’ll do, and you can faintly hear Charlotte whining and feel her little paws on your lap. You haven’t had a panic attack since your second night there, and she’s never seen you have one.

~~

This is only a bit of the final installation of 'My Little Decoy'. You can read the full version here.

[sarahwroteathing]

It’s the Great Pumpkin, Steve Rogers!

[Art Teacher!Steve Rogers x Single Mom!Reader]

Word Count: 3417

Warnings: single mom reader, chaotic bestie Bucky Barnes

Summary: While painting faces at the local harvest festival, Steve sees you and Charlie outside of school for the first time.

A/N: I’m baaaaaaack! Did ya miss me?

Here’s the previous three installments in the Glitterverse, in case you missed them or need a refresh!

Glitter  Cool Kid Table  Silver Star

Steve was in the very serious process of adding purple stripes to a charmingly cartoonish spider he’d painted on a little boy’s cheek when the sound of a bright, happy laugh caught his attention. There was nothing too unusual about that, honestly. He liked seeing people happy, whether he knew them or not, and there had been no shortage of happiness at the Harvest Festival so far. 

The apple bobbing tent was a pretty reliable source of laughter of the triumphant, self-deprecating, and “No, I swear, I’m not laughing at you” varieties.

The pumpkin carving tables were another happiness hotspot as people giggled over each other’s designs and gave the nervous laughs of people utterly unsure of the sharp implements they were holding. 

 This particular laugh came from the exit of the corn maze, and Steve did his very best to ignore the little flutter in his chest when he recognized you, cozy and carefree in an oversized sweater and scarf, spinning a giggling Charlie in increasingly wobbly circles until you both fell onto a nearby hay bale.

“We did it!” he heard you shout, raising both arms above your head.

Charlie’s voice was too soft to catch at this distance, but whatever she said made you laugh again and tug her against your side.

“Excuse me? Are you done?” 

Steve’s eyes snapped forward again, and he fought a flush of embarrassment as he smiled at the boy who was now starting to squirm restlessly on his stool.

“Sorry, almost,” he said. “One second.”

Steve added one last stripe before setting down his paintbrush and reaching for the small mirror tucked between the paint bottles and paper cups. He held it up with a playful flourish that earned him a giggle.

“What do you think?”

The boy inspected his cheek closely, squinting his eyes for a moment before giving a decisive nod.

“It’s good.”

Steve gave the boy a parting smile as he raced back to his grandfather, who was waiting near the donation table and chatting with Bucky. 

The same Bucky Barnes, best friend and bane of his existence, who was now cheerfully waving them off and approaching Steve with such a casual smile that it was immediately suspicious. 

“That last one was barely even a masterpiece, Steve. Are you okay? Coming down with something?”

“Still better than you could do,” he said pointedly, rearranging the paint bottles and rinsing off the brushes he’d used. 

“Rude. I knew something was going on with you,” Bucky said, plopping himself down on a stool and fixing Steve with an expectant look. 

“No, there's not. Now move unless you want me to paint your face.”

“Are you sure you could focus for long enough to paint my face?”

Steve narrowed his eyes. 

“What are you talking about?”

Bucky only smiled.

“I have this sixth sense that tells me when scary things are happening. Like when all the birds go quiet. Or the clouds look freaky. Or Steve Rogers stares longingly at a woman.”

“What are you- I wasn’t-”

“You. Staring. Beautiful woman. I saw it.” 

And Steve knew full well he was betraying himself by glancing towards you again, but it was an impulse he didn’t have time to suppress. You were at a stall this time, talking cheerfully with a baker, a basket hanging from the crook of your arm and Charlie’s hand in yours.

“I’m not… staring. I just…”

You were laughing again, and the baker, a rosy cheeked older woman, handed a loaf of bread over the table to you with a fond smile. 

“Wait, do you know her?” Bucky demanded, recapturing Steve’s attention when he smacked him on the arm. 

“I… yeah.” 

Now well into October, Steve not only saw you every weekday, he also occasionally texted you on weekends. It was never much, only instigated when one of you happened across something that reminded you of the other person. A picture of the mug of apple cider that Bucky had unceremoniously dumped way too much edible glitter in. A picture of your kitchen table covered in old newspapers to protect it from your and Charlie’s watercolor experiments. It was nothing, really. But it made him happy.

“Her?” Bucky repeated, brows raising as he turned to look over his shoulder at you.

“Ye- Please, stop pointing. Yes.”

“Fluffy sweater, cute kid? Her?”

“Bucky.”

“Looking like she just stepped out of a fairytale with a basket of apples, bread, and what I assume is jars of either honey or jam or both?”

“Why are you freaking out?” Steve sighed.

“Because you didn’t tell me about her!”

Steve pursed his lips. “I wasn’t aware you wanted to hear about all my students’ parents.”

Bucky was thoroughly unamused.

“Steve. You told me when you changed dish soap, but you didn’t tell me that you’re now living a romance novel. What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

“Hey!” Steve said, wacking him with a roll of paper towels. “Bucky, there are kids.”

“What the fudgesicle is wrong with you?” Bucky repeated in an identical tone.

“My life is not a romance novel. Take it easy. We’re just friends.”

“Oh, I’m sure you are,” he answered with a humorless laugh. “But you didn’t tell me about her. Which means you’re considering something that you’re not sure you should be considering. And you knew that if you told me, I would easily talk you into it.”

Steve took a moment to process that, glancing over at you again and straightening up in surprise when he caught your eye. You smiled, wide and genuine, raising a hand in a greeting that he quickly mirrored.

“That’s ridiculous,” Steve said quickly when you had turned away again, only half paying attention now because you were talking to Charlie, gesturing in his direction.

“I agree. But I’m right.”

You were walking their way now, and this conversation needed to be over right now.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a pain in the ass?”

“Steven. Please. The children.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a pain in the apple?” 

“You. Fairly often. And Sam even more often. But luckily his opinion means nothing to me.”

And while there were a hundred things Steve would love to say about that, there wasn’t time.

“Bucky, I swear, we can talk about it for as long as you want later, but right now I need you to act like a normal human being,” he said urgently. 

“Is she right behind me?”

“About to be.”

“Fine.”

Bucky plastered on an only slightly manic smile as he turned to greet you. 

“Hello! Interested in some face paint?”

You seemed caught off guard by the exuberant greeting, but recovered quickly.

“I think so, yes. How much?”

“Free! But we’re also collecting donations for the Woodbridge Elementary art program.”

“I see,” you said, eyes flickering to Steve for a moment. “Well, we kinda like the art program, don’t we?”

“Yep!” Charlie said, also peeking around Bucky to offer a tiny smile to Steve.

“Alright then. Go ahead and tell Steve what you want, and I’ll take care of the money stuff.”

You followed Bucky a few steps away to the donation table, and Charlie skipped up to him.

“Hi,” she said, waiting for him to pat the open stool before sitting down.

“Hi, Charlie. Know what you want yet, or do you want to look at some pictures?”

“Umm…” Her forehead scrunched a little as she thought. “Can you do a cat with a witch hat? Is that too hard? You can just do a pumpkin if that’s too hard.”

“Well, I think a cat with a witch hat is an awesome idea!” Steve said with a smile. “I’ll do my best, and if it doesn’t turn out right, we can try something else. Sound good?”

“Sounds good,” she said with a nod.

Steve set out some clean brushes, a new cup of water, and a clean paper towel. 

“What color cat?”

“Orange?”

He nodded, setting up little dixie cups of orange, black, yellow, brown, and green paint.

“Alright, are you ready? It’s going to feel a little cold.”

“I’m ready! I’ll be real still,” she vowed, clenching her hands into determined little fists on her knees.

Steve started with a few dabs of color until Charlie relaxed a little, used to the sensation.

“Are you having fun at the festival?” he asked a few moments later, tracing the outline of a cat on her cheek.

“Yeah! We did the maze without a map! And we got bread for later. Mom’s making spaghetti for dinner!”

“Yum! Do you like spaghetti?”

“It’s my favorite. Mom always makes cheesy bread.”

“Well, this is going to be a good day then, huh? What else are you going to do?”

“Umm, we still have to pick our pumpkins! And, there are these earrings mom really likes over at the corn maze, but she won’t buy them. I think she should buy them.”

“Oh yeah?” Steve glanced over at the stall near the entrance to the corn maze. He’d spoken to that woman before a few times. She was a local artist who liked to make jewelry and print her abstract watercolor art on scarves. “What do they look like?”

“Like shiny green rocks and little gold leaves. She’ll look like a fairy.”

Steve smiled at the admiration in her voice, but before he could say anything, you wandered back over with Bucky.

“Oh my goodness. Charlie, you’re a masterpiece!” 

She smiled proudly as Steve added a last little detail to the cat’s witch hat before leaning back.

“All done,” he said, holding up the mirror for her. “What do you think?”

Her eyes widened along with her smile.

“It’s perfect! Thank you!”

“You’re very welcome.”

“Your turn,” Charlie said, hopping up from the stool and nudging you towards it.

“Is that allowed?” you laughed.

“If you want, then of course it is,” Steve said with an easy smile.

You turned to Charlie, smiling at her eager nod.

“Alright then. What should I get?”

“We could match! Or get an even bigger cat. Ooo! A tiger!”

“You heard the lady. One tiger in a witch hat, please,” you laughed, dropping into the stool beside Steve and setting your basket and purse down on the ground beside you.

“Mama, can I get my book?” Charlie asked, eyes on your purse.

“Yeah, of course. Big pocket.”

“There’s an extra chair at the donation table if you don’t mind sitting next to me,” Bucky told her as she liberated her book from your very full purse.

Charlie smiled a little shyly and nodded, following Bucky back to the donation table with a parting wave to you.

“How did I end up with the best kid in the world?” you asked, eyes following Charlie as Steve set up the paints.

“Mm, you and Tony might have to fight about that one.”

“Aw, Morgan is pretty great. I’m surprised she’s not here! It seems like the kind of thing she’d love.”

“They’re coming tomorrow, I think. Don’t be surprised if Pepper calls later to invite Charlie,” Steve said with a smile, dabbing orange paint onto a clean brush. “You ready?”

“Mhmm. Make me pretty, Mr. Rogers.”

“You manage that on your own. I’m just adding a pretty tiger,” he said quietly, fighting down a blush when you glanced at him with surprise. 

He cleared his throat. 

“Try not to move,” he said, hoping the cold paint would distract you as he began.

“Not moving. One of my favorite activities,” you said with a flicker of a smile. 

“For a not-mover, I hear you did pretty great in the corn maze.”

“Oh, that was all Charlie. If it was just me, I’d still be lost in there somewhere. Probably crying.”

Steve laughed.

“I’m sure someone would have saved you eventually.”

“Don’t know about that. I don’t imagine anyone having much sympathy for an adult sobbing alone in a corn maze.”

“Well, fine, then I would’ve saved you,” Steve said, catching an errant wind-blown strand of your hair before it could land in the wet paint. He tucked it gently behind your ear. 

Sitting this close to you, he heard your breath catch slightly, saw your blink land a little harder than normal.

“Sorry,” he said softly. “Didn’t want you to get paint in your hair.”

“Already saving me,” you said with a quiet little laugh. “You have a habit of doing that.” 

“You give me too much credit.”

“I don’t think I do. Saving someone doesn’t have to be some huge gesture. It can be something like… Cheering me up at an open house. Looking out for Charlie and making her smile every day. Giving someone grumpy a sticker. Being a friend,” you ventured, giving a delicate shrug so as not to move too much. 

Steve’s heart gave a little flutter, gave him permission to brush your hair back from your face again, though none of it was in danger of dragging through paint this time. 

“I like being your friend.”

“I like it too,” you said quietly.

Steve took a breath, less steady than he would have preferred, as he added one final dab of paint.

“Ready to see?”

“Absolutely.”

You called Charlie back to your side as Steve held up the mirror for you. You beamed at your reflection.

“Love it!”

“Good.”

The three of you exchanged a few more pleasantries before you and Charlie headed off into the crowds again. Bucky wasted no time. They were barely out of earshot when he dropped into the stool in front of Steve with an expectant grin.

“Go away,” Steve sighed. “Unless you want me to paint your face.”

“Oh, sure. Paint little hearts all over it. Then it’ll match yours,” he said smugly.

“Stop.”

“I like being your friend,” Bucky quoted in a dramatic voice. “Do you know how many times you’ve said that to me? None. None times. We’ve been friends since we were five, Steve.”

“Yeah, because I don’t like being your friend. You’re annoying.”

“She’s pretty. She’s nice. She’s fun. She’s not wearing a ring, and she didn’t mention anything about a partner. Her daughter is the chillest kid I’ve ever been around. What’s the problem?”

“There’s no problem, Bucky.”

“Then why are you not attached at the lips? Does she have the plague? Do you have the plague?”

“She has a daughter. She doesn’t date.”

That, at least, finally shut Bucky up. He narrowed his eyes, thinking for a moment.

“Did she tell you that?”

“Tony told me that. Not that I asked.”

“And Tony heard it from…?”

“Pepper.”

“Who heard it from…?”

Steve gestured in the direction you’d walked.

“Hmm…”

“She doesn’t feel comfortable bringing men around Charlie.”

“She brings you around Charlie.”

“I’m her art teacher. It’s not the same.” 

Bucky tapped restlessly at the table for another moment.

“I’m gonna think about this and get back to you.”

“Oh, please do,” Steve said sarcastically.

“Hey,” Bucky nudged him until he made eye contact, his expression much more serious now. “I mean it. You really like her, don’t you?”

“...Yeah,” Steve said with a helpless shrug. “So I’m happy to be her friend.”

“You really like her,” Bucky repeated firmly. “So we’ll figure it out. Because I’m pretty sure she likes you too.”

“Thanks Buck.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighed, pushing up from the stool and knocking Steve’s shoulder with a light punch. “There’s a reason you keep me around, you know. Now stop frowning. You’re scaring the children.” 

Things returned to business as usual for about an hour. Steve painted a dozen more faces, had just finished a matching set of bumblebees on a tiny redhead and her grandmother when Bucky came jogging over again.

“Go, go, go!” he said urgently, shoving Steve out of his seat.

“What, why? Go where?” Steve asked, barely catching himself before he could hit the ground.

Bucky didn’t answer, grabbing the top of Steve’s head to steer his eyes in the right direction.

You and Charlie were laboring towards the parking lot, Charlie weighed down with a basket, tote bag, and your purse while you were nearly doubled over, rolling an enormous pumpkin across the patchy grass.

“Absolutely not,” he said quietly to himself, dodging around the edge of his table and running your direction.

“Whatcha got there?” he laughed, easily catching up to the two of you.

“The great pumpkin!” Charlie chimed in as you gave another shove to your regretfully chosen and mightily overgrown gourd.

“Are you sure? It’s not even sparkly,” Steve said, squinting speculatively.

“She’s sure,” you said, straightening up for a moment and swiping your hands on your jeans. “So we are escorting him to the car the best way we can. Him?” you asked, glancing at your daughter.

“Him.”

“Him,” you repeated, gesturing matter-of-factly at the pumpkin. 

“Got it. And would your giant orange gentleman like another escort to ease his journey?”

You made a face like you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry and settled for flinging your arms around him in a loose hug. 

“God, please. I will give you all the money in my wallet. I’ll give you my credit card. Would you like my social security number?”

Steve laughed, gently returning your hug for a brief moment before turning to face the pumpkin.

“Alright, pal. Let’s get you where you need to be.”

He squatted low to get his arms under it, straightened up with a low grunt as he hefted it up, leaning back slightly to take some of the weight on his chest. It wasn’t too heavy for him to manage, but the size and shape made it awkward to hold. Once he had it reasonably secure, he looked to you for direction, finding both you and Charlie staring at him with eyes as wide as you could make them. 

“Tell me where I’m going. I can’t see too well over this guy.”

You snapped into action then, taking your purse and basket from Charlie.

“Charlie, steer,” you said, pointing at Steve. “I’ll run and pull the car around.”

Charlie took up her station beside Steve, her hand on his elbow. You took off towards the parking lot, digging in your purse as you ran. 

“What are you going to name him?” Steve asked as Charlie gently steered him around clusters of oblivious people standing between him and the festival entrance. 

“I don’t know yet,” she said thoughtfully. “I didn’t think mom would say yes.”

“Let me know when you decide! I’m sure you’ll think of a great one.” 

“Are you okay? Is it too heavy?” she checked anxiously. 

“I’m alright,” he said with a laugh. 

You only kept them waiting for a minute before pulling up to the front entrance, popping the trunk before running over to them. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you said breathlessly, placing your hands on the pumpkin to help stabilize as Steve lowered it into the trunk of your car. 

“No problem,” he said, brushing his hands clean on his jeans, sighing when he noticed the drips of paint he’d managed to get on them. 

“Thank you, Mr. Steve,” Charlie said, hesitating for a moment before giving him a quick hug and fleeing to the back seat. 

Your eyes were soft as you stared after her, mouth curled into an amused smile.

“She’s never hugged me before,” Steve said quietly, feeling kind of like his heart might explode.

“Sweet girl. Did she call you Mr. Steve?” you asked with a laugh.

“Yeah, I told her she could just call me Steve outside of class. That’s the closest she’s gotten.”

“So cute,” you said with a sigh, shaking your head as if to clear it. “Anyway, thank you so much for your help. And for the face paint.”

“You’re very welcome.”

“It was nice seeing you,” you said warmly, squeezing his arm in goodbye as you took a step back toward the car. “Outside of school, I mean.”

“Nice seeing you too. Enjoy the rest of your weekend. And hey, if you decide to come back tomorrow with the Starks, come say hi before you leave.”

“I’ll let you know.”

You waved before settling back into the driver’s seat, and Steve backed towards the festival entrance, only turning to head back to the face paint table when you had driven away. 

At the last second, he swerved towards the jewelry booth, in search of shiny green rocks and little gold leaves.

---------------------

A slice of fall in June. Hope you enjoyed it! Would love, love, love to hear what you think of this little development!

As always, reblogs, replies, and asks make my world go round. Can’t do what I do without you!

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[theaawalker]

Only Fools Fall in Love | Steddie Imagine

Pairing: Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson Song Inspo: Andrew by Ben Platt Word Count: 2,574 Summary: Steve Harrington has a crush on Eddie Munson. Eddie Munson has a crush on Steve Harrington. Neither of them want to address it for various reasons. They're just two idiots in love. Warnings: angst, slowburn Masterlist: see fandoms (pc-friendly)

After defeating Vecna and barely escaping the upside down, Steve knew his life was never going to be the same again. He no longer had the pleasure of being blissfully unaware of the darkness that surrounded Hawkins. He knew about the creatures that lurked in the shadows. Knew how powerful they were and the amount of damage they had caused to their little town, how many lives were lost in the mix of creatures that were never supposed to exist.

They were supposed to be fiction, stories told to kids to keep them in their homes at certain times, to scare them into staying safe and not wondering into the forest alone at night. Unfortunately, those things were very real, too real for Steve's liking.

Some days he wished to be one of those dense high school kids who only cared about their reputation and didn't know what was happening in the world around them. He wished to be like the old Steve, the one who only cared about hooking up, parties and Nancy Wheeler. He loved her in a way he never thought he could love; she awakened something in him that he didn't know existed. Then she was ripped out of his life without even the slightest warning, she left him, she didn't love him. She said it was all bullshit. They were bullshit.

He knew now that she was right about it all, they were bullshit. Neither of them were ready or mature enough for a relationship, they were too different, too young and too foolish. Nancy was better with Jonathan, they had bonded over their trauma and Steve was jealous at first, but after seeing that massive smile on her face, he knew that she had exactly who she needed. It stung, seeing them together, they were everywhere he went, and he hated it. So, he went to parties and got piss drunk to forget and occasionally he stopped by that disgusting trailer park to buy from Eddie Munson.

Eddie "The Freak" Munson was the best dealer in town, he always had a fixed supply unlike some of the other idiots who couldn't keep up with the demand. Steve didn't necessarily like Eddie that much, he was too loud, too dramatic, too all over the place and too different. He was what Steve never could be, unapologetically different.

He never apologized for being who he was, he never cared what anyone thought or said about him. In fact, he played into it, he wore the term 'Freak' like a badge of honor and used it to scare off any potential threats. It worked most of the time, while people found him annoying, they never did anything to psychically stop him.

That irritated Steve even more. Eddie got away with being himself. Steve wished he could just exist without the fear of getting judged or trampled on. So, he worked his way up the high school ranks and became King Steve, someone everybody wanted to be or be with. None of it was true though, he was never a king. He was never any of the things they made him out to be, well except a douche. He was definitely a douche.

So now, two years after graduating high school, he had finally accepted that life was never going to be easy for him. He would never get to be his true self in front of everyone, he would never get to show the real Steve to all of Hawkins. He'd probably get beaten up or killed for it to be fair.

"Hey dingus" Robin's voice broke through his train of thought, "stop staring into space, we've got customers to attend to."

He shot her a glare before turning to the customer at the register who was returning some of the tapes she rented. His face softened when he saw the girl staring at him nervously.

"Sorry about that," he stated, "will you be renting anything else today, or just returning?"

The girl shrugged, twirling a piece of her blonde hair around her finger, "I haven't decided yet, I still have to have a look. Any suggestions?"

"Uh... Fire With Fire seems to be a hit right now, it's in the romance section"

"Are you into romance?" She asked in what he assumed was supposed to be a flirty voice.

He shrugged, "not really. I just watch whatever, but I've heard it's a good movie." He turned to Robin and smirked, "Rob and I are actually going to watch it together tonight."

A deep red blush covered the girl's cheeks at the thought of flirting with a taken man, "I'm so sorry, I have no idea."

Steve waved her off, "it's okay, happens to the best of us."

Robin scowled at him as the customer scurried away after deciding that she definitely wasn't going to rent Fire With Fire now. She thanked them and nearly ran out of the store.

"Really Steve. Using me as your repellant. Usually, you manage to get rid of the girls just be being yourself." she teased before going to the back and adding another strike under the 'You Suck' column.

Steve sat on the counter and watched her return from the break room, he wanted to tell her the truth, but he has been struggling to get the words out for the last year. It was scary being open like this, having someone know everything about you was terrifying and he didn't want it to change anything between them. She was his best friend and he loved her. He didn't want this stupid shit to come between them, he didn't want to lose the one person who understood him the best.

Losing Nancy was hard but losing Robin would probably kill him, she was his biggest support and he truly appreciated and cherished their friendship. What started out as a stupid crush on his coworker quickly turned into the most meaningful friendship he has ever had. The possibility of losing that scared him more than the monsters they faced over the last three years.

"Steve. Seriously what's up?" Robin spoke up again, a concerned look on her face, "you've been spacing out all day and you keep getting this look on your face that looks like you want to do something stupid and it's freaking me out. Are you okay? Is it Vecna? Is he still alive? Is it me? Oh god. Did I do something to make you hate me and now you want to quit your job and move away and never see me again. You've probably already packed to leave and now you're trying to think of a way to break it to m–"

"Robin, breathe. God. I'm not going anywhere" he cut her off, "I've just got a lot on my mind, and it doesn't have anything to do with Vecna or the upside down or any of that crazy shit. I'm just trying to figure out a few things."

She nodded "sorry. I got a little carried away."

They shared a laugh before going silent again, a comfortable air settling between them as they got back to work. It was a relatively quiet day in Family Video, so they didn't really do much and soon their shift came to an end and Steve got ready to lock up while Robin waited in his car.

"Hey Harrington, fancy seeing you here" he heard a familiar voice pipe up behind him.

"I work here Eddie" he said flatly.

Eddie tsked, "I'm well aware of that Stevie, I was just being courteous."

"Stevie?" He questioned.

He and Munson became kind of friends after the whole Upside Down incident. Watching Eddie nearly bleed to death made him realize that he came to like Eddie in the short time they spent together. He learnt a lot about the guy while running away from Vecna and the enraged townspeople who believed that Eddie was a satanic murderer.

The stakes were high but somehow Eddie always managed to inject humor into every situation to make it feel a lot less intense. He had a way of making people comfortable around him, of making them feel at ease. It was surprising yet welcomed at the time and watching him so close to death made the entire gang realize how much Eddie Munson truly meant to them.

He was one of them now, a part of the club, a trusted member. So, it wasn't weird for him to be here, speaking to Steve.

"Well Stevie, I figured since we escaped death together and kicked Vecna's tentacle ass we're basically friends now. There's nothing wrong with giving your friend a nickname now is there, Steve? "

Eddie had that wide eyed look on his face, the one that made Steve squirm in place, his stare was always intense. Steve felt as if he was staring into his soul, trying to unravel every dark secret locked up inside of him. Yet the casual smile on his face said the opposite, it contradicted his beady eyes in the best way possible. The perfect balance of intense and soft, which was exactly how Steve would describe Eddie.

He cleared his throat, trying his best to ignore the slight warmth in his cheeks, "uh. Sure. Yeah. Stevie... I like it"

Eddie chuckled at his flustered state, "I actually came by to invite you and Robin to a movie night at my place. Tomorrow at 7, don't be late Harrington."

Steve watched him walk off without waiting for a response, and while he tried to mill over everything Eddie said, he only managed to get stuck on the fact that Eddie referred to him as 'Harrington' again. He wasn't sure why it upset him that much, it was his surname after all, but after being called Stevie, hearing his last name out of Eddie's lips no longer sounded right.

He wanted to be called Stevie. He wanted Eddie to call him Stevie every day, because the way he said it made his stomach do the slightest flip. The way he drawled it out in that raspy voice of his, made it sound so much better than it would sound if anyone else said it. He wanted to be Eddie's Stevie.

That thought stumped him, because he had never thought of another guy like that. He never felt that happy to hear a guy give him a nickname. But to be fair, Eddie Munson wasn't just another guy. He was different. Special.

Tuesday came rolling around and Steve was on edge the entire day, he had hung out with Eddie before, but this somehow felt different. So much so that he was nervous and jittery the entire day and Robin teased him about it at every chance she got.

"It's just a movie, Steve, why are you freaking out?" She questioned, "We hung out with Eddie before, and you always enjoyed it. You know better than anyone else, that he's not what the town makes him out to be."

"I know that, Rob. That's not the issue, it's just different this time and I don't know how to explain it. Like it's been a year since all that crazy shit happened and I'm still adjusting to having Eddie around more."

"Do you not want to hang out with him anymore?" she moved around the store sorting tapes while they spoke.

"No!" he said louder than he meant to. "No... I like hanging out with Eddie, he's fun. It just feels different. I don't know how to explain it."

"Well, you have all the time in the world to figure it out. Now that the world isn't ending anymore you can think about whatever it is you're feeling and deal with it when you're ready."

He nodded; she was right. There was no rush to figure his stupid thoughts out, all he had to do was get through tonight. He was nervous for some reason and kept wondering who would be there, would Eddie have invited Nancy and Jonathan as well?

He didn't know if he wanted an answer to that question right now. Being unaware was a blessing in certain situations.

Steve stepped into Eddie's new trailer and settled down beside Robin, a smile plastered on his face as he turned to Nancy and Jonathan who were squeezed together on a love seat. The government helped clear Eddie's name and gave him and his uncle a brand-new trailer in a more reserved side of town. It was bigger and it was fully furnished so it quickly became their hang out when they wanted to escape reality for a bit.

Steve raised a brow at Robin when Vickie made her way into the trailer after them.

"Did you know she was coming?"

Robin leaned closer and whispered her response, "yeah. I invited her. Hope you don't mind?"

Steve shrugged, "of course I don't mind. I'm glad you finally upped your game, Rob." He teased.

"Shut up. You can't even get a date." She bit back, motioning for him to scoot over so Vickie could squeeze in the seat beside her.

Eddie came back into the room with beers for everyone and a few rolled up joints, he passed the beers around and sat next to Steve.

"Hope you don't mind our medicinal addition, it helps mellow us out a bit" he said to Vickie, a charming smile on his face.

Steve felt a tinge of jealousy shoot up within him when Vickie giggled and told him she didn't mind at all. It was stupid of him to get jealous over something that simple, but he managed to convince himself that he was only pissed because Eddie shouldn't be putting moves on Robin's date.

Eddie noticed the look on Steve's face, his brows all scrunched and the slightest pout to his lips. He looked adorable, like an angry kitten, Eddie wanted to kiss that stupid little pout away.

He always had a slight crush on Steve "The Hair" Harrington. Who didn't? Steve was hot, with his perfect hair, those big brown eyes, that amazingly toned body and that gorgeous smile that he flashed Eddie with whenever Eddie teased him too much. Steve was perfect and Eddie struggled daily to keep his feelings in check. He didn't want their blossoming friendship to fall apart simply because he couldn't keep it in his pants. Plus falling for straight men was a big no in the Munson doctrine so he had to stick to his rules and keep whatever playful banter they had going on extremely platonic.

Although a little teasing never hurt and seeing Steve blush was always worth it, so he leaned forward and whispered, "Is that jealousy I'm detecting? Wipe that pout off your face. Vickie's got nothing on you, big boy."

Steve felt his face heat up and bit back the smile that threatened to pull at his lips. His stomach did an entire back flip at the tone of Eddie's voice. The hairs on his neck stood up as his breath hit his skin. His entire body went rigid as the words big boy slipped out of Eddie's mouth again. This was the first time Eddie had said it since the upside down and somehow it felt more intense now, it felt different.

Eddie Munson would be the death of him and based off the smug smirk on his face, he definitely knew what he was doing.

• ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ •

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[ghostlyfleur]

okay, so hear me out— i’ve been thinking about steve having an artist’s soul and being so in love with the reader who is his close friend and it’s very obvious but she’s oblivious, right? like maybe he writes poems about her, is always drawing her, taking polaroids of her more than with her… and it’s gotten to a point where he knows she’s oblivious and can’t take a hint so he doesn’t even try to hide it from anyone… until maybe she figures out that she’s basically steve’s muse somehow and doesn’t know what to do because what do you mean the guy she’s pining after feels for her like this? and then he’s either like “well, wasn’t it obvious?” or he gets super embarrassed and blushy and he’s stuttering so she just takes ahold of his shaky hands and he stutters his way through asking her out finally

[floredaqueen]

DON'T BE FOOLED

by their sweet smiles and cute outfits.. they feed on absolute chaos.

♡!HOPE YOU ENJOY!♡

[navybrat817]

Sin on Skin AU

Pairings: Various men with female readers. ❤️

AU Summary: Sin on Skin is the hottest tattoo parlor in town and the men who run it live up to the name. And as luck would have it, they only have eyes for you. 🔥

AU Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), oral sex (m. and f. receiving), dirty talk, fluff, flirting, feels, slowish burn (depending on the couple), slight angst, porn with feels (it's me, lovelies), more to be added.

A/N: You lovelies know me by now! I hope you all enjoy this AU and the various pairings. Please heed the warnings before each post and I will update as time allows. Banner and moodboard by yours truly. Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics . Tattoo edits by the talented Nix and the "Andy" edit by the amazing @randomagnes0210 . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky Barnes x Baker!Reader - Hottie and Sugar

🧁 Sugar and Spice

🧁 And Everything Nice

🧁 What Dreams Are Made Of

🧁 Sweet and Strong

🧁 Sundresses and Leather

🧁 Innocent and Sinful

🧁 Ladies and Gentleman

🧁 Rules and Chaos

🧁 Traditions and Innovation

Steve Rogers x Teacher!Reader - Thorn and Rose

🌹 Every Rose Has Its Thorn

🌹 By Any Other Name

Andy Barber x Reader - Grumpy and Sunny

☀️ A Sunny Outlook

Hal Carter x Reader - Menace and Angel

Jake Jensen x Reader

Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

[biohazzrds]

He’s had a long day, like do you know how it feels like launching a mf across the room???

[saber-monet]

made these a while back. they look so cozy!!

[munsonsreputation]

I THINK THERE'S BEEN A GLITCH

CHAPTER ONE - WE WERE SUPPOSED TO BE JUST FRIENDS

series masterlist | chapter two ↣

🎧 soundtrack

steve harrington x fem!baker + artist

word count: [20.2K]

warnings: no use of y/n, lots of mentions of self deprecation, reader talking about an emotionally exhausting past bf, steve talking shit abt his parents, cursing, steve & reader crushing on each other so mutual pining, lots of sweetness and fluff &lt;3

summary: you make friends with a girl named Robin who politely and hilariously mistakes some red paint on your jeans as blood. Who knew it would lead to you and her becoming friends and her inviting you to meet her other ones? The even bigger mystery is how her best friend, Steve, is starting to become someone you’re falling for.

Steve Harrington’s living room was packed. Not that it was particularly out of the ordinary since his place was the go-to spot for hangouts, but today it had been packed for a different reason and a new arrival. Though it seemed Robin was the only uneasy person even when she was the one who had begged for this to happen.

Trying to cope, she began fluffing up the couch pillows and straightening the books on the coffee table while she rambled. 

“She’s cool. I mean, she paints, for one, like totally realistic paintings, but she also really loves baking!”

Mike rolled his eyes, puffing dramatically and deciding to take a flop down on the couch where she just tidied up, “She sounds like my grandma.” 

“Piss off!” Robin hissed, smacking his knee as the rest of their friends watched on at the repartee. 

Steve was the skeptical one about the whole situation, considering what could happen if Robin’s new friend wasn’t entirely who she was supposed to be. It’s not that he didn’t trust Robin’s whole intuition about people, but you seemed too good to be true. Almost like a fantasy because the person Robin described to all of them for the past few weeks was pure perfection.

Even everyone else was beginning to question if meeting at Steve’s house for the first time was a good idea, realizing that you could be a creep or a murderer, but they were just being a tad bit dramatic. Before he could think too much into it than he already was, the doorbell rang, catching everyone’s attention and eyes that darted towards the front door.

“I’ll get it!”

Robin clapped her hands excitedly, darting to the door and unlocking it with vigor before opening it wide enough so she and everyone else could get a good look at you. 

You stood in the doorway with a big smile and your hands full. One balancing a bright yellow ceramic dish on your palm, and your other arm busy holding a covered frame between your body. 

You wore a white skirt, decorated with itty bitty eyelets that resembled a daisy cutout and a white top with the same pattern to match. A brown shoulder bag draped across your chest and a pair of strappy sandals on your feet. 

Only when you inched forward, meeting cheek to cheek with Robin, in an endearing hello, did they finally get a good glance at what you looked like.

Bright eyes, wispy lashes, and lids covered in the tiniest amount of sheer glitter. A glow from within on your cheeks and high points, like the sun and pretty pink petals were rushing to the surface of your skin. Dewy lips coated in gloss and flickers of sparkles that shined through your smile that you wore throughout the interaction.

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” was the first thing that came out of your mouth and the first time they had heard your voice. 

Robin shook her head, opening the door wider and prompting you in, “don’t be!”

You looked around in curiosity, taking in the architecture and feel of the home before being greeted with a few smiles and waves from the strangers around the living room.

You returned it, though it never really dared to leave your face to begin with. Softly speaking out a few, “hi’s” and “hello’s” to them before turning towards Robin and holding out a big frame towards her.  

“Happy Birthday!” You declared gleefully as she stared at you confused.

The rest of her friends murmuring something about possibly forgetting her birthday, just as puzzled as her. 

She stuttered, trying to recall if she might have told you the wrong date or something, “I-It’s not my birthday?” 

Your cheek met your shoulder shrewdly, once again pushing the gift towards her, “I know! But I wanted an excuse to give you this.” 

You juggled the canvas into your hands, trying your best not to drop the pie pan. Robin reached her hands out, taking the pie from you as you flashed her a thankful smile, pulling the cover off the canvas to present her with a small gift of gratitude. 

“Tah-Dah!” You singsonged, turning the canvas towards her and watching the shock and amazement that covered her face before a wide smile appeared followed by the “oh’s” and “ah’s” of her friends that you completely forgot about.

Robin spun her arms to the left of her, hastily handing the pie to Steve who took it and placed it on the coffee table. The front entrance of his home, now the new crowded spot as everyone marveled at the artwork. He quickly joined in, not wanting to miss an ounce of it, finding an open spot between you and Robin. 

He took it all in, eyes fixed on the print that was gushing with blossoms of her favorite colors: sage green, mauve, and pale yellow. But it wasn’t an ordinary painting—the petals were formed with dollops of the paint, and it probably took days to dry. It was rare, something that he and the others had never seen before. 

His fingers brushed the paint petals, careful not to mess up your handwork,“This is incredible….” 

Flickering his gaze to you, he flashed you a toothy smile, letting his hand pull back from the canvas and stick out towards you.

“I’m Steve, by the way.” He extended his arm, making a sweeping gesture to catch your attention.

Tearing your eyes away from Robin’s heartwarming reaction, your sights drifted to the hand, then to the owner of it, instantly captivated by his friendliness and allure. Your stare lingered a bit too long, lost in trying to memorize him, so you shook your head, internally cursing yourself for the trance you fell into. 

“Oh, sorry! It’s nice to meet you!” Quickly you handed the entire piece to Robin, adverting your full attention to the new acquaintance whose house you just barged into. 

You knew just from the looks of it that he was Steve Harrington, the guy that Robin had described to you as being her insanely attractive yet idiotic best friend.

His hair, like Robin had described, was unquestionably perfect, falling into place as if he didn’t even try. Robin let you in on a secret that he was infamously called “King Steve” throughout high school for being so good with the ladies—now you were sure you knew why.

He chuckled when you grabbed his hand firmly, shaking it with vigor like how a father would but without the cynical look on your face. Instead, you looked genuinely thrilled, twinkling eyes and a broad smile gracing your lips. 

“Great to finally meet you. Robin’s been yapping all week about her new friend.” 

You laughed quietly, finally letting go of his hand and reaching over to sling your arm across Robin’s shoulder. She leaned into you, nuzzling her head against yours with a content look on her radiant face.

“Well, she’s been raving about all of her friends, so I just knew I had to meet you all.” 

Robin smirked, finally giving you a hug and murmuring a curt thank you for the generous gift and turning to all of her friends while keeping you close to her side. 

“Everyone, this is my new friend. I met her last week and now we’re attached to the hip!” Robin announced, her voice carrying a mix of affection and playful teasing.

Steve feigned a gasp, holding a hand over his heart, “Replacing me already?”

“Oh shut up, dingus!” Robin reached forward, whacking him with her palm as he yelped and pretended to be offended. 

A curly-headed boy sporting a baseball cap stepped forward, “Ignore those two, they’re literal children…I’m Dustin!”

You reached your hand out, shaking his before casually everyone began introducing themselves to you. 

Part of you was trying to remember each name connected to a face, but it was also a tad bit overwhelming with so many of them. Making friends was never an easy task for you, but you liked your own solitude, so you didn’t mind. But that also didn’t mean you didn’t long to have friends who you could talk to or hang out with from time to time and share your life with. 

So when Robin tapped you on the shoulder at the grocery store to inform you your period had arrived you were visibly horrified but relieved that she offered you her jacket as you two found the restroom. And in the bathroom you let out a ridiculous laugh, covering your mouth as she stared at you in the mirror’s reflection confused. 

“Red paint! This is paint! I must have sat on it or something!” 

You and Robin hit it off, talking for what seemed like hours inside that grocery store bathroom. The two of you had a habit of over sharing, but it helped you bond and grow closer. After exchanging numbers and spending afternoons on the phone talking and getting to know each other better , she invited you over to a hangout with her friends.

“You guys must have scared her or something.” Robin shook you a bit in her hold to grab you away from a little daydream.

You blinked, looking over at her, then back to her friends watching until you came through, “sorry! sorry! I zone out sometimes…I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be. She does it all the time.” Steve pointed at Robin who stuck her tongue out at him. 

Nancy, the brunette who you remembered as one of the kids’ older sister, stepped forward hooking her arm inside yours, “Okaaaay, here, why don’t you come sit?”

She wore a warm smile and guided you further into the living room. Her touch was gentle, and the gesture alone made you feel like she was happy to have you here, easing a bit of your anxiety. When she unhooked her arm from yours, you mouthed a “thank you,” and she shook it off, just smiling and patting the empty seat beside her. 

You placed your purse down on your lap, while Robin sat on the other side of you. The rest of the friends finding their own area on the opposite couch or on the floor, making you feel less suffocated and more like an inviting circle. 

“Robin tells us that you’re mega cool!” Dustin exclaims followed by a thwack on the head by the red head Max and her boyfriend Lucas who sports the bucket hat. 

Timidly, you swung your head low, feeling a mix of bashfulness and gratitude for her words when you weren’t around. You glanced towards Robin, who beamed with pride because she genuinely thought you were the coolest person she had ever met—probably even on the planet. 

“I don’t think I’m cool…like at all.” You admitted, rubbing a hand up and down your arm.

Robin rolled her eyes, shaking her head at her friends then looking back at you, “She’s too humble, I mean really, she is so super duper cool and I’m shocked she’d even consider being my friend.” 

Jokingly, you nudged her, making her laugh, “Don’t sell yourself short, Robin—“ 

Before you could continue uplifting the spirts of self esteem, the boy with the unruly hair…Mick? Mike! 

Mike cuts in, eyes zeroing in on your torso where you begin to follow. 

“What’s that on your shirt?” He squinted, pointing at the recent stains on your top. 

Peeping your eyes down and looking meticulously, the stain was barely noticeable unless someone was really looking—anyway, the white color was a bit off from the shade of your actual top, and there had been some sort of residue left. 

Nancy realized it at first, seeing that the stain couldn’t be seen to the naked eye, unless her brother was being a disgusting little shithead. She swiftly grabbed the decorative pillow behind her, chucking it towards him.

“You’re such a pig, Mike!” 

Everyone switched their attention from you, and instead pestered and teased Mike for being so “observant” with you here in a spaghetti strap top.

But you attempted to stifle your laughter, not wanting him to feel so embarrassed despite his sudden interjection. You were hoping he wasn’t being a stereotypical depraved teen who couldn’t focus when your shoulders were out.

Instead, you attempted to swipe at it with your fingertips, but alas it didn’t budge and stubbornly clung to the fabric, “ It’s just paint and apparently…” You tugged the portion closer to your nose, scrunching it up, “Sugar. Powdered sugar.” 

The young boy almost looked impressed at your ability to articulate the specific ingredient despite the verbal onslaught he had just faced. “Sick.” 

Robin clicked her tongue, jutting her chin out toward Steve who sat across from you in a recliner. 

“Steve, give her something to change into,” she told him, prompting him to sit up, looking at you and instantly nodding. 

“Yeah, of course, follow me,” He motioned you to follow his lead as he stood up, yet you remained sitting, tipping your head slightly up at him.

You raised one of your brows, “Are you sure? I’m totally ok with it. It’s my fault, anyway.” 

“I’m sure…c’mon, it’s the least I could do.” Steve nodded again, waving his arm towards himself, and you got up.

Trailing behind Steve up the stairs, you marveled at the simplicity of the home despite its expanse. The wallpaper was a muted gray with cream accents and walls encasing the space leading up were decorated with a few framed photographs that you assumed were Steve and his family.

From what Robin had told you, his parents weren’t home too often, if at all, which explained why the photos were outdated and mostly from his childhood, having no evidence of recent portraits.

The hallway towards the bedrooms had a running rug across the wooden floors. The fuzzy textile felt worn yet homey against your feet. Steve’s bedroom was located at the end of the hall, and when he opened up the door, you seemed to feel more of his personality shining in that space. 

“Ignore the mess.” He apologized, twisting open the door to let you in first.

In contrast to the living room and main quarters of the house, his room felt more like himself. 

The wallpaper in his room, plaid with white, green, and black accents and, of course, matching curtains. His bed was somewhat neatly made with the pillows fluffed and gray sheets on the mattress. A few drawers to hold what you assumed were part of his closet and other belongings.

But his desk, which looked to be the most messy yet contained spot of his room, littered with tapes, books, and other papers. The only thing hanging on his wall was a photo of a vintage car that you couldn’t name for the life of you. 

You turned your head to look at him, where he stood, watching you taking in the space with a grin,“You’re actually really neat…neater than I am.” 

Steve let out a grunt, chuckling to himself as he turned to his accordion wardrobe doors and opened them in search of finding you something without a stain. It didn’t help that he had forgotten to do a fresh load of laundry, but that the rest of his clean shirts were polos and hoodies. 

“So are you from Hawkins?” He wondered, sifting through the hangers. 

“No, I’m from Roane, actually! I only really come to Hawkins for the art store but last weekend I decided to run my errands here since I was already in town and that’s how I met Robin.”

You explained, your fingers absentmindedly rubbing the fabric of your shirt between the stain still trying to get it out.

Steve plucked a hoodie from the rack, holding it up in front of you, trying to decipher its comfort. The fabric was way too thick, and he was certain that in this Hawkins weather you’d be drowning in not only a puddle of fleece but sweat too.

Shaking his head, he gave you an apologetic glance that you didn’t seem to catch.

“You live alone?” He planted the item back on the hanger and continued to look. 

“Yeah, but I actually used to live with my boyfriend…or ex-boyfriend now,” You clarified, giving up on the stubborn stain and sighing, “we were together for a little while but he just decided things weren’t working out and so he left.” 

He looked back briefly, eyebrows raised in curiosity, “How many years were you guys together…if you don’t mind me asking.” 

You shook your head, reassuring him that it was alright, “Six years.” 

The widening of his eyes made you giggle, but it wasn’t unexpected considering someone your age having a relationship that long wasn’t typically normal.

“Excuse me? Six years! I don’t even think I’ve had a single friend stay in my life for six years.” 

“Seems like a lifetime, right?” You joked with a comical lift to your voice and he nodded like it was the obvious answer, which it was. 

He knew that you both weren’t too far apart in age, both in your early twenties, but it was just shocking to hear that you were in a six year relationship at your age. The longest relationship he had was a year with Nancy Wheeler and even then that seemed like forever, but you must have really fallen deeply in love with your ex if you lasted that long. 

“We kinda just grew out of each other.  It’s kinda inevitable after dating all four years of high school then two years after that. We just realized that we wanted different things in life and by different, he wanted me to “finally start taking life seriously,” or whatever the fuck that meant.”

You rolled your eyes dramatically, making air quotes with your fingers.

So that explains it, he thought to himself.

“He wanted to move out of Indiana?” Steve questioned, turning his attention back to his closet. 

You made a noise, unsure if that fully answered his question. But you moved up beside him, silently asking if it was okay to help him sift through the hangers. Nodding, he shifted over, giving you space to look through the untouched hangers.

You went back to his question, giving him an actual answer, that you hoped would sum up the story that was way too long to tell in whole. 

“Not necessarily…but he just didn’t like the fact that art was not only my hobby, but my passion. He always wanted me to get a real job, you know, those boring ones where you sit at a desk all day and think about what you did so wrong in your past life to be doing paperwork for the rest of it.” 

His eyes followed as your face contorted with revulsion as if that was one of the most heinous jobs in the world, but for someone like you who thrived off creative free rein, it truly was. Steve threw his head, laughing at your expression, finding it truly amusing because for someone like him, he also realized that even if he was a lost young adult, he’d much rather keep working at a VHS store than walk into work everyday wearing an uncomfortable suit and dozing off in meetings. 

His amusement turned your scorned face upside down, abruptly reeling in the fact that he actually found what you said to be funny. And you hoped that he wasn’t being overdramatic just to make you feel better, but you were positive that it wasn’t because it was the type of laughter that had the skin by his eyes creased because of how hard he was laughing—even his arm slinging over his torso, like the laughter was so infectious that it hurt. 

The sound of his hilarity, leaping off the walls of his room like music to your ears, wishing you possessed the ability to always make people laugh this freely, just to witness moments like this. Eventually, though, he settled down, snapping his fingers at you and pointing with a still carefree smile on his lips. 

“That was a good one! Now I’ve gotta use that when my dad keeps bugging me about getting a real job.” He praised, finally turning back the original spot in his closet and plucking it off the rod.

It was a bright yellow long sleeve, the fabric not too thick or thin, but just about right. You reached for the sleeve of it, feeling the material between your fingers, and Steve’s eyes waited for your approval. 

“Feels nice.” You said with a nod, dropping it from your fingertips and letting him slide the garment off the plastic hanger before placing it in your hands. 

He glanced back at the bedroom door, then back to you, “I’ll wait outside the door so you can change.” He offered, letting himself out and closing it behind him.

Inside the room, Steve could hear the soft rustling as you moved, wondering if what he gave you was good enough or if you were being too nice and not wanting to offend him by saying the yellow color was awful. Meanwhile, you placed your top on the lid of his hamper, making a mental note to come back here and retrieve it before you headed back home. 

His voice came through on the other side of the door, breaking the brief silence.

“Sooo…your ex-boyfriend. I’m sure he was a computer science major, right? Totally douchey with a superiority complex?” 

You snorted, pulling the garment over your body and slipping your arms through the sleeves. “You think computer science is douchey?” 

He leaned up against the door frame, humming a reply and then finding the words.

“Yeah, totally, I mean nothing screams douchey than a guy who thinks he’s better than someone because he works with computers and not a paintbrush.” 

Your movements slowed as you pulled your hair free from the collar and fitted the excess material underneath itself so it wasn’t drowning over you. 

There was suddenly that fond pleasant feeling brewing in the pit of your stomach and in the cage of your chest. When Robin had mentioned that Steve was charming, she wasn’t kidding. There was no reason he should have this much of an effect on you so soon. Yet, here he was, effortlessly tearing down your ex-boyfriend and making you feel better about your own endeavors. 

After a few seconds of taking a deep breath to collect yourself, you reached for the doorknob, turning it open to see his body supported by the one arm propped against the wooden frame. You bit your lip, watching his gaze fall down your face to his shirt on your body. 

“Then I’d say you’re right…you guessed it,” Your arms flared out before coming down to your sides, standing there not knowing what else to say considering he had hit the nail head-on. 

For the first time in the last fifteen minutes since he met you, this was the only time you seemed so sheepish. Out in the living room you looked so confident, even when it was obvious that the attention towards you was a little overwhelming, you still could change the subject or revert it somewhere else. Here with your eyes glued to your feet, not meeting him, he felt like you were trapped — that he might have said something that hit a little too close to home and made you uncomfortable. 

His eyes softened, clearly full of regret for being so upfront about a situation he only knew surface level stuff about. Just because you had talked to him a little about the horrible stuff your ex said, didn’t mean he understood the whole story. That there clearly was something deeper, possibly trauma that he didn’t know about and here you were forced to endure the awkward silence and flooding memories of what had happened all because he couldn’t shut up. 

Your view of your feet against the wooden floor was suddenly interrupted by Steve’s hands reaching forward, accompanied by his voice.

“I—I’m sorry, for bringing it up…I didn’t mean to make you feel bad or anything! I-It’s just, he sounds like a total dick and you should know that what he told you isn’t true—“ 

He spoke rapidly, stumbling over his words and making short pauses, making sense because the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel uneasy. 

You furrowed your brows, snapping your eyes up to his.

“No, no! You’re fine, it’s just that, no one has really said that stuff about him…about him being an asshole. And…I don’t know, it kinda feels nice to hear.”

Underneath your reassuring expression, your lips twitched up and Steve swore you were about to burst into a full on prideful smirk because of the jabs he took at your ex. So his words indeed took you aback, but in a good way.

He validated your feelings about your past relationship and suddenly there was a shift in the mood, and Steve closed his eyes, taking a relieved breath, grateful that he hadn’t scared you away with that conversation.

Meanwhile, you laughed softly to yourself, feeling a rush of giggles bubble up in your chest, seeing him relax under your certainty.

He opened his eyes, looking at you, trying to look stone-faced, “But, seriously, he’s sounds like a huge asshole,” He couldn’t help the cackle that escaped through his lips, breaking his solemn face, followed by you pushing a hand out and pressing his shoulder gingerly. 

“The hugest! I’m being so serious!” You added, only making the two of you laugh harder, not caring to contain it in the small space between the bedroom and the hallway. 

A simple moment in time was all you needed to know that Steve was genuinely a good guy, not just a pretty face with an idiotic mind attached to him. As the laughter died down, Steve stepped back, holding his hand out and gesturing you into the hallway with him and back down the stairs where you two were met with the noise of your friends chatting in the living room. 

Robin slapped a hand over her forehead once the two of you came into view, earning a raised eyebrow from you and Steve, both of whom stopped a few feet into the area. She exaggeratedly dropped her hand to her side, feigning exasperation.

“What’s the matter?” You crossed your arms across your chest, looking genuinely troubled and waiting for an explanation. 

All eyes turned to you and Steve now, grunts and smothered laughs coming from everyone, while you guys both stood there, oblivious to their reactions. Dustin, unable to contain himself, started convulsing with laughter and clutching his stomach, even going as far as to throw himself into Mike’s lap before getting shoved off.

Then he stood up in front of both of you, pointing an accusing finger at Steve’s shirt he lent you. 

“What did you do to make him hate you so much that he gave you that horrid shirt?”

His face twisted in disgust, and he mockingly gagged, sticking out his tongue and dramatically turning away. Steve should’ve seen this one coming. He swatted Dustin’s hand away from you, shaking his head with a playful scowl. Then placed his hands on his hips, adopting a father-like pose, something else they also teased him for.

He had worn the long sleeve a couple of times before, and each time he did, everyone poked fun at him. Commenting on the revolting color, comparing it to poop or vomit instead of the ground seed condiment he claimed it paralleled, according to the saleswomen at Macy’s who convinced him enough to buy it. And now that’s why he stopped wearing it, growing tired of the kids, but especially Robin and Eddie, calling him ‘Baby Poop Harrington’ in the middle of Star Court and Family Video.

“You guys just don’t get fashion,” Steve argued, raising his eyebrows and forehead toward the others in an unconvincing manner. He fanned his arm, gesturing at you.

“It’s mustard, and it clearly looks good on her.”

The compliment was sudden, causing your eyes to enlarge somewhat and cheeks to blush. You hoped that no one caught it, being too busy to notice you looking downward at the shirt pretending to examine it in order to play it off when in fact you were rubbing your lips together to stop the smile from rising with your cheeks.

The banter continued to go on, which made you relieved, as you were able to get some composure and flicker your sights back up to everyone else arguing with Steve. Eddie huffed out a laugh, stretching his arms behind his head where he lounged on the opposite couch. He pointedly stared at you and the outfit, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

“Nobody said it doesn’t look good on her. We just said the color isn’t very pretty.”

Nancy tilted her head, observing you and the shirt closely. Her eyes widened in realization, and she nodded in agreement.

“Actually, it does look really good on you. Maybe the styling was the issue.” She glanced at Steve with a grimace before waving it off and marveling at the color.

Steve raised his voice, as if trying to convince them through sheer volume. “I wore it with blue sweatpants!”

“Exactly!” the group chorused, their voices overlapping in mock protest.

You couldn’t help but snort out a short laugh, finding the entire situation amusing. You exchanged glances with Steve, realizing that this was obviously a very passionate but lighthearted topic within the friend group, kinda like their own inside joke.

Steve ignored the rest of the laughter and teasing, falling back into his comfortable recliner as you sat yourself back in between Nancy and Robin.

Lucas, the one seated next to the redhead who was his girlfriend, tapped his fist on the coffee table. “Can we cut into the pie? It smells delicious, and it’s been calling my name for the past thirty minutes.”

You nodded excitedly, rubbing your hands together, “Sure, it’s cherry by the way, so hopefully you all like that!” Your hands fell into your lap, looking over at Steve.

“I just need a knife to cut into it and some plates and forks.” 

Steve rose up, giving you a nod, “I’ll go get it,” he said before walking through the archway into what you assumed was the kitchen. 

The kids had gathered around the coffee table, smelling the air to get a whiff of the baked good you had spent the whole morning baking, and even Eddie got up from his relaxed state to push the kids aside and get a smell. 

You felt a little bad seeing as though Steve had already gone out of his way to open up his home to you and then lend you clothing after a mishap that was entirely your fault, yet you were still sitting here, not helping. 

You looked over at Robin, patting her knee smoothly, “I’ll go help Steve.” 

Before you could stand up, she grasped onto your wrist, waving the other in the air, signing off that he could handle it alone, “He’s fine, don’t worry about it,”

But of course you insisted with a reassuring laugh, feeling her touch drop your hand, as you got up. “No, it’s fine, I really should!” 

Before she could protest or take your spot, you were already striding away, following into the archway that Steve had just gone through. His back was facing you, arms reaching into the cupboard to grab a stack of plates that clinked together. 

“Let me help,” you announced your presence with eagerness, walking up beside him. 

He looked over at you, relaxing his arms back down,“Hey, no, you're not supposed to be helping!” 

Your fingers tugged the bottom of his borrowed long sleeve, the fabric dancing between your fingers as you shot him a mischievous smirk, “Oh, c’mon, it’s the least I could do.”

He smiled at your mocking tone having no choice but to give in, “Fine, but just this once,” pretending to let out an exasperated sigh like you were a nuance, when in fact you weren’t. 

He nodded his chin to the set of drawers where the utensils were prompting you to grab the needed amount of forks while he gathered the remainder of the plates.

“Does it ever get lonely living alone?” He asked, voice carrying a hint of interest, while shutting the cupboard and walking to the other side of the kitchen to retrieve a knife.

“Hmmm,” You thought for a second, shrugging as you bumped your hip into the drawer, shutting it gently.

“Sometimes, but I’ve grown pretty used to it. There’s some positives like not feeling so bad when you forget to start the dishwasher.” 

He chuckled, grunting an agreement for the simple joys that living along could bring, but he also wondered about the negatives, “And the cons?” 

Your heart skipped a beat already knowing the answer right off the top of your head because it was something that ate away at your heart every day. Leaving and coming home to the same space, roaming the halls and rooms—all of yours but only yours, the kind that was lonely.

“Not having someone you can go home to, or at least looking forward to coming to.” You confessed with a frown. 

Steve sympathized, knowing that feeling all too well considering the home life he had been living since he was a teenager. Left alone with no parents around to really parent him in the first place, there was a fine line between being a teen and also being the adult to make the house a home. 

He’d try to, even when his parents were away on trips, doing a load of dishes and laundry. Cleaning out the overgrown weeds in the yard. Vacuuming and mopping the floors. All of this in hopes that when his parents did come home and see how it had been maintained, that maybe they’d want to stay home and spend time with their son. 

But alas, that meant nothing to them. If anything, it proved his parents’ thoughts that Steve was more than capable of being home all by himself. Making the home even emptier that it already was knowing that his parents would purposefully be gone longer now. 

“Y’know, it’s nice having this house all to myself, but it gets lonely too. My uh—my parents aren’t really home much, my mom follows my dad on all his work trips…kinda making sure he doesn’t cheat on her or something.” 

He let out a dry laugh while you cringed, expecting that it is in fact a joke, but he continues letting you know it isn’t.

“Anyway, ummm, it’s nice and all being able to throw parties and invite people whenever, but sometimes I just wished there was more here.” 

Looking around the room, he gestured all around and exhaled, “Like family dinners where we actually talk or even just coming home from work and seeing my parents watching tv on the couch. I swear, I haven’t seen them sit in the living room or turn on the tv since I was like twelve.” 

Placing the forks on the stack of plates, you turned apologetically to him, resting a comforting hand on his arm, seeing the way his face fell and his voice wavered on the edge between resentment and misery. 

“I’m so sorry, Steve.” You withdrew, apologizing, though none of this was your fault. 

Steve cleared his throat with a hoarse cough, swinging his head. Placing the knife down on the plates, as he ran his hand down his face, “No, don’t apologize, it’s stupid. I should be grateful they left me with a house to myself, right?” 

He let out a laugh, as if that was going to make you feel any better for the way that he was feeling. Robin only mentioned little about the absence of Steve’s parents, and you knew it wasn’t any of your business, but it made you feel for him. For how lonesome it must be for him to be estranged from the people who gave him life, yet left him under their roof and pretended like he didn’t exist. 

You, however, made the choice to live alone. After you graduated high school, you hightailed it out of your parents’ house and got a lease to your now apartment all by yourself. It wasn’t until a few months later that your then boyfriend moved in, but still after the breakup you got to keep the place all to yourself, which was valuable in a lot of ways. 

But it was also sad.

You didn’t have many friends that you kept in touch with from high school. If anything, they weren’t really the nicest nor supportive types of friends that you wanted to keep anyways. They agreed with your ex that you had to start taking life seriously and cease pursuing art, but you never listened to them. So maybe it was better off to live alone in your own seclusion rather than just keeping them around for company. 

In spite of those not so kind friends of that past, things felt a lot different with the group that you met today. Like you could let your walls down and finally open up the door.

Your finger twiddled against one another, letting out a proposition, “M-Maybe you can come to my place and hangout? All of you…I mean!” 

You were crossing your fingers that he didn’t catch the slip up that made it sound like you only wanted him to come over. 

His hands stop at his jaw, fanning over the skin there, before turning slightly towards you with a surprised look on his face. 

“Really?” 

You nodded eagerly, “I haven’t had guests around for a while and I would really love for you—you guys to come and visit.” 

There was that slip again, but Steve was too engrossed to catch it. 

“I would love—“ 

“Jesus Christ, what’s taking so long!?”

The holler coming from the living room burst that bubble between you and Steve, ultimately making you giggle when he groaned heavily, muttering an, “I’m so sorry about them,” to you while you shook your head and followed behind him while he grabbed the kitchenware. 

“You guys were taking forever!” Mike wailed, making Steve roll his eyes as you gave a gentle laugh at his impatience. 

“We were barely gone two minutes.” Steve replied, placing the plates down on the table while you carefully grabbed the knife. 

“It’s my fault. I was talking to Steve about having you guys over sometime.” You said, looking up at the boy before making the first cut into the pie. 

Robin gasped behind you, clapping her hands ecstatically, “Oh my gosh, please! Steve and I are off on Thursday!”

She turned towards Steve, looking at him dubiously. “We’re off on Thursday, right?” 

“Yeah,” He snickered, nodding his head as he slid you a plate to lay the first slice on. 

Steve picked up the plate, giving it to El just to spite the impatient Mike who sat beside her and groaned until you finished cutting the next slice which was given to Lucas. So you continued to cut as Steve served everyone. 

“Jonathan and I have a half day on Thursday, so we should be able to swing by during the afternoon.” Nancy spoke before digging into her slice. 

The last two slices remained as everyone dug into their portion while you plated it up. Passing Steve a plate, “You first.” You said quietly with a smile.

He grinned, thanking you with a nod before taking a seat on the recliner. You got yourself the last plate, scooting back towards your original seat. 

“Where do you guys work?” You looked towards Nance and Jonathan.

He swallowed his piece before speaking. “Hawkins Post. I work on photography and she writes.” his fork pointed to her before she nodded and continued. 

“Technically, we’re still interning, but we’re hoping to secure a permanent job once our internship is up.” She told you as you nodded your head. 

“That’s cool! Roane has a weekly paper, but it’s usually just filled with the same political crap about our Mayor trying to drive out local businesses and replace them with big chain stores.” You said wistfully, shaking your head. 

She chewed faster, murmuring out a reply before she was able to respond with actual words.

“Our Mayor, Mayor Kline, is actually doing the same thing! Jonathan and I have been begging to do a story about it to help save the mom-and-pop businesses, but our boss Tom,” she exhaled heavily, shaking her head with annoyance, “he agrees with the Mayor and totally shuts us down every time.” 

You pouted, placing down your untouched plate, and placing a warm hand on her shoulders, “God, I bet you they’re such assholes…I wish I could help, but seriously, if at any point you guys do figure out a way to make it happen, I’ll be happy to help any way I can.” 

Your voice was somehow sweeter than the pie that Steve was scarfing down as he watched and listened on. Everyone was too busy in their own conversations to care about the one you and Nancy were having, but not him, though he was more so focused on you. He just hoped he didn’t look like a sloppy toddler that was too distracted to realize food was all over his mouth.

Steve was just so enamored by your grace and everything that was new to him. 

He noticed the way your eyes would trickle over with all of these different sentiments while Nance confided in you about the struggles at Hawkins Post. But he assumed this was just how you usually were, a part of you, so invest in people and wanting them to know that they could talk to you and you would do your bestest to give your deepest empathy.

Only one thing he couldn’t understand was how anyone, let alone your ex-boyfriend, let go of someone who was as pure and generous as you. Steve Harrington was sure, even after only meeting you today, that you were the sweetest person he had ever had the honor of encountering. That if he really knew you were too good to be true like this, he would’ve begged Robin to invite you sooner.

“Can I have your slice if you’re not going to eat it?” Dustin’s voice broke in, his plate already finished with only crumbs left behind.

Tearing your gaze away from Nancy and switching to the boy who looked on at your untouched plate on the table. You grinned, leaning forward to push the plate closer to him, “Go crazy, I’m not hungry, anyway.” 

So not only were you kind, you were also patient—Steve was making a mental list without even realizing it and knowing what for.

Here you were giving up your slice for the little teenage twerp that just insulted the top you were borrowing only a few minutes ago. If Steve were in your shoes, he’d tell the little shit to think about making fun of mustard again before thinking he’d give up a slice of his pie for him, but then again, you weren’t Steve and you definitely weren’t an asshole. 

“Dude, let her have her slice!” Eddie chastised with a mouth full of cherries and pie pastry. 

Max flicked him on the head with a grunt. “Yeah Dusty, no wonder Suzie broke up with you.” 

Dustin glared, pulling your plate to him, “Oh shut up, I told you me and Suzie are perfectly fine and still together!” he hissed, not hesitating to take a bite of his pie. 

You shifted yourself to face forward, eyes on the kids who were thoroughly not convinced about Dustin’s so-called girlfriend. 

“Suzie?” You spoke curiously, “Does she live in Hawkins?” 

They all shook their heads, and Dustin spoke with a full mouth, but still you could hear him clearly. “She lives in Utah! Her family is crazy Mormon though, so I can only call during certain hours to speak to her through my Cerebro.” 

Your eyes widened, “Cerebro? Like from X-Men?” 

“You know X-Men?” the kids all shouted. 

You laughed, nodding your head undoubtedly. “I only have a few, but X-Men #7 is one of my favorites.” 

“Holy shit, you weren’t kidding when you said she was mega cool.” Dustin’s eyes darted to Robin’s, which made you laugh.

“So tell me more about Cerebro.” 

Honestly, it was hard for any of the kids to find other people who understood or got them the way that their older siblings and friends did. It’s mainly the reason why their friend group was so small and tight-knit in the first place and they’d be lying to say they weren’t the first to oppose the idea of bringing in a new person to the group.

But you seemed genuinely engrossed in the kids’ lives, not just instinctively nodding your head and humming so that they could feel like you cared, but you really did. Asking questions about Dustin’s summer camp where he and Suzie met and finding it quite adorable that he would go out of his way to build something to speak to a girl on the other side of the country.

Halfway through your conversation with the kids, Steve got up, heading towards the kitchen in hopes of finding you something to eat, seeing as though Dustin took hostage of your food. It didn’t help that he absolutely sucked at cooking and had nothing in his fridge to offer you other than a coke which definitely wouldn’t make up for your pie loss. 

With his back turned to the fridge, he could feel a presence behind him, trying to be quiet, yet failing, and he knew it was you, or at least thought it was because of the earlier instance.

“I thought I told you that you were a guest and you should be enjoying yourself in the—what the fuck Robs!”

She cackled, hunched over laughing to herself once Steve finally turned around and noticed it was, in fact, not you but her. 

“Jesus, what’s the matter with you? Sneaking up on me like that!” He crossed his arms over his chest at Robin who was trying to settle down. 

“You’re so gullible! Like I wasn’t even trying! I was just trying to see what you were up to and you thought that I was her!” She laughed maniacally, failing to contain herself. 

“Yeah, I came in here to try to find something she can eat, seeing as though Dustin lacks consideration and didn’t think to ask if she ate anything before coming here.” He sighed, turning around and opening back up the fridge, like something would magically appear before his eyes. 

Robin calmed down, nudging him away from the refrigerator so that she could get a look. Her fingers instantly pulled open one of the drawers where the fresh fruit that were barely touched were.

“This will do.” She grabbed an apple and orange, passing it off to Steve. 

He raised his brows, “Don’t you think she wants something else?” 

She shook her head. “Nope, she loves fresh fruit! Told me how much she loves them in her salads and how she picks up fresh ones from the market to make sweets and drinks with them.” 

“Fine. Just go back in there and I’ll cut these up.” 

She held her hands up in defense, slightly mocking in a higher pitched voice as she walked backwards, “Oh okay, Chef Harrington, thank you so much for your service to our pretty guest.” 

He closed his eyes shut, shaking his head as he heard a snicker come from Robin before she fully exited and gave him the kitchen all to himself where he cut and peeled the fruit, neatly placing them on a plate for you. Steve wished you would have snuck in just to get another chance to talk to you alone because he wasn’t quite sure if he could hold a conversation with you when everyone was around.

You didn’t intimidate him per se, but he liked speaking to you one-on-one when there were no idiotic teens around to make him feel weird for asking such silly questions. But you didn’t sneak in, still holding the conversation with the teens as he walked out and placed the plate on the coffee table in front of you.

“Here you go,” Steve announced softly, not wanting to break the conversation.

You looked up at him, seeing the plated fruit slices he had arranged in a circle, “Oh, you didn’t have to! But thank you!”

“No problem.” He grinned, heading back to his seat.

“So what about you?” You turned your gaze towards El, the quiet one of the bunch who sat and listened for the most part. “What do you like to do?” 

“Poetry.” She said faintly, making you smile as you popped an apple slice in your mouth. 

“I used to do a lot of poetry too when I was your age.” You told her, and she looked at you curiously. 

“I have a ton of journals from when I was in high school, but ultimately I think my calling has always been art.” You smiled at her, seeing the way she lit up at that. 

“What did you write about?”

“Typical teenage stuff. Growing up. Strict parents. Bullies. Boys.” 

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Max cut in. 

You took a deep breath, unsure of how to bring this up, “Umm, well, I uh, y-yeah—well, no yeah! I meant no! I don’t have one! But I used to, but we broke up.” 

“How long were you together?” Mike asked. 

“Stop being invasive, Michael!” Nancy quietly scolded, earning a glare from Mike who paid her no mind and went back to you waiting for an answer. 

“Umm, you know, a really long time, but it was so long ago that—“ 

“Estimate?” Lucas countered. 

You swallowed anxiously, not really wanting to talk about this, but feeling you had to answer before it got awkward, “Like six—“ 

“Jesus, you twerps are nosey. Just let her and El talk about poetry.” Steve surged into the conversation, getting up to retrieve an orange slice from the plate as he ruffled the hair on the teen’s head walking back to his seat in order to play it off.

You took a deep breath through your light-hearted smile, eyes dancing towards him to shoot him a grateful glance for his quick thinking.

The last thing you wanted to talk to the teens about was your tumultuous relationship that came to a world crumbling end. Plus, the teens were in their own relationships. You didn’t want to jeopardize their ideas of their own relationships because of your past one. They were smart and kind, and didn’t need to hear about your ex to know that about themselves. 

Steve didn’t quite know what else your ex did to make you freeze up like this in front of everyone, but he wasn’t going to let it happen. It was his fault anyway for bringing it up in the first place and he had to make up for that, to let you know that he had your back, even when it came to his own friends who were just as innocently curious as him.

He got the chance to peel back a layer of your history in private, something that he knew was a privilege to learn about, but he wouldn’t let you be put on the spot like this when you weren’t ready. 

There was an ease to the room once Steve made it clear that your love life wasn’t up for discussion right now. Everyone just seemed to forget it was even brought up in the first place. El smoothly shifted topics back to poetry and took the moment to ask you if you still wrote from time to time, which you happily gave her the answer to. 

Thankfully, poetry wasn’t the only topic of discussion. 

Eddie had told you about his band Corroded Coffin that played every Tuesday and Sunday at the Hideout Bar where he also worked. The kids had been begging to go to a show in order to see him and his friends live, but since the bar had a very obvious and strict age limit, they’d just have to wait until they were 21. 

Robin finally told you about her and Steve’s creepy manager Keith who had been smuggling R rated tapes from Family Video, which they then used against him in order to get days off whenever they wanted. Things only got funnier when Steve revealed that Keith had accidentally forgotten to switch the tapes back to the original casing, which led to a very angry mother coming in and demanding to speak to the manager when her son had brought home “Star Whores: Attack of the Silicone.” 

At some point, you found yourself excessively laughing with Nancy and Robin while Jonathan reenacted his father, Hopper’s reaction to a stash of weed that he had bought off of Eddie. Hopper actually sounded pretty cool considering he was police chief and didn’t make the boy flush it down the toilet. Instead, just asking for a bit because he wanted to try to make weed brownies. 

You definitely needed to meet him one day and hopefully ask him how the baking process was. 

Lucas, on the other hand, had vented about the captain of the basketball team, Jason, who was a total asshole and didn’t know how to shoot a three pointer to save his life. Max suggested that one of them attack him from behind and break his leg so that Lucas could be the star player for the season.

But somehow Mike had an even more vicious plan, to poison him and take him out for good—but of course he looked at you, with cautious hands held out, “We’re just kidding by the way!” 

To say that you enjoyed yourself this afternoon would be an understatement because, for the first time in forever, it felt as though your social battery wasn’t draining. You would want to spend the rest of the day here in Steve’s living room listening to them talk about their lives and ask you about your mundane one.

But time always went by fast when you were spending it with people who were so fun and carefree, so when you caught the hour on Steve’s clock, you knew you had to get going. 

Everyone gave you a hug, thanking you for stopping by and of course bringing the pie, the same one that they were begging you to bring the next time you would come into Hawkins. And you sure did promise you would. Robin, being the sweet friend she was, attempted to convince you to stay a little while longer, but you knew you had to go, and you’d make it up to her another time—hopefully a girls’ night in the coming weeks. 

Steve was the only one missing from the living room having excused himself to the kitchen a little while earlier to get the dirty dishes done. He even warned everyone to make sure you stayed in your seat and didn’t come in to help him clean up, knowing you would sneak up and try to offer it. After releasing a very tight and giggly hug from Robin, you stood up, making your way to the kitchen.

“Steve?” You knocked your fist against the archway, catching his attention as he turned to look over his shoulder. 

“Hey, need something?” He asked, quickly shutting off the faucet and drying his hands on the kitchen towel hanging near the sink. 

You shook your head, gesturing down to your purse slung over your shoulder, “I’m actually heading out now. Gotta get home before rush hour.” 

He stooped dramatically, making you laugh as you offered your most sarcastic yet sincerest apologies for the departure of your presence. 

“C’mon, I’ll walk you out.” He gestured, leading the way while you waved goodbye to everyone in the living room before following Steve out the front door. 

“Thanks again for letting me come over.” You chirped, with your shoulders coming in shyly.

He waved it off, smiling down at you, “It’s no problem, it was really nice meeting you…I can’t wait to come over to your place.” 

“I’m looking forward to it too…I just don’t know if I’ll be half the host that you were.” 

“Don’t, you’re gonna be fine. Drive safe alright?” 

You brushed your hair back behind your ear, nodding as you smiled once more, “I will, see you around Steve.” 

Your arms didn’t hesitate to wrap around his neck, hugging him ardently. Even if you were wearing his clothes, smothered in the scent of his detergent and him, his senses were filled with you.

A bright vanilla aroma coming from you, and with your hair blowing in his face, he could help but drown in it, hoping this wouldn’t be the last time he’d get to hug you like this. 

But alas, he had to let go, his large hands giving your shoulders a warm one over before finally pulling away and seeing your smiley face. 

He stood by the porch, watching as you got into your car, taking note of every little detail of your movements.

Placing your purse in the passengers and checking the contents making sure you didn’t leave anything behind buckling in. You checked your mirrors while twirling the ends of your hair between your fingers, securing the locks against your back and the chair. After a few seconds, he could hear the gear change and watched as you twiddle your fingers upon the steering wheel, waving one last goodbye as you reversed out of his driveway. 

“See ya…” He mouthed, with a tight smile, waving before you drove off. 

The distance between Hawkins and Roane Country was almost an hour, which gave you a lot of time to think about today and especially wonder about Steve Harrington.

Honest to God, every time you’d catch him in your peripheral, beaming and nodding along at your conversations, you found yourself almost tumbling over your words. He was that distracting, in the best way possible.

There was something endearing about him, perhaps his ability to read your social cues or maybe the fact that he actually showed interest in you and whatever you were talking about. Even if he didn’t get it, you could tell he was listening intently, eyes following you wherever your hands and sights drifted, like a willow bending right to the wind.

You wished you had the guts to strike up a conversation with him in front of everyone else, but you were sure that if you did everyone would take note of how your shyness reached a whole other level with a pretty guy sitting in front of you. Steve was easy to talk to, but you didn’t know if you were easy to react when it came to anything he said.

His words. His smile. His laughter.

All of it trickled with a honey so sweet that it made your stomach ache and blood rush hot. A feeling that was so foreign after all of this time, yet you couldn’t help but want more. To get to talk to him, even if it was just him insulting your ex with low blows because he deserved it.

But his raw emotions. Him letting his guard down. His thoughtfulness.

It exuded the warmth of freshly ground cinnamon, something that had layers to it. Like a punch in the gut that surprised you in a way that was too profound to explain further. He didn’t even hesitate telling you about his parents and how troubling it felt to be given so much from them yet so little at the same time.

It felt like you were throwing a bunch of colors onto a canvas, not knowing where this was headed, maybe off a cliff or down a dead-end street. Or maybe back home with you where everything would be bliss. You could never really tell.

With Steve, it felt different, very complicated.

Perhaps you were getting too far ahead of yourself, after all, his actions weren’t too far fetched from the others who made you feel just as comfortable and made you laugh just as hard. Yet you didn’t feel this way towards Eddie or Robin and definitely not towards Nancy and Jonathan. 

But feelings like these oftentimes just over complicated things, like this very moment right now where you shouldn’t be contemplating this in the first place.

It was too soon to ever know and you could bank on it being counterfeit. Something you’d look back on and laugh at because maybe it was better off with you and Steve being friends, just like everyone else. Nothing more, nothing less, just friends.

The afternoon glow cascaded your kitchen, a soft ochre hue bouncing off your window pane and showering your body in the warmth. Stevie Nicks’ voice sang through the space on your radio while you stirred the florals in the boiling water.

A few knocks echoed through your door, accompanied by various voices that grew louder. Looking over at the time on the microwave, it read “3:12p.m.” in bright neon green lights. 

They were on time. 

“Coming!” you shrieked out, cutting the music and lowering the heat on the stove before you walked over the door, undoing the latch and twisting the lock open.

With a wide grin, you stretched the door open, and their chatter subsided, turning their attention towards you, their eyes glittering with anticipation. 

Your apartment wasn’t the biggest or the most lavish, but it was undeniably you. Just from the front door alone, your personality was oozing among the space—plants were displayed on a shelf near the door alongside a handmade pottery bowl for keys and small belongings that rested on a small table. 

Straight ahead was your kitchen just as personalized as the entrance. The counters complimented with a delicate flower-patterned backsplash along with wooden cabinets you had stained to wash out the unpleasant color that came with the place originally.

It was so very much you.

“Come in! Come in!” You ushered them with animated welcoming arms. 

The teens stepped through first, peering around as they traveled further into your home. Your living room another lively space with an olive green couch and swinging chair you splurged on and surprisingly hung all by yourself. And of course, unfinished and half-painted canvases decked the walls.

You met cheek to cheek with Robin and Nancy, the same fond welcome you had gotten accustomed to giving to your lady friends. Eddie and Jonathan took you in for a side hug, giving you a smile.

Steve was the last one to enter with a vase carrying a blend of lively flowers in one of his hands. He wore a striped polo, one of the many that you saw hanging in his closet, a pair of blue jeans, Nike’s Cortez’ that was totally his style, and of course his world famous smile.

“I’m so glad you made it.” You murmured, opening your arms as he walked into you and wrapped his arms snuggly across your back.

You squeeze your arms around him affectionately, inhaling the subtle aroma of mint and sandalwood that he wore. Something that you became familiar with since your last interaction where he walked you out to your car and said goodbye to you in the same way he was saying hello. 

Of course, Steve had made it. There was no way he was going to miss it. Not after you graced his home with your presence. If anything, Steve was the one who rushed everyone into Eddie’s van to get here on time to see you.

He looked down at you, seeing your eyes flutter open as you both released the hug, yet never stepped back to open the proximity.

“Been looking forward to it all week,” he brought the hand holding the vase up, prompting them towards you with a grin, “…and these are for you.”

You let go, wrapping your fingertips around the glass, admiring the blues, pinks, whites, and greens of the arrangements. Summer flowers, the kind that bloom the entire season before spring comes along and cuts their time too short before winter arrives.

You had been busy for the past couple of weeks that you didn’t even realize that you had forgotten to take a trip to your local florist to pick up some of your favorites, nevertheless Steve’s would suffice.

Closing your eyes, you breathed in the citrusy sweet fragrance from the baby pink peonies in the bunch, then you opened them back up, orbs filled with gratitude as you stared at him.

“Steve, these are beautiful. Thank you!”

He shrugged his shoulders lightly, “Unfortunately, none of us are good bakers, so I’m glad you like it.” 

Laughing, you gestured him towards the living room where everyone had already gotten themselves comfortable, while you made a quick pit stop towards the kitchen to place the flowers on the windowsill to get some sunshine. 

Making your way back to everyone you saw Nancy and Jonathan sat on the couch looking worriedly at the teens, “Guys, don’t break anything!”

They both warned in unison, watching as the youngsters made a beeline to the comics and magazines you had lying around on the coffee table. 

“No worries, I break something like every other day in here. Totally klutz!” You assured her with a wave, seeing her take a sigh of relief and Jonathan sending you a gracious nod.

“This place is cooler than you described!” Robin blurted, fidgeting her fingertips against each other as she continued to look around trying to spot some things that she remembered you telling her about over the phone. 

Striding towards the cluttered coffee table, you noticed the kids not having much space to flip the books and magazines. You had spent the entire morning doing laundry and touching up a painting for your upcoming gallery that you had skipped cleaning the mess up before they had arrived. 

You apologized, moving to pick up some paint bottles you had lying around “Sorry it’s a little messy…I was busy all morning,” placing them back in their designated bin underneath the table, while they waved you off, not bothered by the mess at all. 

“Did you paint this today?” Will sought, setting down the comic and shuffling towards the easel where a semi-wet canvas laid. 

You nodded, walking over and standing next to the piece, and holding your hands behind your back shyly.

“It’s supposed to look like the sunset from a few days ago.” 

The sky filled with purple, orange, and yellow tinges to encapsulate the sundown you caught on the drive back to Roane from Hawkins.

“Did you use a photo as a reference?” Mike inquired, squinting his eyes to really take in the detail of the sky and hues used. 

You shook your head, knocking your temple with your finger, “I have a really good photographic memory…once I see something I can usually replicate it when my brush hits the canvas.” 

“How fascinating.” Will murmured, allowing himself to walk along the walls, looking at all your other paintings you had hanging up. 

You clasped your hands together, a genuine sense of respite washing over you as you noticed everyone appearing at ease.

Robin was completely in her own world, fascinated with your overflowing vinyl collection that littered your tv stand.

Nancy and Jonathan were talking softly amongst themselves, smiling as they pointed and admired parts of your apartment, hoping they could have their own one day.

Eddie had taken a seat on the floor, back resting on the couch cushions as he flipped through a comic he picked up.

Steve looked to be just as comfortable, swinging slightly in the hanging chair admiring everyone else, happy that his friends were comfortable in the new space.

You clapped your hands together faintly, just enough for yourself to hear the celebration, “Just feel free to look around! I have a patio over there, but there’s nothing much out there except plants and a little table.”

They looked up to where your finger pointed at the sliding door on the other side of the living room, a cream meshed curtain pulled back to let in the natural sunlight. 

Then, you turned your attention to Eddie, bending down a bit to tap his shoulder and point again at the terrace outside, “Eddie, I put out a small glass dish out there if you wanted to take a smoke, just in case.”

You noticed that he had excused himself to Steve’s backyard in order to take a smoke break, so you figured you get that set up for him just in case.

He flashed you a sincere smile, nodding “Thank you,”

You nodded, patting his shoulder before standing straight and excusing yourself to the kitchen to get things prepared.

Steve didn’t quite know if he was more so appreciating his friends finally opening up to a new place that wasn’t his own or seeing you being so welcoming to people you only met a few days ago. Nevertheless, it felt nice, a little warm feeling inside to know that you were so kind and open to them.

He also didn’t know if it made him a weirdo for wanting to stray wherever you went, getting up to follow you into the kitchen just to get a chance to talk to you without the lingering ears of his friends.

You stood there with one hand on your hip and the other stirring some mixture in the pot before turning off the heat completely.

“What’s this?” his soft voice whispered over your shoulder, producing you to bounce slightly before glancing back. 

He had a small apologetic smile on his face, almost like a wince.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Steve said as you shook your head, lips curled into a grin when you turned back to stir the liquid. 

“Lavender and mint.” You bubbled, drawing the saucepan off the stove and holding it out, just enough to get a sniff of the aroma. 

His hand cupped together in the air, wafting the sweet steam towards him, “And it’s tea?” 

“Yeah!…Or you could refrigerate it and make it into lemonade, though I should’ve done this hours ago so that I could…you don’t think it’s too hot for tea do you?” 

Your forehead scrunched up in woe, setting the pot back down and reaching to slide the window in front of you open. Sticking your hand out, you flipped it back and forth, trying to feel the air and its warmth. 

It was totally warm out, but Steve wouldn’t let you know that. He just shook his head, following your actions and sticking his hand out to feel the air, “No, it’s like the perfect weather…I could go for some tea.” 

You looked toward him, giving him a sickly sweet smile as you turned to the opposite side of the kitchen, heading into one of the cupboards to grab mugs. 

“Let me help you.” Steve offered, taking the ones from your hand with ease and placing them onto the counter. 

He didn’t allow you to grab the other seven remaining mugs, as he did it himself, lining them up perfectly so it would be easier to pour and serve. 

“Do you like milk in your tea?” You questioned, padding over to the fridge and seizing every bottle of milk you had. 

He thought for a second, eyebrows scrunched together, trying to recall a memory, but he was sure that the last time he had milk and tea was when he attended one of his father's boring business conferences when he was a child.

“I’ve never tried it, is it any good?” Steve asked, leaning against the counter’s edge to watch you clutch the mason jars against your chest. 

You smiled with a nod, fingers holding up one of the glass jars you had labeled, “almond” before placing them all right next to the mugs. 

“You make your own milk?” He looked surprised, picking up the jar and inspecting the liquids that looked store-bought. 

“It’s super easy and because it doesn’t take my time I just make a new glass every week.” You told him as you waltzed over to the boiler, picking up the pot before cautiously pouring a serving into each mug. 

He watched you closely, noting how you bit your lip in concentration, making sure each mug got the same amount of tea, not wanting anyone to have less or too much than they wanted. You smiled to yourself, eventually letting go of your bottom lip when the last mug was filled perfectly, spinning around in your sock covered feet to place the remaining liquid back on the stove.

He did his best to hide his smile, endeared with your behavior for something as simple as pouring some tea. You rubbed your hands together, finally turning back to him and nodding your chin at the mugs.

“You should get the first taste!”

“You sure?” He asked, already reaching for the ridiculously adorable strawberry mug that you usually always drank out of. 

You giggled, bowing your head as he finally took a sip. His lips smacked against each other to search the flavor profile in an attempt to impress you with the enhanced taste buds that he clearly didn’t possess, but somehow he was still able to make you laugh, which was enough.

“It’s sweet but still a little minty—what milk do you usually go for?” He sat his cup down, fingers brushing over the jars, looking over the different milks you had. 

Oat. Almond. Cashew. 

“Oat, it’s the most neutral out of all of them and doesn’t disturb the flavor, in my opinion.” You responded, letting your elbow rest onto the counter to place your chin in your palm.

You watched him crack open the jar, pouring a tiny bit into his cup before looking at you, silently asking if it was enough. The jutting of your chin and smile prompted him to pour a little more, just until you squeaked and you both laughed before he sealed the jar shut.

The two of you watched the milk flow over the once sheer lilac brew as if it was going to stir itself. Only remembering now, you gasped dramatically, moving up to pull open the drawers on the opposite side of the kitchen in order to grab a handful of spoons.

“Sorry, I totally forgot!” You apologized, handing one to Steve as he snickered, shaking his head while he stirred his drink. 

“Don’t have to apologize. You’re too nice of a host already.” He encouraged you, taking another sip of the tea and giving you wide eyes when it rushed down his larynx. 

“Holy shit…this is good!” He said surprisingly, as you smirked, moving towards him to make yourself a cup. 

Your fingers grabbed onto the vintage basketball mug before pouring in your own splash of oat milk. “Oh! I forgot to mention, I like to add honey sometimes. Do you wanna try?” 

You tiptoed, attempting to grab the bear shaped bottle of honey, and Steve had easily raised his arm up, clutching it for you. 

“Thank you.” You whispered softly, taking it from him.

Steve was just happy to help, beaming warmly and watching you squeeze a tiny bit of honey into your cup and he happily did the same when you passed him the bottle. 

You both took a sip at the same time, smiling tightly as you watched each other before swallowing. It was silly. So the two of you chuckled. Shaking your head at how silly it was. 

“I didn’t mean to stare at you while you…sorry, that was weird of me.” You palmed your forehead dumbly, closing your eyes with a slight smile as Steve chuckled and hummed something that sounded like a “no” as he took another sip of the sweetness.

He shook his head, waving your worries away as he kept his hand on the handle of the mug when the other came down to rest on his hip, “I didn’t mean to stare either…I just didn’t want to look away from your tea-drinking skills.”

You cocked your head to the side, letting both sets of hands wrap around your warm mug as you rose a brow at him.

“My tea drinking skills?”

He smirked, nodding confidently, “Yeah, you know it’s a real art to not spill all over yourself. People do it all the time.”

There was a playful look coating your features, your eyes squinting shut as the smile took over before your laugh, shaking your head ridiculously at him.

“You’re impressed way too easily, Steve.”

Maybe it was the fact that you both were sipping tea in the middle of summer or perhaps the airflow in your kitchen was poor, but either way it didn’t take much for you both to notice the fervor that developed. You two were only inches apart. The space could be closed just by one sway towards each other’s bodies.

The lump in his throat bobbed as he swallowed, watching you take another sip as you tore your eyes away with the heat rushing to the apples of your cheeks. You looked pretty like this; he was sure you always did, but something about you here in your own kitchen surrounded by everything that was you felt just about right.

“I can’t help it…” You snapped your eyes back up at him, seeing him lift his shoulder with a placid grin on his face as he spoke.

“I’m always going to be impressed when it comes to you. Even when it’s just tea and a pretty—”

“What’s this!?”

The two of you jerked your eyes to Robin, leading the rest of the pact behind her into your kitchen. You swore he was just about to call you a pretty girl, certain even, but there were a million things he could’ve said.

Pretty mug.

Pretty kitchen.

Pretty apartment.

Pretty girl.

Pretty you.

No! He wasn’t. There was no way.

You quickly leaned off the counter, gesturing to them as Steve scooted over to make way for everyone else. They all picked up a mug, conversing amongst each other as they began drinking and popping open the milk and honey, serving themselves.

“It’s Lavender mint tea! I also have homemade oak, almond, and cashew milk so hopefully none of you are allergic…but if you want, I could run to the store and pick up some whole milk, it’s only down the road anyway so it won’t be long—“ 

Steve could sense the anxiety in your ramble, unsure if it was because of him and the line he had casted out towards you, or maybe because of the sudden intrusion of his friends that made it feel like you two had been caught when in actuality you both weren’t doing anything wrong.

Steve halted the jabber, resting a reassuring hand on your shoulder as everyone helped themselves to the tea, not aware of what you had been saying.

“None of them are allergic, so you’re fine…don’t need to go all out for some kids from Hawkins,” he looked around at his friends who were too busy to care, “everything you’re doing is perfect.” 

You clutched the mug in your hands, taking a sip again feeling your heart thump at his words. You didn’t understand what sorcery was going on, but you did know that Steve Harrington had a way with words and every sweet thing that left his lips made you feel like you were floating. 

Steve swore that he could see a pink blush creeping onto your face, but the mug you had tilted closer to your face hid it. It was cute; he didn’t know why you took so weirdly to compliments. It was something that he noticed right off the bat when you two first met. The way that if anyone said something nice about you, you felt the need to downplay it or not respond at all.

But Steve would keep complimenting you because you truly were someone that deserved to know their worth. So he smiled, continuing to watch the way you tried to hide your blush, while he sipped on his tea. 

Robin wasn’t clueless to the two of you, sure she didn’t have the best timing, but she could read the both of you. The way you and he would stare at each other for too long and even how you’d both stray to each other if the other ran off somewhere else.

She knew where this was going.

Coughing lightly to clear her throat, she tapped you on the shoulder.

“Do you mind showing me the bathroom?” 

You nodded, a tight smile on your face as you brushed past Steve, but not without your arms grazing before you led her out of the kitchen and into the opposite hallway where your bedroom and the bathroom was. 

“It’s in here,” reaching forward and twisting the door open to reveal the bathroom. 

Robin smirked wickedly, seizing one of your arms and pulling you into the restroom before shutting the door. 

You shrieked and snorted all in one, startled at her action and trying to steady the mug in your hand so you didn’t spill any.

“Robs!” 

She pressed her back against the door, a woozy smile on her face as she widened her eyes at you, “What the hell was that in there?!” 

Your eyes widened, and you shook your head frantically, “Oh my god, shush, he could hear you! It was nothing!”

Robin laughed, as you tugged her a ways bit from the door, hoping that no one, and especially Steve, didn't hear the conversation that was happening inside here. She opted to close the toilet lid, sitting on top of it while you leaned against the counter, still sipping on your tea to avoid talking about this, but Robin seemed to have no plans to stop. 

“It didn’t look like nothing! You guys were like milliliters apart, and his eyes were all dreamy and full of stars when he was staring at you!”

Her hands twiddled around in the air, trying to show you what she meant, and you knew exactly what she meant because you saw his orbs in the same light. Like an ocean of stars and glitter every time he had his eyes on you long enough for you to catch it—to make a wish on them.

“His eyes are always dreamy.” You countered out loud, instantly regretting that statement as Robin clasped a hand over her mouth to stifle her squeal. 

You bit back a smile, turning your head the other way so she couldn’t see the way you were absolutely blushing out of your mind.  

“I knew it! I could feel the tension in that kitchen and I just knew it! And the other day? You two just couldn’t stop looking at each other. You guys are totally crushing and are gonna fall in love!”

God, you couldn’t even remember when’s the last time you actually had a crush on someone attainable. All the guys you liked were fictional, from books, tv shows, and movies, because at least those guys were mesmerizing and actually respectable people. But Steve felt like that too, that one out of a million that you could actually see and have the privilege of being around let alone talking to.

He was so out of your league, there was no possible way he could’ve meant what he was going to say as a genuine romantic compliment. He was just being friendly. Just being the same Steve that Robin described to you before you had even met him. The same Steve who graciously covered for you when you didn’t want to talk about your asshole ex boyfriend.

The Steve that had you thinking about him on your drive back home wishing you were watching the sunset with him—

You heard the snap of her fingers, before feeling her stand up and make her way in front of you where she stood and clutched your shoulders, causing you to look at her. Shaking your head, you sighed heavily, finally prompting her a response after those grueling composing seconds.

“He’s just nice, Robin, and I’m sure he’s being kind because we just met. I barely know him! You said it yourself, remember? Steve’s a nice guy.” You said seriously, setting down your mug on the open counter space as she pouted and shook her head. 

“No, I mean yeah, Steve is nice, but he’s being abnormally kind to you. The kind of kindness where it’s all sappy and lovey. It kinda makes me want to throw up, but also makes me want to kick my legs like an idiot because seeing him this way after all this time is actually nice.”

She explained with a complicated look that quickly turned into smiles and fondness, realizing that Steve was actually putting himself out there and you just were too foreign to it all. She watched as you took another deep breath, letting your shoulders stoop against her hold as you held your head in your hands.

“I stood there like an idiot Robs. He said something really nice to me and I…I just stood there! Gosh, he probably thinks I'm totally dumbass or something.” 

She scoffed, shaking her head, giving your skin an encouraging squeeze when you finally looked up at her.

“Trust me, Steve doesn’t think you’re an idiot or a dumbass, or anything bad. He's genuinely so enthralled by you. And this is the same guy whose attention span is shorter than mine, so that’s saying quite a lot if, after the first hangout he’s already asking more about you.”

Your eyebrows curled into a frown before raising curiously, silently asking Robin to tell you what she meant before she licked her lips, eyes darting around the bathroom trying to pick one out of the many scenarios where Steve had asked about you.

“Umm, okay, this one!” She decided confidently, nodding her head and furrowing her brows roughly to mimic Steve earlier this morning at the florist.

“Which flowers do you think she likes best? She’s like super into florals, right? Is she allergic to anything? Jesus Christ, I don’t want to show up with flowers that she’s allergic to. That’s like fucking embarrassing Robs. Okay, you know what, I’m just gonna pick the prettiest flowers and hope she doesn’t end up sneezing or anything.”

You snickered at her impression of Steve’s voice and mannerisms, feeling your heart swarm as you thought it was pretty sweet that he was taking the time to ask about you, let alone think about putting in so much effort into those flowers he had brought for you.

“That’s actually really adorable,” you admitted, while Robin smiled and tilted her head, watching you thoughtfully. 

She removed her grip for your shoulders, hands softly clapped while she shrieked while you rolled your eyes playfully at her delight. “See! I’m like cupid or something! Just yennooo…try throwing out a compliment and if it feels weird or wrong, then you’ll know. But I think we both know how it’s gonna go!” 

“Sure cupid,” You rolled your eyes lovingly before going deep again, “I just don’t want to mess things up, alright? If somehow we’re both reading this wrong, I don’t want to lose him as a friend. It’s gonna put me in an awkward position if he doesn’t feel the same, so just for my sake, let’s just keep this conversation between us?”

You held out your pinky finger towards her, where she immediately crossed her fingers over her heart and proceeded to hook her pinky with yours. 

“Promise!” she vowed, kissing her thumb as you giggled and did the same to yours. 

When you two unhooked fingers, she crossed her arms and looked back at the toilet then at you, “I still really gotta pee, so…” 

You tsked, chuckling lightly as you picked up your mug and gave her a thumbs up before exiting the bathroom to give her some privacy. When you walked down the hallway back into your living room, everyone looked relaxed, sitting on the couch or just hanging around the floor enjoying their cups of homemade tea while they talked amongst themselves. 

Steve was in his previous seat, rocking back and forth in the hanging chair still nursing his lavender mint tea. When you came into view, he flashed you a smile, almost a questioning one, asking if everything was alright considering you were just in the bathroom with his best friend for quite some time. You assured him a nod and a small curl of your lips, ushering him to nod back.

That god he didn’t seem phased by the previous kitchen interaction.

“What’s that?” You requested, settling on the carpeted floor where Will and the rest of the teenagers were sitting near the coffee table flipping through a book. 

Will glanced over with a shrug, sliding the book towards you, giving you a chance to see the art that covered the pages. You were amazed, setting down your mug and pulling the book closer as you looked into each stroke of the pencil and all the shading. 

“Will, these are beautiful.” You nudged him casually with your elbow, making him smile, while he watched you flip through the next few pages where more illustrations filled the sheet. 

One of the pages that caught your eye was a figure, one dressed in a cloak with a pointy wizard hat, and it looked a bit like Will. Maybe a self-portrait of some kind for that fantasy game he and the boys played.

“They’re not as good as yours, but I wanted to bring it so I could show you what I’ve been working on.” He told you, while you frowned and reached to rest your hand onto his, giving it a squeeze. 

“No, these are amazing. I mean, this is just incredible…when I was your age all I could draw were stick figures.” 

The laugh that Will let out made you smile and so did the reinforcing words coming from his friends, egging him on and telling him how awesome all of his sketches were. You knew that art was subjective, and even when you yourself were hard on the work that you made, you also had to find it within yourself to be kind.

And you wanted Will to feel the same way, because he truly had a talent for art and you wished you had someone when you were younger who encouraged you to pursue it sooner. 

“I actually have a bunch of spare paints and brushes, and other supplies that you can take home.” You told him.

Shifting to your knees as you began reaching under the coffee table where some storage bins were located, filled with some paints you hadn’t yet used. You began pulling them out one by one, setting them on the coffee table and talking to Will about each of the brands and colors.

From Steve’s place, he could see more of you than Will whose back was facing him. He saw the way your nose crinkled distastefully as you expressed your dislike of certain paint brands because of the opacity and smell. Then how quickly the look of disgust was replaced by a bark of hilarity as Will told you something about his mom brewing a fresh pot of coffee to battle the horrible smell of some of the paints he used.

Steve hoped it didn’t make him a creep for always watching you, but it was out of admiration than it was out of flirtation. He preferred watching you because there was a way about you—an ease, almost one that even yourself didn’t quite notice, but he did.

To him, the best way to describe the feeling he got around you was almost like a secret garden.

One filled with every kind of flower blooming under the radiating sun. Trees growing so tall with birds settling on the stretching branches. The air the perfect kind of cool where bees and butterflies pass through as they soar through the sky. A calm waterfall trickling into a pond that calls out to everyone to jump in freely.

For Steve, it’s like jumping in and getting lost in you…exactly as he’s doing right now.

In simpler terms, people gravitated towards you, not solely for your sweetness or kindness, but for how genuine you actually were.

Even in Steve’s own experiences, he knew he was guilty of just nodding along and pretending to understand what any of the teens were talking to him about.

Video games. Computers. Poetry. Skateboarding. Dungeons and Dragons. Painting. Boyfriends. Girlfriends. Crushes. Whatever it was; just going in one ear and out the other while they kept talking and talking and talking.

But not you.

If anything, you immersed yourself into their world even when it wasn’t something that you could fully wrap your head around like that fantasy game. Yet you never failed to ask questions in order to learn more about it, but it was mostly because you loved to see their faced light up when talking about something that they enjoyed without needing to worry about sounding nerdy.

He wished he could talk to you about anything, and he knew he could, but just not right now. Not with everyone sitting here when all he wanted to do was tell you how down to earth you were and how it was even impossible for you to be real.

But indeed real you were meeting his eyes for only a split second before you turned it all back to Will as he spoke.

“Do you think I could try to paint something?” Will asked you timidly, almost anxious of being a nuance, but you bubbled out an excited yelp, scrambling to your feet as you rushed to your bedroom in order to grab a blank canvas that you were sure you weren’t going to use. 

“Where is it?” You puffed, hauling open your closet door in hopes of you finding it in some bin that you stored all your excess supplies in. 

A knock sounded on the doorway wall, prompting you to call out a reply instead of actually looking at who it was, just assuming that it was Will or one of the other kids. 

“Need any help?” 

Steve’s voice had you ceasing all movements, encouraging you to take a deep breath and realize that the whole kitchen thing was over. Right now, you needed to get it together and not make things weird. You exhaled softly, peeping back from behind your closet to see him leaning against your door frame with a small smile before you nodded. 

“It’s so bare in here.”

He joked, looking around the room where the only piece of artwork hanging was one above your bed. A total lunar eclipse with its blood-red moon shining bright against a dark sky with tiny stars scatters around it. 

You gasped subsequently, finding the smaller canvas and standing up from the ground, “I like that my bedroom is sorta away from all the chaos out there.”

Your hands motioned to the outside of the door, making circles and rolling your eyes, as if the living room was such a chaotic mess, when it really wasn’t. He chuckled, shaking his head before raising his brow at you.

“Anything else we need?” 

Yeah, some fucking composure, Steve, because now I’m thinking of a compliment to spit out so we can get a feel of whatever the fuck we have going on.

You nodded, dropping the canvas on your bed and strolling over to the bottom drawers of your dresser where more supplies were stored.

“Yeah, some new brushes and a paint pallet for him.”

He watched you, totally oblivious of your nerves and instead in awe of how considerate you were being, by lending Will new items rather than just letting him borrow what you already had. 

“You’re going to spoil the kid rotten.” He quipped, seeing as you couldn’t pick between two different shades of blue paint tubes and instead, just threw both of them into the pile you were amassing for Will. 

You looked up, looking as innocent as ever and shaking your head, more than happy to spoil the kid.

“These have just been sitting here waiting to be used and Will will probably use it more than I ever will.” 

He chuckled, coming down beside you, kneeling on the floor to help gather the paint tubes in his hands knowing you wouldn’t be able to carry it all by yourself. Your fingers brushed each other as you both grabbed a few, eyes flickering up to each other with a quiet laugh, continuing on before he spoke just as delicately.

“You’re really too sweet.” 

Now’s the opening…just be smooth and throw it out there.

“I’d like to think I am,” you replied, snickering to yourself, when on the inside you were screaming.

He looked to you, seeing as though you tried to brush it off, “No, really, I mean it, you’re probably the nicest person I’ve ever met…no one has ever put this much thought into a hang out before.” 

You looked almost smitten under his gaze, tucking your cheek into your shoulder and trying to play it off as a shrug despite the smile he could see seeping upon your face. He found it cute. Though he didn’t know why you tried to hide it, he wanted to make you smile and make you feel good about yourself. 

“You really think so?” You asked unabashedly, following his head nod with a grin. 

“I’d go as far as saying you’re the sweetest girl I think I’ll ever meet.” 

Play it cool.

“You must not have met many girls then?” You stood up, hearing his chuckle as he followed your lead. 

“Don’t really want to meet any other ones anymore.” He countered. 

Strike and get a feel of it.

You grabbed the canvas off your bed as you swooped by. “Robin wasn’t kidding when she said you were charming.” 

“She said that?” He said comically, and you giggled nodding and walking out of your bedroom with him trailing behind you. 

Throw it out there.

“Yeah, which isn’t totally surprising, considering the fact that you’re pretty sweet yourself.” 

There was a glint of teasing to your voice, not that it was too different from the sweetness that dripped from it regularly, but he could tell there was something more there. He didn’t want to think too hard about it, not wanting to ruin the moment with his never-ending questions, so instead he clung to it, hoping he’d get the chance to hear something like that coming from only you ever again. 

“Here you go, Will,” you crooned cheerfully, entering the living room with Steve trailing behind you with the paints. 

Will’s eyes lit up with excitement, sitting up on his knees as you two placed the items on the coffee table. You sat beside him while Steve went back to the chair, watching in on you explaining to Will each of the pigments and their properties.

This time he wasn’t doing a lot of listening, his mind still caught up in your words and if it meant what he thought it did. He was going to call you a pretty girl back in the kitchen, that is before Robin and the rest of the gang had stumbled in to stop him.

Was that compliment supposed to be a response to his?

Was what you said even a compliment?

Of course it was…hell you could’ve you said he  reminded you of a golden retriever and he’d take it with pride and brag to everyone that a pretty girl compared him to a cuddly animal.

But was he just maybe reading into it too much?

You were always dishing out compliments to everyone, saying how great and talented they were, but not with the undertone you had spoken to him with. Perhaps he had misheard you and now he was doing all of this overthinking just to end off at the same place you both started, which was friends.

Just friends.

“Steve, could you come with me and Eddie to the kitchen, please?”

Robin and Eddie both stood, looking at him sharply as they shuffled into the kitchen, signaling for Steve to follow their lead.

He furrowed his brows, standing up quickly and heading for the kitchen, “What’s up?” 

“You’re being fucking weird!” Eddie's whisper shouted, pointing an accusing finger at him. 

Steve looked taken aback, looking at his two friends puzzled. “What the hell are you talking about?” 

“Don’t think I can’t tell when you’re thinking too hard. What’s the matter?” Robin softly prodded, crossing her arms across her chest. 

“W-what? No, I’m fine…I’m just thinking…” He said, avoiding Robin’s knowing eyes as he looked at Eddie instead.

Eddie rolled his eyes, “You keep following her everywhere, yet you’re not making a move. Everyone in that damn living room can feel the tension between you guys.” 

“There is no tension!” Steve claimed quietly, peering back and making sure you still were laser focused on the painting.

He looked back at his two friends, resting his hands on his hips, “I’m being friendly alright. I want to make her feel comfortable and help out the same way she did. That’s all.” 

Robin threw an unconvinced look his way, before gesturing towards Eddie, “When you met Eddie, you made fun of him for nicknaming his guitar sweetheart, it’s not the same.” 

“Because Eddie isn’t a girl!” Steve argued, only causing Eddie to raise a brow, holding a hand over his heart pretending he had just been wounded. 

“Are you saying I’m ugly, Harrington?” 

“Oh my god,” Steve grumbled, rubbing his fingers over his temples. 

Robin reached forward, grabbing him by the shoulders and forcing him to look at her, “Dude…stop thinking so hard about it. If you like her, just be cool about it. Ask her out if you want. I don’t know…j-just do anything besides what you were doing out there because you looked like you were in pain and it was just weird.”

Did he really looked pained?

Steve blinked, trying to process debating if he wanted to ask Robin if he really looked that bad or for some fucking advice to man up and ask you out already. He didn’t know what he was avoiding, knowing that usually if he liked a girl, he’d just go in and take the shot to ask, but with you, he just couldn’t.

There was too much to lose if something went south.

His thinking was cut short by Eddie who began snapping his fingers, pointing victoriously like he and Robin cracked some sort of secret Russian code or something.

“We were right!” He started poking at Robin’s cheek as she grumbled yet bit back a smile.

Eddie pointed towards Steve again, not bothering to hide the smirk on his face, “What’d I tell you? Harrington is usually so quick to slide on in and ask a girl out and now suddenly he meets a gorgeous down-to-earth-painter-baker-girl and now he’s whipped!”

He drummed his fingers on Robin’s shoulder, making her laugh before turning to her best friend, suddenly bright pink in the cheeks. 

“You must really really like her if you’re not using those god awful pickup lines to make her fall for you.” She said half jokingly. 

Steve shrugged, moving away from the two and instead reached for his tea mug and taking a sip of the now semi-warm liquid. “Maybe…I—I dunno…I just don’t want to rush things because she knows about King Steve and I don’t want her to get the wrong idea.” 

Robin tilted her head, looking apologetic, “She told you I told her about that?” 

He shook his head, looking at her dully, “No, but she did say you said I was charming, which pretty much gives it away…also you’re such a terrible liar.” 

“Am not!” She gasped, lightly punching him in the arm.

Steve didn’t look so convinced, arguing back without hitting her, “Yeah you are!” 

“Fuckin’ kill me,” Eddie sighed, rocking his head at the two. 

“Is everything ok?” Your cool speech came ringing in the small kitchen, making the three of them stutter, trying to not look so suspicious. 

“Y-yeah, fine! Umm, they were just wondering if you had more tea!” Steve lied, turning his eyes back to Robin and widening them, signaling for her to let go of his shoulders, which she did. 

He made his way over to the stove, peeking into the pot that had only a bit of tea left.

“Oh, I can make some more if you’d like?” You responded, moving further into the kitchen to meet Steve at the stove. 

With your back turned to Robin and Eddie, they both motioned their way out of the space to give him more time with you, but not before shooting him a suggestive wink. 

“Uh, no, no need for that. I’ll just take what’s left…Eddie and Robin have ummm, small bladders! I don’t want them complaining the whole way home later.” 

He closed his eyes shut, shaking his head to himself while you attempted to stifle a laugh reaching for his mug and pouring the rest of the tea into his cup. 

“Here you go,” you said, turning to him with his mug filled.

He flashed you an apologetic smile, saying a quiet “thank you” while you shake it off. 

“Need anything else? A snack?” 

His ears heard you loud and clear, but his eyes were stuck on the living room where Eddie and Robin were wildly gesturing their hands in the air, mouthing, “Just do it!”

For my friends to stop being dumbasses is what he wanted to say, but he shook his head, tearing his eyes away from the two friends and giving his sights back to you. 

“No, this is all. Thanks again.” He reassured you, earning a smile as you both walked out of the kitchen and back to the living room. 

Taking your place between Max and Will who were painting, you were able to get a glimpse of the work they had completed for the short time you were gone. Max had wanted to join in after getting tired of the comic she was reading.

“Oh, this is amazing—shoot, I’m so sorry!” 

You weren’t quite sure why you were here apologizing at the fact that Max had accidentally turned towards you with a paintbrush in her hand, smearing gold all over the front of your shirt, but here you were.

“Shit, it’s my fault. I’m so sorry.” The red head said, clutching a hand over her mouth as you shook your head. 

“No, it’s my fault! I shouldn’t have snuck up like that. It’s okay, the paint comes off easily in the wash, I’ll go get changed!” You yelped, getting up and jogging down the hallway into your room.

Max turned to Steve, glaring at him.

“Really? Eddie and Robin have small bladders? That’s the best excuse you came up with?” 

He scratched the back of his neck, leaning forward, “W-what?” 

“Max just bought us some time to tell you how weird you’re being.” Lucas smirked, glancing at Max who looked proud of her quick idea.

Dustin snorted in agreement, finally tearing his eyes away from his comic, “If you’re gonna keep staring at her and following her around like a minion you might as well as her out!”

“I’m not asking her out on a date with all of you here!” Steve countered, staring at all of his friends like they were insane.

Robin rolled her eyes, looking at Nancy, then him, “You asked Nancy to have six kids that time we went road tripping a few years ago. What difference does that make now?” 

Mike groaned, covering his face in discomfort remembering overhearing that conversation. “I didn’t have to be reminded of my sister hypothetically having six babies with Steve.”

Jonathan snapped his eyes to Nancy who widened her eyes at Robin, “When was this?” He asked. 

Nancy shook her head, brushing him off, “A long time ago, so it doesn’t matter. And they’re right, you and her obviously have chemistry, so why not just stop wasting time and get it over with?”

“No, we don’t,” Steve shook his head, not sounding as convincing as he’d like. 

Nance tilted her head, giving him those doubtful eyes, “Really? Do you actually believe that for one second?”

“You keep following her around like a lovesick puppy.” Jonathan admitted, forgetting about the stupid six children thing and saving it for another day, seeing as though Steve really expected that they all couldn’t see right through you and him. 

“Every time I look over at her to see if I’m doing something right, you’re in my peripheral ogling at her like a piece of art.” Will responded, tearing his eyes away from his canvas. 

“It’s kinda cute.” El said with a giddy smile. 

“She’s always smiling at you for some reason.” Max continued. 

“Which is funny considering that you’re not that pretty to look at,” Eddie quipped, earning a scowl from Harrington. 

Robin rolled her eyes at the men’s consistent banter, knowing she had to work fast before you came back out.

“What we’re trying to say is that she clearly likes you and you like her. You can try denying how you feel, but we know how you get when you start crushing on a girl, so don’t think your lying is going to fool any of us.”

She told him, which would've been reassuring, but asking a girl out in front of a crowd of people wasn’t something that sounded like a good time for him or you. It was just going to put you in that sticky spot with all the attention and most likely to say yes to save him the embarrassment.

He couldn’t do that to you.

“Well, I’m still not asking her out with you guys down my throat. Her and I are just friends. I need to get to know her first. Hell, I don’t even know what her favorite color is or if she likes sports? These are things I should know before I ask a girl out!”

Who was Steve kidding and when did he start caring about frivolous shit like that? You and him could have nothing in common and still he would fawn over you and snowball this crush into something more. Even going as far to turn himself into Picasso's reincarnation if that would make you like him better. 

“I’m back!” You grinned, sauntering down the corridor sporting none other than a cropped Red Sox t-shirt. 

Steve’s favorite team, of course. 

Eddie grunted, already on the tip of making a subtle note, just to see if he was right.

“Nice shirt, but didn’t they lose—“

“Oh, don’t even get me started! The game was totally rigged and if Buckner didn’t mess up that inning, Boston would’ve taken that championship home.” You said intensely, taking your seat between Max and Will once again. 

Everyone’s eyes turned to Steve’s, watching them muddle with even more affection than before. You were his total dream girl. He knew it, and so did everyone else.

“Everything alright?” You chuckled after the short seconds of silence. 

Grunts and hums came from everybody attempting to not fixate their gaze solely between you and Steve, but it was a bit tough considering the stare that Steve had locked on you. 

“Peachy, just trying to remember that date because it was so memorable, and I wished that someone here would make a move and remember it.”

Robin emphasized her words sharply, snapping her fingers to get Steve’s attention in order for him to stop staring at you before you caught him.

Eddie joined in, coughing loudly to “clear” his throat only stopping when Steve finally snapped his eyes away from you.

“Yeah, you know what’s so funny about dates is that they mark something special and really help solidly the—“ 

You lifted your eyes from Will’s painting just in time as Steve shook it off the stare.

“October 27th 1986 but the series went from October 18th through the 27th if we want to get specific.” 

Holy fuck. Holy shit. Holy Mother Of God.

“I—I gotta go to the bathroom!” Steve spat out speedily, resting his mug on the cramped coffee table and shooting up. 

You creased your brows together, watching him trudge down the hallway, clumsily, “The first door on your right—“ 

“Right! Yep! Got it!” He called out, reaching for the handle and nearly propelling himself through the door and slamming it shut. 

You tilted your head, letting out a grunt before turning your eyes to Robin, “I—Is he okay?”

She nodded with a broad smile, sitting up from the couch and knocking Eddie’s arm with her elbow, “He’s actually the one with a small bladder so…yenno, when nature calls am I right?” 

“He and the toilet are gonna be awhile, a date if you will,” Eddie snorted, making you choke on a laugh before giving them a slow head nod and turning your attention back to Will and Max. 

This was by the far the longest time Steve had ever spent staring at himself in the mirror for something not related to his looks. This time around, he was staring for another reason, trying to find the Steve within him that would actually pull the trigger and ask you out already. It was clear as day that he liked you. He didn’t need anymore confirmation of it, he knew his feelings.

But he also knew you were worth more than this and more than the old Steve. 

The old Steve could easily swoon you with a pickup line and flirty eyes: the King Steve that you had heard about from Robin. But that wasn’t who Steve was anymore and it sure as hell wasn’t the version of himself he wanted to be when he was with you.

He wanted to be better, to show you that you actually did deserve someone with character within them. Even after all this improvement and trying to actually search for a relationship that consisted of love rather than just sex, he didn’t know if he was good enough for you. If you’d even want to go on a date with him. 

He wouldn’t know if he didn’t take a chance. 

But what if all you wanted was to be friends? 

Would that ruin your friendship with Robin? 

Could you possibly imagine yourself ever being friends with her again after her best friend made a pass at you?

He liked you, but he loved Robin and knew this friendship meant a lot to her. The last thing he wanted to do was jeopardize it because of a crush even if Robin was fully in support of it.

Maybe you and him were supposed to be just friends. 

“Steve! Dude, c’mon we gotta go.” Dustin’s voice came from the outside of the door, knocking firmly against the wood. 

He furrowed his brows, unlocking the door and pulling it open, “Go? Go where? We just got here.” 

Dustin sighed, gesturing back to the living room where you were helping the others clean up, “Nance called home and Mrs. Wheeler said that Holly had an allergic reaction. We gotta get home ASAP!” 

“So why can’t Nancy and Mike go home and we stay?” Steve hissed more harshly than intended. 

The boy shook his head in incredulity, crossing his arms over his chest, “Need I remind you we drove here in Eddie’s van? We all need to leave together or else you’re stranded in Roane, but by the sound of it, you wouldn’t mind at all.” 

Dustin wore a knowing sneer while Steve bit down on his tongue, not really wanting to lash out on the kid who was pointing out the very obvious feelings that he did a horrible job at hiding. 

“C’mon lover boy, we got a hive covered six-year-old who needs the hospital and we gotta house sit for a few hours.” Dustin said, finally patting Steve on the arm before turning on his heel and heading back to the living room. 

He followed closely behind, seeing everyone begin the file out the door where you hugged each of them. 

“I hope everything is ok with your sister! Please, just don’t hesitate to call if there’s anything I can do to help!”

You tightly wrapped your arms around Nance, closing your eyes as you rubbed her back affectionately and heard her murmur a “thank you so much,” before pulling away. 

“Bye! Thanks for having us, again!” Dustin saluted with a toothy grin before you giggled and hugged him. 

Steve was the last one left in the doorway with you, keeping his hands to his side not knowing if he should open up to hug you first or not. 

“Oh! Hold on, don’t go anywhere. I gotta give you something!” You pointed your finger at him and jogged through your apartment into your room, coming out a few seconds later with his yellow pullover folded neatly in your hands. 

You held it out to him, wearing a smile on your face. “I washed it and ironed out the wrinkles. Sorry if it smells like honeysuckle, it’s just the detergent I use!” 

His heart ached even more knowing this thing would smell like you until the next time it’d be washed. Only fueling the crush he had and taking every ounce in his body not to jump at the opportunity to tell you how down to earth you were and how much he’d like to take you out on a date if you’d let him. But instead, he could only muster out a few sentences. 

“T-thanks! I won’t mind at all…and thanks for having us over, even if it was only for a little.” He laughed, watching you shake your head. 

“No, it was really fun having your guys over, and umm, I invited everyone to come to my art gallery this weekend, and it would really mean a lot if you could make it, if you’re free.” You said tenderly, rubbing your hand over your opposite arm watching a smile break on his face. 

He nodded, “I’m free this weekend so I’ll definitely be there.” 

“Thanks! Robin has the directions and whatnot.” You spoke, nodding your head as you both stood there for a second totally forgetting that he had to go until Eddie beeped his horn. 

You snapped out of your stance, instantly apologizing, “Shit, sorry! Okay, I’ll see you!’ 

Steve wasn’t at all prepared for your arms to wrap around his neck, hugging him closely, feeling your breath fan again his skin as he hurriedly draped his arms across your back, squeezing you tight, “Y-yeah! See you then…” 

Pulling away from Steve felt difficult just as hard as it would be knowing that you wouldn’t be able to see him for a while. It didn’t help that you and him didn’t get to speak as much as you’d like because you really wanted to get to know him more. To ask him about life in Hawkins and how he liked Roane so far.

It just didn’t help that you felt like you crossed a line after telling Steve that he was “pretty sweet himself.” 

Was that too forward of you? 

Maybe it was too corny? 

Did it throw him off? 

It probably did throw him off. It had to have been that. After you replied with that sad excuse of what was supposed to be a compliment, Steve started acting weird. Strolling off to the kitchen with Robin and Eddie, probably telling them all about how you sucked at flirting. Even excusing himself to the bathroom in a haste when he clearly didn’t have to use it.

For a minute, you thought that you really did blow your chances with him, but it all drifted away when you caught the smile and wave that he threw at you from the passenger seat of Eddie’s van. 

He looked happy, yet sad to be taking off, kinda like how you looked after needing to leave the Harrington house. You just didn’t want to get your hopes up living for something that had a small probable chance of ever coming to life. There was no telling what mood you and Steve would be feeling the next time you saw each other, and you didn’t want to jinx it before it was too late.

You just closed the door, pressing your back against the wood knowing that everything in your system was dying for the moment you and Steve would see each other next.

For now, you’d have to pad across your apartment thinking about him wherever you strayed, wishing he was following close behind like he always was. But he wasn’t.

The only trace he left behind was his scent lingering in the air and the strawberry cup that was yours, but you didn’t mind if it belonged to him now.

Truly, you were screwed, living for the hope of it all.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated 💌

a/n: chapter one is here!!! ive been working on this for a while and was actually supposed to make this series only 3 parts but i love it so much (and tumblr is laggy lately) that i wanted to split them up into more parts and ill also be opening my inbox to blurbs for what im coining "glitch universe" very soon!!! i hope you all love this chapter and stick around for the rest!! a big thanks to effie again for helping me proof-read and hyping me up through all this!!!! happy reading to all!!!!! 🍰🍓🧸

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