#i love single dad steve

[steventhusiast]

Steve's exhausted after a day at the museum with his daughter. She spent all day running away from him to get to the next exhibit, and he spent all day fondly chasing after her and wishing he'd brought the backpack leash with him. The ride back to Hawkins from the city is about an hour and a half, so he made sure to rush to get on the train first to secure them seats at a booth table. Sam having a place to put her toys down is very important for tantrum-avoiding reasons.

So sue him if he doesn't notice that there's a man sat opposite them when he finally gets to sink down into a seat on the train.

He's leaning down to find Sam's two action figures he let her bring with her, when he hears her start giggling next to him. When he sits back up, he's a little startled to see a man with long, wavy, pretty hair sat opposite them. He's making silly faces at Sam, a book held open in one hand as he puts all his energy into poking his tongue out at the 4-year-old.

In response Sam blows a raspberry at the man, and Steve holds back a laugh. God, the man is charming him without even talking to him. He's cute, and he's unafraid to be silly to make a kid smile?

"Alright, Samshine, I don't think this poor man wants your germs all over him. What do we say?" He prompts.

Sam looks chastised, and goes from giggling at the man to pouting at her dad.

"Sorry." She says to him, but Steve shakes his head gently and pointedly glances to the stranger, "Oh!" She gasps, "Sorry, Mr Stranger."

The stranger just chuckles and shakes his head.

"No worries at all, milady. But please call me Eddie, Mr Stranger is my father."

Steve was not expecting that reply at all, and he can't help but let out an audible laugh. Eddie's brand of charming is a little weird, but Steve likes it. Sam, on the other hand, is frowning at Eddie in confusion.

"Okay, you have to call me Sam though! Wait- Your last name is Stranger?"

She asks, and sounds so excited about the possibility that Steve ruffles her hair.

"Unfortunately not. I was just trying to make your poor dad laugh, he looks very tired. You had him running around all day?"

The question is all it takes for Sam to launch into a play-by-play of her entire day, and Steve feels like he should apologise for her behaviour, but Eddie genuinely looks like he's having a good time talking to her.

"I'm sorry if you were planning on reading, I think Sam's thinking you're her new best friend." Steve chuckles after a bit, partially because he also wants to talk to this pretty stranger and partially because he knows how overwhelming a 4-year-old talking at you can be, but Eddie just redirects his bright smile to Steve.

"No, no. This kid's a better storyteller than any author. But, if I'm gonna talk with her any longer I feel like I should know your name too?"

"Steve. Steve Harrington." Steve introduces, and smiles at the man, whose eyes go a little wider at his name.

"Holy shi-shrimp. Holy shrimp. Harrington?" Eddie squints at him for a few seconds, and then nods and leans back, "Wow, it really is you."

"Sorry, do I know you?" Steve feels a little awkward, mentally running through where he could know Eddie from. He supposes he looks a bit familiar, but not enough for him to comment on it.

"Daddy stop talking to Eddie he's s'posed to play superheroes with me!" Sam interrupts them, and shoves one of her action figures across the table toward Eddie.

"One second, Lady Sam. Your daddy went to high school with me and doesn't even remember! This is blasphemous!" Eddie says before Steve gets the chance to say anything, dramatically clutching at his chest like he's in pain as he goes.

At those words Steve pauses a little. High school?

It's his turn to squint at Eddie for a second, and he suddenly remembers the renowned drug dealer turned super senior. Eddie Something. Steve never really talked to him, mostly because he was repressing his queerness and Eddie was hot and open about his freak status and that scared him. He racks his brain for Eddie's last name. It begins with an M for sure. Munson!

Wait. Drug dealer. Talking to his kid. He better not be doing that anymore. He distantly wonders if there's any product in Eddie's backpack that sits on the seat beside him.

Eddie seems to know the moment Steve's connected the dots because Steve goes from squinting in confusion to squinting in suspicion.

"You don't even need to ask. No, I no longer..." Eddie pauses to look at Sam, "I no longer am an entrepreneur. Or- Well. I am, but I'm a tattoo artist."

"Okay. Good. And before you ask I'm no longer a..." He holds both hands over Sam's ears and only mouths the next part, "douchebag."

Eddie laughs and nods.

"I see that. Can't believe I didn't recognise you with the glasses." Eddie says.

"Daddy." Sam whines, and dramatically shakes her action figure, "I wanna play."

"Alright, alright. Sorry, Eddie, we'll have to catch up at the high school reunion." Steve jokes, and Eddie pulls a face.

"Ugh, as if I'm stepping foot in Hawkins High ever again. You'll have to give me your number if you wanna catch up." Eddie says with a wink.

Steve blushes and looks down, and Eddie's words seem to catch up to him. Steve distantly wonders what the hell Eddie’s doing going back to Hawkins. It doesn’t sound like he still lives there, and Steve hasn’t seen him around.

"Unless, of course, there is a Mrs Harrington. In which case, I am so sorry and will play superheroes with your kid the entire rest of this train ride." He rushes out, looking a little embarrassed.

Sam giggles at the words.

"Daddy's not married, silly!" She laughs a little more after that, finding everything hilarious, "Now can we play?"

Eddie lets out a relieved breath, and glances at Steve again with a little smile, before putting all his attention on Sam and picking up the action figure she wants him to play with.

"Of course, Lady Sam. Only if I get to be the villain."

Steve reaches into his pocket for the tiny notebook he keeps there, and scrawls out his number before he can think too much about it. Robin’s always telling him he needs to put himself out there more. And Eddie already knows about Sam, which is half the battle for Steve when it comes to dating. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that Eddie’s just as attractive and charismatic 8 years out of high school.

Sam only looks a little peeved when he interrupts the intense superhero-villain fight she's having with Eddie to slide his number across the table.

[spicycinnabun]

They were in the middle of a conversation about Eddie’s new job at the music center. Eddie was gesticulating wildly as he talked about one of his students—apparently, the boy was going to be the next Kirk Hammett—when Steve noticed a familiar shade of red on Eddie’s index finger.

Steve grabbed Eddie’s hand without thinking and lifted it to eye level. There was a gash, bleeding sluggishly. “You’re hurt,” he said, frowning. “Paper cut?”

Eddie laughed, surprised. “Oh, shit. Didn’t even feel that. Must be.”

Steve tutted. His paternal instincts immediately kicked in as he fished a bandaid out of his jacket pocket.

He carried those around daily now, along with Kleenex and hand sanitizer. Kids got dirty or hurt almost every hour of the day. It was ridiculous.

Steve tore the wrapper off and carefully applied the Band-Aid. It was pink. Hello Kitty.

Eddie twitched in his hold, but he didn’t pull away. “Stevie—” he started, just as Steve, still on autopilot, brought Eddie’s bandaged finger to his lips and kissed it.

Eddie made a noise, and Steve froze when he realized what he’d done.

“Uh,” Steve said eloquently. He dropped Eddie’s hand like it was on fire and stepped back, blushing profusely. “Sorry, I’m so used to doing that for Jackie, I wasn’t even thinki—”

“Hey,” Eddie interrupted him. He sounded incredibly amused.

Steve wanted to die. He could hear the smirk in Eddie’s voice, knew it was as wide as ever, and he couldn’t look up and face it.

“It’s okay. Thank you. My booboo feels better.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Steve said, laughing and hiding his face behind his palms. “Oh my god.”

Eddie gently grabbed his wrists and pulled them away, ducking his head to meet Steve’s eyes. “Afraid I can’t do that. You’ve treated my wound. We’re bonded now, and I must repay you for your kindness.”

“I hate you.”

Eddie’s eyes twinkled. He tilted his head. “Can I take you out for a milkshake?”

Oh…?

Oh.

“Yeah.” Steve zipped up his jacket. Straightened it. Tried to scrape up a single ounce of the coolness he still possessed. “I want a burger, too. And curly fries. And we can't be too long because I have to pick Jackie up at six. She’s on a playdate.”

Eddie’s grin softened. “Of course. Your wish is my command, sweetheart. If I may?”

Steve nodded, slightly confused, until Eddie snagged his hand and held onto it as they started to walk. It didn’t help chill Steve out, especially when Eddie squeezed, and he felt the Band-Aid flirt along the skin of his pinky knuckle.

[trensu]

ETA: now on ao3 as Hawkins Halfway House for Homeless Horrors

ETA2: now with an additional snippet

okay, how's this for an AU

We know that Steve wants to be a dad. Like, his literal life dream is to have a minimum of six children. SIX. who wants that?? crazy people, that's who. but we forgive him his insanity because he's sweet and will actually probably be a really good dad and there's not enough of those in the world.

the downer is that it's the late 90s, he's a (still) single guy in his thirties, and every adoption agency on the planet would rather give their children to a heteronormative couple who don't even want kids than to a single dude who would dedicate his heart and soul to giving his kids a happy healthy home.

He's bemoaning his fate to Robin at a bar they recently discovered. It's a weird little joint, kinda tucked away on the outskirts where Steve could've sworn didn't exist just last week. The patrons were kinda weird too but neither he or Robin could put their finger on why or how. If Steve had been a little less miserable, and Robin a little less caught up in comforting him, they might've noticed how everyone else in the bar kept sneaking curious glances at them or how they somehow always kept most of their features hidden.

They didn't though. Even when they were interrupted by a handsome black gentleman who called himself Jeff. Jeff said that he couldn't help but overhear their dilemma and that he's actually part of an agency that is more open minded about potential foster or adoptive parents. Steve's a little deeper in his cups than he intended, and doesn't question that some random guy in a bar is offering him a chance of having children. Robin is not as far in her cups and finds it a bit suspicious.

She was going to say something about it but Jeff looked her in the eye and said, "Everything is fine. There's no reason to worry. I'm only trying to help."

"You're only trying to help," Robin murmured back blearily. "Everything is fine. Yeah. Yeah, 'm not worried."

Jeff gives Steve his card and tells him he can stop by the very next day if he'd like, since his schedule is open.

The next day, Steve is regretting having gotten so drunk. Not really because of the hangover (though holy shit, he is NOT twenty anymore he needs to stop drinking like one). No. It's because Jeff had just finished giving him a tour of the facility full of rambunctious children in need of a home.

Actually, that had been pretty okay even if the other adults in the facility startled at the sight of him and the children kept ducking into other rooms to hide from him.

No. It's because Jeff had just introduced him to a child named Dustin who sneezed unexpectedly and somehow turned into a kitten.

"Um," Steve said. Jeff sighed.

"Dustin hasn't gotten back control over his shapeshifting since his mother's passing, but I assure you he's been improving."

"...shapeshifting," Steve said, numbly.

"Yes. Dustin tends to go for cat shapes, like his mother did." Jeff bends down to pick up the loudly mewing tabby kitten. "We've managed to get him to shift mostly into a domestic shorthair, rather than a cougar cub."

"That's great," Steve squeaked as he tried to tamp down the growing hysteria in him. "Really, really great. Y'know what, Jeff, this whole thing's been great but I think I'm still kind of drunk so I'm just gonna go--"

"No, wait," Jeff says, quickly placing the Dustin kitten on his shoulder before reaching out to grab Steve by the elbow. "Please. Look, you seem like a good guy. I did a quick scan of you and everything, and I really think if you'd take a moment to sit down and--"

"JEFFORD BILLANY JONES."

Jeff's shoulders hunched, nearly dislodging Dustin from his shoulder. He sighed again and turned to face the man storming towards him and Steve.

"Eddy, you know none of that is my name."

"I'll call you whatever I want since for some unfathomable reason, you've brought a human into my sanctuary. Why is there a human in my home, Jeffamy."

"Eddy, let me explain."

"It's Eddie in front of the human," Eddie said.

Steve's brain was experiencing some sort of malfunction because Jeff had been calling this man Eddie, except if he concentrated, the way Jeff said Eddie and the way Eddie had said Eddie sounded very very different except it hadn't because they both sounded like Eddie except for how Jeff's Eddie sounded different from, the same as, different, just like--

A pair of ringed fingers snapped aggressively in front of his face, startling Steve from an impending aneurysm.

"You. Who are you, who sent you, what do you want."

Steve stuttered something incoherent. He's pretty sure he's had a mental break from reality. There was some sort of sentient black sludge creeping across the tiled floor, wrapping a tendril around Jeff's leg.

"What is that?" Steve squawked. Jeff beamed at him.

"Oh, this is El! She's a Monster Under the Bed. She hasn't decided on a form yet, but that's okay, we love her just as she is."

"Jeff," Eddie snapped. Jeff looked at Eddie stubbornly.

"You told me we needed all hands on deck."

"How dare you, I'd never stoop to using boat metaphors."

"Don't distract me with blatant lies. Eddy, you said we needed help. You said you'd take anyone at this point."

Steve has not been able to stop staring at the sludge creature (El?). He's beginning to realize that he can't quite remember what Jeff looked like, or any of the adults they had seen. He's noticing that some of the children that have been scampering about had looked off. Like the boy with the bowl-cut they had passed by earlier who had looked...frosty around the edges. Or the girl he thought had had red feathers in her hair but is now suspecting the feathers were something more than decorative.

Ringed fingers snap in front of his face again. Steve finally focused on the man named Eddie who was actually named Eddie which was different from Eddie somehow. Now that he's able to shove away the confusion that is this man's name, he's struck by the fact that Eddie was quite possibly the most gorgeous man Steve's ever seen. He had wide, dark eyes that made Steve think of seabeds in the deepest of waters. His hair was a riot of dark brown curls that for some reason brought to mind swirling schools of fish.

"Answer my questions," Eddie demanded. Steve blinked and, with some difficulty, remembered the previous interrogation.

"Uh, I'm Steve. Jeff invited me because I want to be a dad."

Eddie barked out a laugh.

"Oh, is that right? In that case, welcome to Hawkins' Halfway House for Homeless Horrors! I'm sure Jeff would love to finish introducing you to the rest of our children. Have you met Mike? He's a ghoul! Or Lucas! He's a werewolf and his dream is to become a basketball star. They both have very sharp teeth so watch out for their tantrums."

Jeff scowls at Eddie before turning back to Steve. Steve was starting to feel faint and he was no longer sure if he regretted drinking the night before or regretted not drinking more.

"Steve, it's okay. Eddy is making it sound scarier than it actually is. You said you wanted to be a dad, and we need foster parents that can help these kids learn how to blend in with humans. That's what the halfway house is for, but there's only so much they can learn while living in sanctuary. We need a way to have them experience the human world more directly while still keeping them safe, and I think you're the solution we've been looking for. What do you think?"

"I think I need to sit down," Steve said thinly. Eddie snorted derisively. Steve was slightly offended but honestly everything was a bit too much right now and he really would like to sit down for a moment just to process. Because monsters are real, apparently, and some of them need parents. Which was terrifying to think about but also not so much? Because all kids were little monsters some of the time right? If Steve could have a moment to get his bearings...

"This was a terrible idea, Jeffathan."

"I think it was a great idea, actually. I really think this could work."

"No. I forbid it. Don't do this again."

Then there was a sweet and beautiful humming. It made the edges of Steve's mind go fuzzy and soft. He blinked slowly and looked for the source of the sound. Eddie stared at him intently and when he spoke, his voice was like music.

"Steve," Eddie said. "Steve, do you want to make me happy?"

Steve nodded dumbly. He wanted that more than anything in the whole world. He wanted to make Eddie smile. He wanted Eddie to never stop singing.

"It would make me very happy if you went home and forgot everything you saw here today," Eddie continued.

Steve made a sad sound. He didn't want to forget. He didn't want to forget beautiful, gorgeous Eddie and this place that could make his dream come true.

"Please, Steve," Eddie's lyrical voice took on an aching mournful tone. "If you don't, you'll break my heart. I'll never be happy again."

The sadness in the song made Steve feel like the world was ending. Eddie couldn't be sad! Steve would rather die than make Eddie sad!

"I forget," Steve mumbled through the fog in his mind. "And you'll be happy?"

"So happy. I'd be the happiest man alive if you do that one little thing for me, my sweet Steve."

Steve nods again. "Okay."

"Good boy," Eddie croons. Steve felt like he swallowed the sun at those words. He followed Eddie as Eddie guided him through the halfway house. Eddie hummed his lovely song the entire way.

"Go home and forget," Eddie sang one last time as he helped Steve get behind the wheel of his car.

"Yeah," Steve replied dreamily and drove away.

--

The telephone rang shrilly through his apartment. Steve stumbled out of bed and picked up, only fumbling it a little bit.

"H'llo?"

"Steve, what the hell, I've been trying to get a hold of you all day! Where have you been?" Robin's voice rang out, making Steve flinch. He scrubbed his free hand over his face tiredly.

"Home? I just woke up," Steve said. It was weird that he was fully dressed, he thought dazedly, but it wouldn't be the first time he's passed out drunk in his street clothes. Was he wearing this shirt yesterday? He could've sworn he'd worn the navy one.

"What? Just now? It's like five in the evening!"

"Huh. That'd explain the weird dream," Steve mumbled.

"Was it the one where you get seduced by a giant squid? Because I don't need to know more about your weird tentacle fetish."

"I don't have a tentacle fetish! I had the dream ONE time, and I wasn't being seduced, I was getting drowned and it was terrifying!"

"To-may-to, to-mah-to."

"Whatever, this one was weirder anyway."

"I find that hard to believe but now I'm morbidly curious. Hit me with it."

"...I don't remember."

"There goes my entertainment for the evening."

"Was there a reason you called, Robin?"

"Yes! I met this girl named Chrissy and I swear Steve, she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen..."

Beautiful. Steve had the faint impression of dark eyes and silver rings, but it was quickly washed away like a child's sandcastle in the tide under the onslaught of Robin's ramblings. As he listened to his best friend, he couldn't help but feel there was something he'd forgotten. There was something he'd been planning on doing today, wasn't there...?

...oh, well. If it was really important, he'd remember eventually.

[slashersteve]

iii. winter

part three of confetti ✦ previous part ✦ series masterlist ✦ archive link

pairing: Single Dad!Steve Harrington/Female Reader

summary: As Hawkins enters the winter months, Steve starts thinking seriously about his romantic relationships - past and potential future ones - and isn’t sure he’s ready to let someone become a serious part of his and Cassie’s life. The problem is…he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you.

warnings/extra tags: cursing, mentions of alcohol, the softest vanilla SMUT I’ve ever written like it's pretty vague but still enough to be considered nsfw so read at your own discretion, surprise character appearances, a parent trap alskjaskja, angsty tm so beware, daddy steve being my (your) beloved, go give @gothbitchshit a bouquet of flowers for dealing with me and these ridiculously long chapters, edited by me have mercy this chapter has been the beautiful bane of my existence

note: i publicly apologize for this being posted well into spring. Not to be a basic author note but *insert the horrors and atrocities right here* i also apologize in advance for something else in the end...anyway, I hope you all enjoy this extra long chapter of single daddy steve 💙

✦✦✦

Cassie loved the mall. 

She really just enjoyed the vibrant colors of it as it was the complete opposite color scheme of Hawkins itself. It was bright, and always full, and lively, especially when Christmas was just around the corner. If Cassie were being honest though, she would say she enjoyed going to Starcourt because her dad would get her ice cream every time, even on a day like this where snow covered the ground outside.

Also, it meant she could get the full day to be with her dad, even if he was busy behind the ice cream counter in his silly sailor uniform, complete with the white hat that read “AHOY” across the front that he’d somehow stuff his hair under. 

Cassie was given a matching one, but it sat on the table top of the booth she was currently sitting in, headphones placed over her head instead. She was nodding her head to the music, kicking her feet out to its funky beat. She hadn’t quite memorized the songs by title, rather by sound but she liked this one the most; really she liked all of them. 

It had all she had been listening to since Steve had given her your walkman you gifted her, and Cassie had been waiting on another mixtape from you (she had practically begged you when she last saw you last week, which was at a school presentation for school safety, she remembers…she also remembers looking over and seeing her dad pushing people just to stand by you).

In front of her was her over break homework packet, her math homework to be specific. Cassie prided herself in being good at it, having been applauded by her teacher Mrs. Holland numerous times in class. There were hardly any red marks on homework when it was returned to her, too, something her dad was always impressed by when she’d bring it back to him, especially if he hadn't helped her at all, so she wasn’t planning on falling behind. 

She counted away at the images of the apples. This particular section she was working on was on addition and she meticulously counted them all together with her candy cane themed pencil her teacher had passed out to the class the week prior. 

One…two…three…four…  

Twenty-two, there were twenty-two apples. She filled it in on the empty box behind the equal sign. 

The patrons were used to seeing Cassie here on occasion, though every so often somebody who was not from Hawkins and visiting from a neighboring town (as Starcourt was quite popular because of its size), would look at her and wonder why a little girl was sitting all by herself. 

If they asked Cassie, she’d simply point to her dad behind the counter and say, “I’m not alone! My daddy is right here!” Then, Steve would wave at her, and the person would awkwardly walk off. That was the typical Saturday spent at Scoops Ahoy, but today something different would happen, something neither Cassie nor Steve were expecting just a week before Christmas. 

In the middle of Cassie’s music playing, someone had taken off her headphones. She had gasped, feeling her heart jump out of her chest with fear and confusion as to what happened- she hardly got upset, and her streak still stands as the moment she turned to see who had done such a thing, her irritation vanished. 

“Robin!” Cassie shouted at the sight of the sandy blonde haired woman. She smiled widely at Cassie, opening her arms just as the little girl hopped into them, “I didn’t know you were coming!” 

“Long time no see, huh Tiny Harrington?” Robin Buckley had said, embracing Cassie warmly as it had been a while since she last saw her favorite child, “Where’s your dad? Is he- oh come on .” 

Her blue eyes darted to Steve behind the counter, not remembering the last time she’d seen Steve in the ridiculous Scoops Ahoy uniform they had to wear the summer they became unlikely friends. Cassie giggled, taking Robin’s hand in hers and leading her toward the counter. Steve had yet to see them, too focused on making a U.S.S. Butterscotch (complete with some peppermint candy swirls for the Holidays). He hadn't even heard Cassie shout Robin’s name so excitedly. 

Robin looked down at Cassie, placing a finger over her lips then winking at her as she rang the bell by the counter. Cassie giggled, but suppressed it as she didn’t want to alarm her dad.

“Be right with you,” Steve called back to her, and Robin scoffed and rang it again…then again…and then again. Steve’s shoulder’s visibly became tense, and he let out an exasperated sigh before he started to turn around. 

“Alright, alright what can I-” he stopped when his eyes fell upon Robin, and she smirked at him, “Oh my god, you didn’t tell me you were coming, Robin? Holy shit-” 

“I wanted it to be a surprise- and it certainly is, ” Robin gestured to Steve and then the entire place as she said, “You’re working here ? I thought you said you got a third job last time we spoke.” 

Steve’s cheeks became flushed, embarrassed that Robin had caught him red handed like this. The truth was that Steve was actually hiding this job from Robin, keeping his third job he mentioned in passing to her whenever they spoke over the phone very vaguely . 

“Daddy started working here in the summer,” Cassie stated, outing Steve even more and Robin’s jaw dropped, “I like it because I get free ice cream! He can get you free ice cream too, you know!” 

Robin looked at Cassie and ruffled her hair, “I spent way too much time in this place, I’ll pass on the ice cream, so hey…that just means more ice cream for you.” 

Cassie looked confused, but with Robin’s final statement she grew more content and nodded eagerly at the idea of more ice cream. 

“So all summer you’ve been working here, slinging ice cream- wearing the hat - you hated that hat,” Robin said, gesturing to him. Steve licked his suddenly dry lips, and turned away from Robin to finish completing the U.S.S. Butterscotch sundae as he said, “I needed a third job, and the manager remembered me…” 

“No way. I thought he might have you on the ‘Never Working Here Again’ list after the summer you well- we got fired,” Robin chided, and Steve laughed sarcastically as he turned and placed the sundae down, calling out the name of the patron. They took it, a few younger girls, and thanked him shyly before running off giggling. Robin scoffed at that, and Steve appeared to not even notice they were clearly crushing on the sailor who worked at Scoops Ahoy.

“Yeah…actually I had to bring Cassie up and he decided to give me the job when I proved she existed…hence why I’m wearing the hat and following…stupid company policy to keep the damn- ahem- dang job,” Steve finally replied, admitting that part to Robin. Robin crossed her arms, knowing that to be true as she had told Steve he could probably bring up that he’s a single dad and get away with anything. 

“Well, I’m not judging,” Robin lied, and Steve knew it, “You just could’ve been honest about it.” 

She wondered what other things he had been keeping from her…

“How did you find me anyway?” Steve questioned, glancing down at Cassie who was gazing up at Robin with wonder and disbelief in her eyes that Robin was here. It made him smile softly before his eyes lifted back up to meet Robin’s.

“Are you kidding me…ask any mom at the grocery store and I can get your entire schedule,” Robin said. She laughed at Steve’s horrified expression at the idea of that and waved him off as she said, “Joking. I asked Mrs. K and she said to check Scoops Ahoy. And here you are…she just didn’t say you would be working here.” 

She looked around, feeling nostalgia come over her from the memories in this mall ice cream parlor. She remembered the dread of being put on shifts with Steve Harrington, once King of Hawkins High and all around asshole, and then…she remembered the warmer parts, ones where they actually became friends and she started to actually have fun working and talking with him. He was very different than she thought he would be, and if someone had told her that first day she put on the silly sailor uniform and prayed a meteor would hit and kill her before her first shift with Steve that she’d consider him her best friend in the future…she would’ve laughed then cried into her hands dramatically.

“Robin, Robin,” Cassie was grabbing her hand, “How long are you going to stay? Please say for like… months .” 

Robin smiled at Cassie and replied, “Sorry kiddo, I’m only here for a few days because I’ll start to miss my other favorite person, but before you get sad- I have a lot of things planned for us, including finding you an early Christmas gift. What do you say? Want to go check out some stores while your dad slings ice cream into cones?” 

Her brown eyes lit up, and she turned to her dad as she said, “Can I go with Robin, daddy?” 

Steve crossed his arms over his chest, and said, “Did you finish your homework?” 

Robin rolled her eyes for Cassie, but she had practically ran to the booth, and snatched the paper off of the table before running back and waving it in the air. Steve took it, giving it a once over, before he nodded. 

“Yeah, go ahead- make sure you stay with Robin though, Cass, you know how crazy Christmas shoppers could be,” he told Cassie with a pointed look, Cassie nodded again. 

“I will, I promise!” 

“You know I’d never let anything happen to her, Popeye,” Robin said, bringing back the infamous nickname from their Scoops Ahoy days. Steve visibly grimaced at being called that, but he nodded, knowing that out of everyone he could trust Robin with his daughter. 

“Great, then we’ll come back, we’ll all go out to eat- hopefully you have a change of outfit- then we’ll catch up, yeah?” 

“Sounds like a plan,” Steve replied with a nod. 

So, the two girls were off, Cassie holding on tightly to Robin’s hand and already talking her ear off (though Robin could give her a run for her money for sure) as they exited Scoops Ahoy together and entered the crowd of Starcourt Mall in search of a Christmas gift for Cassie. 

✧ ✧ ✧

Cassie had dragged Robin to a lot of stores in the span of an hour and half, so much that Robin’s feet were already killing her, but she held on for Cassie as she seemed very particular on what she wanted…except the little girl wasn’t really saying what it was exactly. 

“You clearly want something specific, Tiny, so come on- spit it out,” Robin told Cassie after the fifth store they came out with nothing. She didn’t want to rush her, actually loving spending this time with Cassie as it had been since the beginning of the year she had enough time to make the trip down here from New York. 

It was unusual for Cassie to not say what was on her mind, so whatever it was…Robin was insanely curious. 

“Is it something your dad won’t approve of?” Robin gasped when Cassie didn’t reply right away, “Oh- well now you gotta tell me.What is it?”

Cassie looked up at Robin with wide eyes as she said, “I want… roller skates , but I can’t skate and I’m scared that Santa knows that so he won’t get me them, but I really want them.” 

Robin did not expect that. Not at all. She stared at the little girl blankly, and for some reason the only use of roller skates she could think of was one of those outdoor hamburger places where the service workers wear skates. Do they do that still? Robin shook her head at her thought. 

“So you didn’t ask Santa for them because you thought he probably wouldn’t give you them because you can’t skate?” Robin asked for further clarification. Cassie nodded, looking actually sad about it. Robin hummed in thought, looking around Starcourt, trying to remember a store here that sold roller skates for kids before she settled her eyes on Cassie, “Well thank god I’m not Santa. Let’s go find you some, Tiny.” 

Cassie was actually the one to drag Robin to the store, very clearly having had her eye on some already. She was the one dragging Robin now, up until they got to this sport’s store Robin doesn’t remember ever being here. Cassie led her toward the roller skates, saying hello to the worker who greeted them when they walked in, and then she stopped in front of a mini display. 

They were purple skates with yellow flower designs on them and the wheels were a darker shade of purple. Very clearly they were training skates for kids like Cassie who want to learn. And, Robin noticed, they were also on sale , which is very, very common around the holidays and good for Robin. 

“Oh wow these are cute,” Robin complimented them and Cassie nodded excitedly.

“I saw them when my daddy brought us here to buy more shoes!” Cassie told Robin, “I really, really want them.” She pressed her hands against the display, and just then the same worker who had greeted them was approaching them. 

“Is there anything I can help you with?” they had asked Robin. She looked at them, then pointed to the skates, telling Cassie to give them her shoe size. The worker nodded, saying they’d be right back and for Cassie to take a seat. 

She did as told, hopping onto one of the chairs and Robin leaned on one leg, wondering where Cassie might’ve found a sudden interest in roller skating. It can’t have been Steve, both him and her were horrible at ice skating that one year when Cassie was only 4 they decided to go to the ice rink set up in Hawkins Downtown for the winter. And he seemed way too busy to have suddenly learned how to skate properly…

“So…roller skates huh? Why the sudden interest? Your dad’s not skating again right? Because he’s horrible at it,” Robin said just as the worker returned with the proper sized skates. Robin shooed them away, deciding that she would help Cassie get them on herself. She knelt down in front of the girl as Cassie kicked her snow boots off, revealing candy cane themed socks. 

Cassie laughed at Robin’s jab at her dad before she said, “No, it’s his friend.” 

As Robin got the first skate on she shot Cassie a questionable look, “Friend? Your dad’s only friend is me .” 

Cassie nodded though, and then she said a name, your name, that Robin has never heard before in her life, at least out of Steve’s mouth. 

“She’s very nice! And I know that if I have these then she’ll teach me how to skate, she told me she used to skate all the time when she was little,” Cassie started to boast, a wide smile growing on her lips, eagerly talking about you . 

All Robin could do though was stare at Cassie with a bewildered look as she thought she? A woman? Steve’s friends with a woman?  

“Woah woah woah, wait- she’s your dad’s friend ?” 

Cassie hummed, “Mmhm, I really like her…and my daddy does too… a lot .”

She supposed that Steve was hiding a lot more from her than she thought, starting with him working at Scoops Ahoy again, and a mysterious woman Cassie claims he likes, in his daughter’s own words, a lot . Robin helped her get the other skate on, navigating in her mind this new information but deciding that she should get as much information as possible from Cassie before she definitely confronts Steve about it later. 

“A mysterious lady your dad likes… interesting …tell me more about her, my tiny friend. What is she like? How do you know your dad likes her a lot? What have you seen ?” 

Cassie stared at her, hanging onto every question before she looked away in thought, even placing her hand into her chin before she started to first tell Robin how nice you were, how she would give you carrots for lunch because she didn’t want them, she told her how you went apple picking with them and how you got Steve to actually bake (which shocked Robin very much), and how you even taught her to bake as well. 

She boasted on and on about you, before ending it on spending Thanksgiving together (something that made Robin’s jaw promptly drop in complete surprise), and telling her about your gift, gesturing to the walkman headphones that rested on her neck.

“Holy shit,” Robin said, pleasantly surprised by all this information, and kind of miffed that Steve hadn’t told her anything. She couldn’t even find it in herself to censor herself as her thoughts ran rampant. 

She knew Steve, before Cassie, before Cassie’s mom , and she knew him after as well…the possibility of him letting anyone in his life like this, so far as inviting them to a family dinner, seemed quite impossible…and well…at least she knew exactly what the main topic of discussion was going to be after Cassie goes to bed tonight…

Robin turned her attention back onto the skates Cassie was currently wearing, setting aside her intentions with Steve for now, and she stood up, and held her hands out. Cassie took them, and Robin could feel them shaking underneath his grasp. 

In fact, her legs were shaking too, like a newborn deer or something and it even made Robin nervous because she did not have good balance. She wondered if Cassie could ever want to learn how to skate…how you , and every other roller skater did it too. 

“I don’t know about this Cassie…” Robin admitted to her, but Cassie clenched her jaw and shook her head. 

“No…no I want them,” she stated, forcing herself to become more confident, “She will teach me if I have them…and then I’ll get good at it and maybe I can teach my daddy too how to skate.” 

The thought made Robin laugh, and she stepped backwards, Cassie rolling along with her, and almost falling forward and falling on her face had Robin not been holding her, “Gee…these are definitely not Steve of Approved…but honestly…looks like I have competition here with gift-giving…”

Robin’s eyes moved to the walk-man, before she rolled Cassie back to sit down and said, “Okay, I’ll get them for you…but I’m getting you literally every protection gear this place has to offer so your dad doesn’t have a heart attack.” 

Cassie almost cried with happiness, already kicking them off so they could gather the rest of her gift around the store. 

Afterwards, Robin decided to treat Cassie to a movie, buying her whatever snack she wanted and the largest popcorn as well. She enjoyed every second of it, giddy already because of the skates that were packed away into a shopping bag. 

Then, they returned to Scoops Ahoy just in time for Steve’s shift to come to an end. He had changed his outfit completely, wearing a striped sweater underneath the jacket he was currently zipping up and a pair of jeans. The outfit change made total sense considering the current snowy climate outside. 

Cassie was calling him, running into the ice cream parlor and he was quick to catch her and lift her up into his arms with a wide loving smile on his face. Robin strolled up a few seconds after, and Cassie hopped out of her dad’s arms and started to tell him that her Aunt Robin got her a gift. 

Steve stared at the large bag, and Robin smirked as she set it down on one of the empty tables as Steve said cautiously, “Uh…what did she get you?...What did you get her?” Steve was looking at Robin now almost suspiciously and Cassie climbed onto a chair. 

“Roller skates! She got me roller skates!” 

Steve’s brown eyes widened at Cassie’s answer, and Robin pulled out the box to show him the skates properly. 

“Robin- are you- are you serious?” Steve asked, being sure to not sound or look mad in front of Cassie, especially with how excited she seemed to be about this, but he was just concerned with how safe these things would be, already imagining Cassie falling and crying. The idea simply hurt his chest and filled him with fatherly fear. 

“Sure am,” Robin said, slapping the side of the roller skates like a brand new car, “Don’t worry, Popeye, I bought her the latest of protection gear, if she falls the ground would be more hurt than her.” 

Steve crossed his arms, still baffled by the gift. 

“Besides, I need to make sure I remain Cassie’s favorite aunt by coming to town once in a while and getting her whatever she wants,” Robin added, smiling at Cassie who was still beaming about the skates. 

Steve shook his head, amused by Robin’s statement and then he said, “I’m still not…I don’t know, I didn’t even know you wanted roller skates Cass.”

Cassie seemed to finally sense her dad’s hesitation, and she quickly turned to him and claimed that she would be careful, and that you could teach her. 

At the mention of your name, Steve felt the air in his chest release softly and his cheeks had grown quite warm, wondering how it didn’t occur to him that you were the reason for her newfound interest in this. It almost made him smile widely, but he settled on a small one that was barely visible. 

It was visible enough for Robin though who had made sure to look at Steve when Cassie mentioned you. She saw his flushed cheeks, his sudden hesitation all but vanishing in mere seconds. And then Steve settled his eyes back on the skates then at Cassie before he started to nod. 

“Alright, yeah, that’s true…she’s gonna love that you got a pair,” Steve said, voice filled with the warmth that matched his cheeks and now his chest. Cassie cheered, then Robin cheered too with Cassie, making Steve’s smile grow and uncross his arms. 

The three had gone out to eat at a diner after they left Starcourt, Cassie ordering belgian waffles for dinner, Robin’s treat again, before they were settling into the Harrington household. It was just a small house, two bedrooms, but the living room was pretty big for a small home. A Christmas tree was set up by the window in the front, lit up with vibrant colors and decorated with ornaments Cassie had made at school. Gifts were already set under the tree, wrapped pretty decently. 

Robin was lounging out the couch, having kicked off her shoes and she was watching Cassie roll around the living room, her head covered by a large purple helmet that matched the color of her skates and pads wrapped around her knees and elbows. 

She was laser focused, holding onto the wall for dear life and looking down with a determined look in her eyes as she rolled forward little by little. Steve was in the kitchen, and Robin could already smell the sweet scent of hot chocolate. 

With the heater kicked on, and the night still young, Steve came out holding two mugs, one for him and one for Robin, Cassie had declined any because she wanted to focus on skating during the hour before she would go to bed. 

So, while Cassie did that (trying not to crash into the tree for example), Steve and Robin decided to catch up. Robin told him about her job, and the new apartment she moved into with Vickie, she told him how Nancy and Jonathan were doing, and some fun anecdotes she knew Steve would get a good laugh at. 

Steve told her a few things, starting with the obvious that he was working at Scoops Ahoy again which made Robin tease him about it again. 

“Hey, like I said, I needed a third job, and he agreed to give me a set schedule, weekends only,” Steve told Robin as he leaned back on the couch. 

“No, no I totally get it, I just think it’s funny that you willingly put that uniform on again, you hated it more than I did,” Robin said, bending her leg against her chest and resting her chin on her knee as she laughed. 

“Yeah, but that was when I was fresh out of high school and still cared about my self-image, as a daddy now that wasn’t even a factor,” Steve said, smirking when Robin grimaced at him calling himself daddy . It was fine coming out of Cassie’s mouth, because Steve was her actual dad, but Steve calling himself that? It made her want to gag and Steve knew that. It’s why he said it in the first place. 

“If you’re not Cassie, I don’t want to hear you call yourself daddy,” Robin said, and Steve laughed in response. 

“Speaking of Cassie,” Steve started, turning his head to find her sitting on the floor defeated. He got up, concern crossing over his features for a second as Cassie looked up at him with a frown. She hadn’t fallen, no, they would’ve heard her crash and hit the ground. She was just upset that she wasn’t a master skater already. 

Amusement replaced that concern, and he held his hand out of her take and told her, “Call it a night, yeah? And don’t be so sad, Cass, it’s going to take more than one night of practice.” 

She sighed, and took her dad’s hand and he pulled her back up to her feet, rolling forward and he poked her sides slightly. Cassie giggled, finally smiling before he told her to get ready for bed. She complied, and Steve gave her a gentle push, letting her roll her way down the hall and toward her room. 

Robin got up, stretching her arms out before she decided to help out by taking the now empty mugs to the sink while Steve went with Cassie to help her take the skates and all the gear off. After a few minutes, Cassie came back out to thank Robin for the skates and to give her a big hug before she returned to her room for the night. 

Robin was walking around the living room, eying the various portraits that she hadn’t seen since she was last here. There were a few new ones, like Cassie in a tinkerbell costume in front of Mrs. K’s house next door. Her eyes shifted to the older ones, resting on Cassie when she was just a toddler before moving on to one of Steve and Cassie when she was only just born. 

He was sitting on a lazy-boy, one that used to be in Steve’s old house when he still lived with his parents. Steve was grinning widely, hair greasy and a mess, and he was holding Cassie who was bundled up in a mint green blanket against his chest. He was only 19 at the time, almost 20, and practically still fresh out of high school. Robin remembered when Steve had come to her and told her the news that he was going to be a dad. He was freaking out, and Robin could admit she didn’t help him calm down in the slightest. 

They both had just rambled, Robin shocked by him going to become a parent so young, and what he was going to do and then ranting off ways everything could go wrong and almost making Steve go into cardiac arrest at 19. It was Nancy who promptly calmed Steve down (and thus Robin too).

“Alright, I’m back- what are you doing?” Steve’s voice came from behind Robin, and she turned away from the picture and started to laugh. 

“I was looking at that photo of you and Cass, remember when you told me you were going to be a dad and I kind of sort of freaked out like I was the one about to be a dad or something-” 

Steve scoffed loudly, “ Yeah , you freaked me the hell out, Robin. I was ready to speed off to New York under a new name with all that shit you were saying! Thank god Nance showed up and talked me down.” 

Robin was laughing again, finding it funny now when it wasn’t funny at the time, and Steve started to laugh too as he fell back onto the couch and yawned loudly. Robin frowned, and joined him back on the couch.

“Oh damn, you’re not tired already, right? We have so much more to talk about, ” she said, knowing that she desperately needed to know more about this mysterious woman Cassie claims he likes so much, who got him to bake and joined him on Thanksgiving.

“I’m a daddy, I’m always tired,” Steve told Robin truthfully, to which she gave him a look for calling himself daddy again. He laughed and added, “I don’t really have much else to say-” 

“Oh that’s alright, I have something you can tell me about,” Robin said, cutting him off, “So during our little outing, Tiny Harrington told me something pretty interesting about this very pretty school office worker you seem to really like, care to share anything with the class?” 

Steve snapped his head toward her and he cleared his throat and turned his head back forward and said your name like it was a question. Robin nodded, “Yup, that’s it and you both keep mentioning her…so who is she? Tell me more about her.” 

Robin was now leaning in, needing to know more about this especially from Steve, the guy who hadn’t really been with anyone since Cassie’s mom, well there was one other woman, but she could hardly recall her face or even her name because of how quickly that flame went out. 

Steve pushed his hair out of his face and replied, “She’s just a friend.” 

Now it was Robin’s turn to scoff loudly and she said, “Oh really…do you normally invite friends to have Thanksgiving with your family and the Hendersons? Or to go apple-picking with you?” 

Steve nodded, “Yeah, yeah you can normally invite a friend to things like that.” 

He was very clearly deflecting, and Robin wasn’t buying it, not even when he added, “She’s super nice, really cool…moved here in the summer actually and you know, she doesn’t really have anybody or any family really nearby so I just…you know invited her to join me and Cassie…” 

Robin sighed, slightly disappointed by this and she started to say, “Steve…Steve, Steve, Steve, I know you…you don’t just let people in your life, in Cassie’s life, especially since her mom just up and left. I mean, there was what’s-her-face who you didn’t let her into your life at all which was why the relationship went up in flames in the first place… and now all of a sudden Cassie is telling me about this woman you very clearly like going places with you both and gifting her things…what aren’t you telling me?” 

He tensed up at Robin’s words, seeming to have forgotten that Robin was there for the majority of his life, even though she had promptly brought it up just minutes ago with that memory of him telling her the news. Robin did know Steve, probably more than anybody else in his life. She was there when Cassie’s mom was there, and there when she wasn’t , the aftermath of it all…Steve hated to think about that. He hated it, so he didn’t think about it.

He turned to Robin, who looked more serious now, wanting to know more about you, and wanting Steve to tell her. So he decided he should. 

“We really are just friends,” Steve started with, wanting to make that clear, “I mean…she’s something else , you know? Like…the more I get to know her, the more…amazing I realize she is.” 

He laughed nervously, pink dusting over his cheeks as his thoughts became consumed with you and the feelings you brought out of him.

“And Cassie absolutely loves her, I mean, she literally asked for skates because of her, and she seems to really like hanging out with me and Cassie too,” he continued, thinking of the smile you always put on his and Cassie’s face whenever you’re together, and he finished saying in a breathless voice like the mere thought of you took his breath away, “ Yeah … I really like her. ”

His heart was fluttering in his chest from having finally admitted that outloud to somebody. It became more real then, the feelings that would gather in his entire being whenever you were around, whenever you were even mentioned.

“Knew it,” Robin said, satisfied to get a confession from Steve, “So why are you still just friends then? Is she not interested or something?” 

Steve pressed his lips tightly together and shrugged, “I wouldn’t know, I never asked and…well, I don’t think she’s not interested, I mean… there is something there, like something electric…being with someone finally sounds good, but then-” 

Steve furrowed his brow, as he’s given many thoughts about this whenever it would come up, which was often especially following Thanksgiving when he was tempted to kiss you (and was positive you were going to kiss him too). It was all the same things that stirred inside of him, things that were almost unresolved from the impact Cassie’s mom left on him…he shut his eyes for a moment, the conflict swirling around in him and almost making his stomach hurt along with his head.

Robin was sitting cross-legged, hanging off of Steve’s last word, wanting to know what he was going to say next. 

He sucked in a tight breath then released it before saying, “I just…I don’t have time , you know? If there’s anything I learned from being with Brenda ,” Steve said, reminding Robin of the other woman’s name. Robin snapped her fingers and said quietly ‘ oh yeah Brenda .’

“From being with her, time is just not on my side with my jobs, especially now since I got a third one- I just can never be there for somebody else, I can’t commit to them in the way they want me to,” Steve tried to explain, “And…and I can’t do that to her, I can’t break her heart like that so…yeah she’s my friend, and it’s going to stay that way.” 

Robin frowned at Steve, slightly disappointed that it was still this that was holding him back, keeping him from pursuing any romantic relationship even when he seemed to want one. Hell, even watching him say that he and you were just going to stay friends he looked downright depressed and disappointed. 

She could only sigh, feeling kind of sad for Steve, and his luck with romance after Cassie’s mom, but she always thought that maybe he just hadn’t found the right person, and she still stands by that to this day. Somebody will come around, and for all she knows this right person for Steve could be you …and she feels like she’d know for sure if she met you and got to know you too.

“By the way you’re talking about this girl…I’d really like to meet her,” she said, making Steve look at her again and with squinted eyes he replied, “Absolutely not.”

Robin threw her hand over her chest, heavily offended by his immediate response and she said, “Why not! If she’s so amazing, I’d like to see it for myself. I’m not going to do anything that’ll embarrass you, scout’s honor.” 

“ Nope . No way.”

Robin rolled her eyes, wondering what on Earth she could do that’ll embarrass him more than he tends to embarrass himself, but something told her it was that if you met Robin , his best friend, then that would just let you into his life more…and honestly, maybe he needed that more than he believed he didn’t…

✧ ✧ ✧

It was cold. 

You were wearing more layers today than any other day since the snowy weather arrived. Your entire head was hidden underneath a gray beanie, and the bottom of your face covered by a baby blue knitted scarf you bought off of one of the student’s moms who sold them. 

Even in the confines of the coffee shop, you felt incredibly cold, and were concerned about a cough coming along, your throat a little drier than usual. It was just what you needed, considering the Holidays were just around the corner and you were going to spend it with Heidi’s family. You weren’t sure then, if you were getting sick, that you could go, which was quite disappointing. 

Your name was suddenly called, and you could already taste your favorite hot coffee, and were ready for it to warm your insides. Right after your name was called though, another name was called. You didn’t pay much attention, determined to get your coffee, that you hadn’t realized they had set the identical cups right next to each other. You just grabbed one, and turned away. 

“Oh, wait!” someone called before you could take a sip, and you turned your head to meet the blue eyes of a girl with short blonde hair and freckles decorating her cheeks, “That one is mine! My name’s on it…” 

You blinked and looked down, twisting the cup in your hand to see the name Robin scribbled on the side of it and not your name. You quickly apologized, feeling a little silly for not checking first and held it out for her to take.

“It’s alright, the cups look the exact same,” the girl, Robin, replied to you as she held your coffee out for you to take. She seemed like she was going to say something further, but stopped when her eyes glossed over your name written on the cup as you took it from her, “Oh… Oh …” 

She looked at you, blue eyes observing you closely and then your name before you properly switched. 

You turned away without another word, ready to return to finally take a sip and return to your car when the girl called your name this time. You stopped, thinking maybe you left something but only saw her standing there with her own drink and sheepish smile on her lips. 

“Sorry, I know I probably look like a complete weirdo , and even more so when I say this but…I think I know you, and that you probably know me too? At least by name?” she was saying, and you could only stare at her, trying to see if you could remember exactly who she was and if you’d seen her around here before or heard her name. 

You shook your head when nothing came up and replied, “I’m sorry, I don’t…I can’t really remember.” You laughed awkwardly and she did too. 

“I just thought maybe Steve would’ve mentioned me,” she said, his namedrop making you tilt your head curiously, “I mean he’s mentioned you quite a bit since I came back to town…just wondering if he’s ever mentioned his friend Robin to you.” 

She blinked rapidly at you, then smiled more widely at you. It took you a moment or two before your memory returned. Steve had mentioned her before, you remembered a specific time when you were looking for another movie to watch and he brought to the double VHS section and said something along the lines of “Yeah my best friend Robin made me sit through so many movies, I don’t normally do double VHS, but this one was really good.” And there were others too you would gradually remember.

“Oh yeah! He has! Uh, hi, this is so weird, not that you’re weird, I swear, just-” you laughed nervously, “It’s nice to meet you.” 

“Likewise,” Robin replied, stepping out of the way of other coffee patrons, “So, I hear you and Steve are pretty good friends too.” 

You nodded quite fast at that, then got a little embarrassed that you did so, especially when she raised both eyebrows at you. 

“Yeah I’d say we are,” you said, “Not as good as you two are I bet, I think he mentioned one time you’ve been friends since he graduated High School.” 

“Yeah, we worked at Scoops Ahoy together,” Robin said, and you stared blankly at her, not knowing what a Scoops Ahoy was. And you swore you’ve been to every place in Hawkins thus far, but not wanting to sound stupid by asking you just stayed quiet as Robin continued to say, “Anyway though, I’m sure you got places to be, I got places to be because you know, my mom is just dying to see me.” 

You couldn’t tell if that was sarcasm or not, but she bid you a good-bye before pausing and turning back to you to say, “Hey, wait, around like I don’t know 6, me, Steve and Cassie are going to that pizza place downtown…you should come.” 

“Oh,” you paused suddenly, then said, “I don’t want to intrude on a reunion.” 

Robin laughed at that, “You’re not going to intrude anything, you’re Steve’s friend, I’m his friend, it’ll be just a bunch of friends meeting for some pizza for dinner. I’m sure he’ll love to see you seeing as he talked about you so much.” 

You felt your cheeks heat up at that, then became too preoccupied with the heart in your chest leaping to see Steve again, something that’s become entirely common these days. You subconsciously counted down the days until you would see him again, though you’d never admit anything out loud. Also, she’s mentioned twice that he keeps talking about you…

Robin was staring at you expectantly, and you met her eyes before nodding and saying, “Yeah, okay that sounds like it could be fun.” 

“Yes! Alright, cool,” Robin said, a little too excitedly as she gave you a thumbs up with the hand that wasn’t holding her coffee, “Now, I’m going to go see my mom, and I’ll see you later, you know the one right?” 

You nodded, as there was only one pizza place in Hawkins, and waved a good-bye to Robin as she left the coffee shop before you. You dropped your hand to the side, then remembered that you were cold and that was the reason you bought a coffee. You lifted it to your lips, and drank the hot liquid, but it didn’t do much, as the thought of Steve had already made you warm enough.

✧ ✧ ✧

It was half after six, and Steve, Cassie, and Robin were barely being seated. Robin hadn’t anticipated the place to be so full, even though Steve told her it would be. It wasn’t a long wait, and Steve wasn’t impatient and neither was Robin, Cassie could be impatient, but as long as she had her walkman while they sat in the waiting area she was fine. 

Steve had noticed that Robin kept looking at the door every time it opened, eyes looking over every member of the family that was entering the pizza parlor. He had asked her if she was waiting for someone or something, thinking maybe she ran into the kids (they’re not kids anymore, Steve kept having to remind himself) who were home for winter break without telling him. Not that he would mind, but who the hell was going to pay for them to eat?

Eventually, Robin’s name was called by the hostess and they were led through the full pizza parlor and sat at a comfortable round booth that was actually elevated and underneath a dimly lit light. Cassie hopped in first, crawling on all fours until she was sitting right in the center of the table with a grin on her face and head banging as she was still listening to music. 

“This is a pretty big booth for just three people,” Steve said, eying Robin as he tried to see if she’d take the bait and just tell him who she invited to join them.

“Oh yeah, totally too big for three people,” Robin said, agreeing with him as she shot him a grin and sat down. 

“Right…” 

Steve sat down as well, thanking the hostess for the menus. He turned his attention to Cassie now, and tapped her nose to capture her attention. She looked at him and he gestured to his own ears. Cassie understood, and turned to turn off her walkman, then removed her headphones. They rested around her neck, a look Cassie Harrington had all the time, especially these days. 

“Welcome back,” Steve teased her as he handed her a menu. Cassie took it from her dad, giving him a toothy grin as her head was still nodding to nonexistent music. Steve chuckled and passed a menu to Robin, and then looked down, seeing he was holding two more. 

Robin definitely invited somebody else. 

At that moment, Steve looked up at the door, as Robin and Cassie became engrossed in their menus and were verbally deciding what toppings they wanted on each pizza they were about to order. 

He was looking for perhaps a kid, like Dustin, or Lucas as Robin mentioned running into him specifically, hell he even looked for Eddie Munson (Steve had seen him show up in the Family Video Store after he seemed to have vanished for weeks), but his eyes landed on you . 

You weren’t looking at him, your attention on the hostess as you spoke to her. The hostess had looked down at her clipboard, then nodded, telling you something with a smile before she turned around and started to walk in the direction of the table they sat at. Just as you lifted your eyes, Steve turned to look at Robin, all of it adding up at once.

“You didn’t- how- how did you even meet her? ” Steve was questioning her. Robin looked up from her menu, confused at first and then she grinned sheepishly. Before she could even answer, you were at the table. 

Cassie had gasped at the sight of you, and called your name excitedly while Robin grinned and looked at you. 

“You made it! I was afraid you wouldn’t!” Robin said, “Steve scoot over, jeesh, you too Tiny.” 

“No! Wait! I want to sit next to her!” Cassie announced, of which Robin seemed very intrigued by and Cassie said, “Daddy, you sit on the side!” 

Steve stared at Cassie for such a demand, but who was he to deny his daughter’s requests? He looked at you, finally, and you were looking at Cassie with a sweet smile on your lips before you turned to look at Steve. He sucked in a soft breath before nodding and scooting off of the seat. 

“Wait, do you want…” Steve gestured to your outerwear when he stood and you blinked before realizing what he meant. 

“Yeah! God I hate wearing all these layers,” you said with a shake of your head as you unzipped your large jacket. You were shaking out of it and Steve was suddenly behind you, reaching out to take your jacket off for you like the gentleman he is. You thanked him softly as he did, and he flashed you a sweet grin before you were moving to sit in the booth. 

“I didn’t know Robin invited you!” Cassie said when you settled in next to her. 

“She invited me this morning,” you told her, looking over at her then at Steve as he settled down right next to you. Steve slid a menu to you as well and you took it, another soft thank you being thrown his way. 

“Yeah, I ran into her at the coffee place, insane right? I mean I heard her name, because obviously Steve told me all about you,” Robin said, gesturing to Steve who snapped his head to look at her, “Cassie too , don’t look at me like that. Anyway, she took my coffee by accident and then we talked and now she’s here.” 

Steve shook his head.

“Yeah, that’s what happened,” you said, your cheeks a little warm as you were still a bit afraid that you were unwelcomed despite Steve literally getting up and helping you get your jacket off, “It’s not a problem for anyone here, right?” 

Steve turned to look at you, and quickly shook his head, “Oh no , never. You know I like seeing you.” He suddenly realized what he’d just said and cleared his throat before turning away to cough into his hand in an attempt to take the attention off that . 

You just sat there, pressing your lips softly together at his words, before you looked back at Robin and said, “Sorry for being late though, my car has been acting up especially with this weather.” 

You frowned at the thought of your car barely starting this morning, and then when you were on your way here. It started eventually, yes , but felt pretty much dead before that. Robin told you it was fine, as they were barely sat anyway.

“Wait what’s going on with your car?” Steve questioned, becoming concerned at this information. You shrugged. 

“It’s…wonky, I don’t know,” you said lamely, “It takes a few tries to start, then when it’s on it feels like it’s on the edge of breaking down.” 

Steve was shaking his head at the idea of that, and said, “You know I can take a look at it after dinner if you want me to. I’ve gotten pretty good with cars these past few years.” 

Robin hummed, “Yeah, it’s really weird…like the moment he became a dad he gained all the traits of one like barbecuing and…falling asleep early on the couch or something.” 

That comment made you genuinely laugh, and Steve got a bit lost in your laugh even though it wasn’t him who made you laugh, but he quickly shook out of it and laughed sarcastically at Robin before returning his attention to you. 

“I’m serious though, I can look at it…also I fell asleep on the couch one time,” he said the last part to Robin who reminded him that it happened in the middle of their conversation the night prior before looking back down at the menu. You laughed again, then rested your hand on his shoulder, and replied, “I’d really appreciate that, Steve. Thanks.”

You both just gazed at each other for a long moment, before Cassie was tapping your arm, taking your attention off of him. Steve smiled to himself, then turned to look at his menu. 

“Guess what Robin got me for Christmas,” Cassie started with eagerly. You hummed in thought. 

“Beats me, Cass,” you said after a moment, and she smiled widely before announcing the skates. You dropped your jaw, “No way! You want to learn to skate then?”

Cassie nodded, “Yes! Can you teach me?”

You were more than obliged to teach her, which made Cassie even more happy. 

Steve looked up from his menu, staring at you while Cassie eagerly told you all about her skates, and he licked his lips gently, and Robin stifled a laugh. He looked at her now, giving her a pointed look, pretending that he was irritated with her when he wasn’t. If he was being honest, he liked this, he liked you being here sitting between him and Cassie, with his best friend sitting across from him. It was nice…comfortable even.

It’s like you just fit . 

And the heat spreading over him at this thought made his chest sting, happy because he liked you so much , but indifferent because he did . It made no sense, no sense at all, but this was no time to dwell on it, especially with you right next to him, your legs slightly touching and your pretty perfume invading his senses. 

Thankfully, the waiter arrived, taking an order of drinks, and your pizza. You all decided on two large pizzas, and when you ordered some strawberry lemonade, Cassie did the same, something that did not go unnoticed by Steve. She never drank lemonade, in fact every time they came here she got apple juice, and what he saw was Cassie bright eyes gazing at you. It made that feeling in Steve even more vibrant, that Cassie seemed to look up to you so much that she got skates because of you, listened to disco, and now ordered the same drink. 

It really hit Steve, at this moment, how much Cassie really liked you. She of course liked everyone else too, as she took a specific liking to Robin who was there in her infant and toddler days, and then took a liking to Dustin and especially Max. She had never actually tried to mimic them though, Max never inspired her to want to learn how to ride a skateboard and the interest in Dungeons and Dragons was all part of Dustin’s elaborate plan to get her to keep a high school club alive. 

You weren’t doing any of that, just simply existing and being such a good friend , that damned word again, that became a constant in his and Cassie’s life and she seemed to want to be just like you. 

Steve was a bit baffled at this, shocked into silence really as you and Robin were talking now. 

“Oh yeah, we went to high school together, right Steve? But we didn’t become friends until that one summer we were forced to work together at Scoops Ahoy,” Robin was saying, finally capturing Steve’s attention, “It was a summer for sure, your dad wasn’t the catch he is today.” 

Robin was talking to Cassie now, who looked over at her dad and asked, “Catch?”

“Oh, no girls liked him,” Robin said nonchalantly, which made Cassie frown.

“But he gets free ice cream?” 

“Right? Seems foolproof huh?” 

“Wait- are you seriously bringing that up? Come on Robin, you know it was a tough summer for me,” Steve said, grabbing his drink and sipping out of the straw. 

“Because now it’s a funny memory,” Robin replied with a shrug, and turned back to look at you, “Have you seen him yet? At Scoops Ahoy?” 

You cringed slightly, knowing it was time to fuss up that you had no idea what a ‘Scoops Ahoy’ was, and told her so. The table went quiet, as if Scoops Ahoy was a home name of Hawkins or something when really it was just between the three people at the table with you. 

“You’ve never been there?” Steve was asking you, making you look at him and shake your head, “So you’ve never visited Starcourt then?” 

You shook your head again, “I’ve been wanting to, but…I don’t know if my car will make it that far…”

Steve just stared at you, then nodded as if he was impressed that you’ve never visited the highly popular mall and Cassie was the one to tell you that it was an ice cream shop. She told you about all the free ice cream she gets sometimes.

“ Free ice cream? That sounds like a dream,” you told Cassie and she giggled and said that it wasn’t. Her dad could get free ice cream whenever he wanted essentially.

“Well I mean, I can get you free ice cream too if you want,” Steve said, turning to you, and Robin almost rolled her eyes because it was painfully obvious that Steve really liked you, and it was such a burden to know he did, but wasn’t going to actually do anything about it. 

“Oh really?” you questioned, resting your chin on your hand as you met his brown eyes.

“ Yeah , I think I’m pretty much a professional like I’ve mastered the USS Butterscotch ,” Steve said, making you furrow your brows in confusion at such a name, but assuming rightfully it was just some kind of sunday they served. 

Robin asked how you and Steve met, and he relayed to her how you were dying from allergies and did a late run to the market to get medication, and he just so happened to working that night, then you said you ran into him again at the video store, a job, Robin relayed to you that he’s been at that job for a while. It was Cassie who talked about the carrot situation in more detail, which made Robin laugh because it is something Cassie Harrington would do. 

She watched as you, Steve, and Cassie spoke, laughing together, and she had noticed herself how much Cassie had taken a liking to you as well. It was Steve mostly, though, she couldn’t recall the last time he was so interested in a woman like this. That other girl he was almost with didn’t even compare to how he was with you, and maybe…he was like that once with Cassie’s mom, very early in her pregnancy. 

He had been at her side almost twenty-four seven. Robin had liked her, as there wasn’t necessarily anything wrong with her, just that it was painfully obvious that she didn’t feel the same way toward Steve. Steve had known that, since he had told Robin this when she brought it up one night during a late shift at the Family Video Store. 

He was aware, yes, but they were going to have a baby together, he couldn’t help how he felt, how he always felt about her really as they were friends. But honestly, he had told her, he just wanted their child to have both parents, it didn’t matter to him whether he and she were together, as long as Cassie had her mom and had her dad who at the very least liked each other. Of course, they all know how that story came to an end…

It was something that clearly continued to plague her best friend’s mind, if their conversation from the night before meant anything. Steve liked you, he admitted that to Robin, which is a major step for the guy, and seeing you, seeing how you fell into place with him, with Cassie, something felt different, yet all the same. He wasn’t putting on some kind of show, because Robin knew if she invited the other girl he was with for a bit, he would’ve been actually irritated with her, he would’ve sat through it and been polite, but he wouldn’t have been happy. He seemed like…himself again…comfortable, and she liked seeing Steve like this again. She really did. 

And now, she felt like she owed it to him to knock some sense into him, like how he helped her out with Vickie all those years ago, who still remained her beloved and favorite person ever to this day. He would be crazy to at least not try , because he liked you, and sitting here, she can tell that you liked him too. 

The pizza had come, and the conversation turned to Steve and Robin now, and you sat there listening with amusement written on your features of the summer they became friends, about working at Scoops Ahoy, then at the Family Video Store, how he threw her a graduation party at his house that almost failed because someone forgot to bring cups (It was that guy Eddie again) until a girl by the name of Nancy Wheeler got fed up and left to get some. Steve even made her a cake apparently, or at least attempted to. It was something, Robin had said about that cake, surely something.

“You said you’ve never baked before,” you said to Steve upon hearing this information and he turned to you with a sheepish grin on his lips. 

“It’s one of the major reasons I don’t bake anymore,” Steve replied, making you laugh and say, “You bake now though.” 

“Thanks to you, I actually like it now, honestly…you know I still get compliments on those cookies…” Steve said, leaning back and subconsciously stretching and resting his arms on the rest right behind you.

Your heart sped up at this gesture, and you shifted in your spot. Steve stayed staring at you, a small grin on his lips that hadn’t left since all of you started talking. You settled back into place, with his arm technically wrapped around you and turned away, cheeks hot and your heart feeling like it was blooming. 

The check had come around, and Steve had reached into his pocket, and cursed softly.

“Damn…I think I left my wallet in the car,” he said with a cringe before he started to stand, “I’ll be right back.” 

“Wait!” Cassie called in between you and Robin, and Steve paused to look at his daughter, “Can I go?”

“Come on then,” Steve said, fully standing. You were about to move, but Cassie was diving underneath the table and crawling out from the other side. Steve just stared at her before he laughed and told her to put her jacket on. She did, and then he held his hand out for her to take. When their hands clasped together, they were walking toward the exit of the pizza parlor, leaving you and Robin. 

You had felt slightly bad, as you didn’t get to learn much about Robin herself. So, given it was just the two of you, you asked her about herself and Robin let out a breath. 

“I hate this question…” Robin said, fiddling with her rings as she laughed awkwardly. Before you could apologize, she shook her head and told you that she lived in New York with her girlfriend, Vickie, that she moved there with her when Cassie was around four years old, so around two years ago. She attends classes at a college there, and works at this department store. 

“Oh, so it’s like the reverse,” you suddenly stated, “I lived in the big city, moved to this small town- you lived in this small town and moved to the big city.” 

This made Robin laugh, “Hey, yeah, that’s true . It’s pretty insane, overstimulating, a lot of smog, too many people…I don’t hate it though.” 

You nodded, your childhood and adolescent days coming back to you at once, and you replied, “Yeah, a lot of people, but…I think that’s part of its charm.” 

“Oh for sure,” Robin replied, turning her head to see if Steve was coming back. He wasn’t and she commented, “I swear if he dined and dashed…” 

“Oh…oh he wouldn’t do that…would he?” 

“Nah,” Robin shook her head, “He always pays…guess that’s one of his charms, among many, I suppose.” 

She was looking at you again, and you leaned back in your spot, eyes lingering on the door, waiting to see him come back. 

“It’s still kind of weird to me,” Robin suddenly said thoughtfully, “I mean, if high school me heard me say that Steve Harrington was cool, and I was willingly having pizza dates with him and his daughter- she would be absolutely baffled .” 

You turned to her, a curious look in your gaze and she went on to say, “I’m pretty sure every high school had the same hierarchy, so you probably know what I’m talking about. Steve had thee title…basketball captain, swim captain, other other captain, I don’t know I was in band but…he was literally called King Steve.” 

“ King Steve? ” 

You’d never heard anything like that, at your high school there was one guy, the football captain, who dated all the cheerleaders and all that. You could actually picture Steve that way, the hot, popular jock all the girls fawned over…considering the unofficial Steve Harrington fanclub here made up of Hawkin’s Moms. 

“Oh my god, he’ll hate that I’m telling you this,” she said, chuckling to herself, “It doesn’t matter anymore though, because that was just you know- a facade. But yeah, I actually didn’t like him, like a lot- he knows this- but you know, underneath it all- he’s a good guy, probably always has been.”

You turned thoughtful, thinking of Steve in such a way. It had been mentioned before, when Heidi said she dated Steve once in high school and cried over him, or when Steve had told you during what you dared called a ‘lunch date’ in his car that one autumn afternoon that he got a lot of dates at 13. He didn’t seem to be getting them now, despite the attention he receives. 

“I’m just glad you got to know him now ,” Robin said nonchalantly, “He still has those charms, obviously I know you know the ones…” 

She eyed you and you couldn’t lie and say he didn’t. Steve was pretty irresistible, and that stupid charm of his that lingered in your mind for days on end after every interaction you’ve had with him since summer still made your stomach twist and heart flip.

“Yeah…” you said, albeit a bit breathlessly that made Robin laugh to herself. 

Steve was opening the door to the parlor, snowflakes decorating his hair and his jacket. Cassie looked the same, and she shook her head like a dog and held her dad’s hand tighter, happy about the warmth the parlor was providing.

The first thing Steve saw when he walked in was you and Robin. You were in conversation, and he watched as you smiled and laughed, and nodded and responded to his best friend in that round booth. You were enjoying it, talking to Robin, and he sucked in a tight breath, head a little foggy, and he was kind of… happy that it seemed Robin liked you. 

Cassie was saying something to him, pulling him out of trance, but he hadn’t heard what she said

“Hm?” he hummed curiously, looking down at his daughter now, seeing her gazing up at him with almost concern. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Steve paused, then laughed weakly as he tightened his grip affectionately on her hand and replied, “That’s the million dollar question, Cass…come on let’s go.”

He returned to the table, overhearing Robin say something about how she witnessed the aftermath of him accidentally renting out the wrong movie to a girl. Steve didn’t ask what she was talking about because he didn’t need to be reminded of that, and he was glad that you didn’t ask, just suppressing a laugh as he approached. 

“Are we ready to go?” 

You were all outside now, Cassie giving you a big hug good-bye before she was in between Robin and Steve, holding both of their hands, her hands were covered in these bright pink knitted mittens that were vibrant against their dark gloves. 

“I’ll get your number from Steve,” Robin had told you, to which you eagerly nodded. Steve wanted to say some kind of joke, maybe why are you stealing my new friend already? But he really loved that you and her got along that well. 

“Alright, let’s get you in the car, Tiny,” Robin said, saying a final good-bye to you before taking Cassie with her. Cassie waved at you as Robin led her to the car, and it was just you and Steve now.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you soon,” you said, standing albeit a little awkward beside him and Steve, well he looked even more awkward that even Robin cringed when she glanced over at him. 

“Yeah, I’ll call you,” he said, and you nodded, flashing him a grin before turning away. Suddenly, as Steve saw your car, he called your name, “Wait, I said I’d look at your car!” 

You stopped, looking at the car, then at him, then back at the car. 

“Let me see if it’ll start first,” you told him, not wanting to stand out in this cold further or make him stand out in this cold too. Steve followed after you regardless, standing by the car door as you settled in and put the key into its ignition. 

It started the first try, by some sort of miracle. 

“Oh, oh it’s working now,” you said with the shake of your head, embarrassed that your car made it seem like you were lying just to get Steve to look at it or something. 

“I could still look at it though,” Steve told you, leaning over the open door to look inside before glancing over at the hood, as if itching to get it opened. It made you less embarrassed and you nodded, agreeing that eventually he should, or you should get it over to the mechanics. 

With that, Steve said a sweet good-bye before lightly closing your car door for you. He even remained there, watching you go. He was also making sure the car didn’t suddenly break down once it hit the street. It didn’t, thankfully, and he finally went to his car where Robin and Cassie were waiting with the heater already on.

It was quiet, for the most part, Cassie had put her headphones on again, kicking her feet to the beat and gazing out the window with a sleepy look coming over her face. She was definitely going into a food coma.

Robin had suddenly turned in her spot in the passenger seat though to look at Steve. He could see her almost perfectly in peripherals. She was grinning at him almost slyly.

“What?” he asked, acting like he didn’t know why she was smiling like that. 

“I like her,” Robin stated. 

Warmth not from the heater washed over Steve when he heard that, and he swallowed thickly and played dumb, “You like who ?” 

Robin gave him a look, and replied, “I’m serious…you’re right when you say she is pretty amazing and I’m going to say this because I’m your best friend and I can…” 

Steve came to a stop light, and turned his head to look at Robin. 

“You would be a complete idiot if you don’t at least try and take a chance with her.”

There had been a small, amused smile on Steve’s lips, a happy one at that as well, when he heard that Robin liked you so much, but hearing this, Robin’s bluntness Steve’s smile turned into a frown and something cold came over him, like the cold breeze of the upcoming blizzard outside. 

He turned his head forward, just as the light turned green, and he started to drive through the intersection. 

Steve knows this, it’s been gnawing at him, sitting there next to you, seeing how well you fit in, how almost perfect you were to him, how perfect you’ve always been whenever he was around you. He hadn’t felt like this strongly for someone, the way the thought of you made your head buzz and insides turn delightfully, which would of course be followed by this sick, hollow feeling that he couldn’t quite describe, much like how he felt when he realized Cassie was trying to be like you in that pizza parlor. 

God, you preoccupy his mind so much, and there’s a voice in him that says ask her out, you idiot , and then another voice says just kiss her, for the love of god just kiss her . He’s felt that one on occasion, when that electricity sparked between the both of you, when your eyelashes fluttered gently at him, your lips waiting for his…

Then, there’s that other voice, the one that came out the night before when talking to Robin. You don’t have time…you know what happened the last time you tried…it’s not worth it…it’s not worth breaking her heart over . 

Most of the time, that voice was louder. 

Robin looked at her friend who was deep in thought, and reached over to pat his shoulder, “I’ll demote you back to dingus, I will.” 

That at least made Steve laugh, and he replied a little weakly, “Honestly…that’s only fair.”

✧ ✧ ✧

“Steve, I’ve only known her for like two days, if you count the day you finally told me about her.” 

Robin’s voice was coming through the phone. 

It was about a week after Christmas, and you had dropped by the market one night just before Steve’s shift ended to give him some gifts. You had finally made more mixtapes for Cassie, the bag full of them, and for Steve, you went simple and got him a Christmas card with an ice skating penguin wearing a red beanie on it with a gift card inside. It was quite a bit of money, and you insisted that he needn’t to get you anything in return. You didn’t really have anyone to buy gifts for, besides for Heidi and her family and a secret santa at the school, and wanted to do something nice.

Steve was touched, really touched, so much that the voice that kept telling him to kiss you had to be fought off with a mental broomstick. And now, he was kind of freaking out about it and had called Robin almost immediately during his break at the Family Video Store the next day. 

“It was just nice, alright, and I don’t want to get her something bad…god why am I freaking out about it though?” 

“Because you like her, dingus,” Robin teased from all the way in New York, she was on her break at her job too, “Get her like…I don’t know a mug or something, teacher’s love those. I actually love those.” 

“No…no she’s not a teacher, at least not yet,” Steve replied, pressing his hand against his face, feeling a bit ridiculous about how much he was overthinking this. 

“Get her one, speak it into the universe for her,” Robin suggested, then said like she read his thoughts, “You’re overthinking this Steve, and that’s a lot coming from me. I can’t just tell you what to buy, you know her way more than me.” 

He sighed into his hand, “What the hell am I doing…” 

“You’re a big guy, Steve, you’ll figure it out… oh hey…what about a candle?” 

She was very clearly looking at a candle someone walked by holding in the department store she worked at part-time. 

Another reason why Steve was freaking out was because he was going to see you very soon, like tonight soon and the store’s would be closing earlier than usual so that he’d have to go straight to Starcourt after his shift ends. 

He had invited you to the Wheeler’s annual New Years Eve party, yet another almost family thing he wanted you to attend because quite literally everyone in his life would be there, the kids (Not kids, anymore, Steve), Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers, Joyce Byers and Jim Hopper… everyone . 

Robin did offer some good, basic presents, a mug, a candle…but what else? He wanted to at least add his own touch to it. 

With a good-bye to Robin, he was back at work, still inside his head of what to get you when Heidi, who he has known since high school, approached him at the counter. 

“Just returning,” she told Steve, placing them down on the counter in front of him. Steve nodded, turning to the computer set up until his eyes rested on her name again. He remembered then that you had mentioned you were going to be spending Christmas with her and her family, which could only mean that she was your friend as well. 

Steve stopped typing for a good second, turning his head to look at Heidi who was poking around the new concession stand they had set up (it was Steve’s idea). She seemed particularly interested in the kettlecorn, and Steve cleared his throat as he said, “So…Heidi…how was your holiday last week?” 

She looked up at him, and replied, “It was great, how was your Christmas with Cassie?” 

“Oh great, we spent it with the Hendersons, like always…” he trailed off, unsure of how to smoothly mention you and then try to see if she can help out in any way for getting you a gift, “Who’d you spend it with?”

Heidi answered her own family, and he said, “Nobody else?” 

He wanted to kick himself for making it so obvious. He could literally see it in her eyes when it clicked he was trying to bring you up without actually saying it. Steve hadn’t talked to Heidi like this in a long time, not since high school and not since they dated for like a month or so, he talked to her at the office, yes, but he talked to everyone there. Mostly you these days, if he was being honest.

“Wait…” Heidi trailed off and then asked if he was talking about you. Steve chuckled, and nodded, deciding to just own it. It wasn’t weird, it wasn’t suspicious, he was just asking about his friend . At least that’s what he tried to convince himself to make the anxious, racing of heart stop.

“Yeah, yeah I mean her…you’re pretty good friends, huh?” 

Heidi leaned on the counter, an intrigued look crossing her features and she said, “Yes, I think so, though…I don’t think we’re good friends like you and her are…” 

Steve took the tapes Heidi returned, trying to nonchalantly work while talking to her.

“I doubt it,” Steve replied, because if he and you were such good friends why couldn’t he decide on what kind of gift to get you. Heidi chuckled. 

“Right,” she said, not buying it clearly, “Is there something you want to ask me about her?”

“Well…” Steve started, then cleared his throat before continuing to say, “I want to get her something for Christmas, a little late I know, but she got me and Cass something and I just want to return the favor.” 

Heidi rested her chin on her hand, “Do you not know what to get her?” 

“I just need some ideas,” Steve replied quickly, making her laugh. 

“Well, maybe we both are just as good as friends with her, I had trouble getting her something too,” Heidi replied honestly, and that did make Steve a little more relieved, “I got her perfume, and my kids made her a s’more set, she seemed to love it. You know…I think…anything simple, really. She’ll love anything, especially if it’s from you .”

Steve thought it was the same for him, as he displayed that penguin Christmas card on his nightstand like it was some love letter. Heidi looked a little excited by this information, like he just told her some secret. He’d forgotten this quality of her, and found it oddly comforting in a way that she still held this aspect of her.

He finished processing the return for her, and she asked him if that’s all he wanted to ask. He nodded to her, and grinned politely. 

“Yeah, yeah that’s it, thanks Heidi,” he said, and she grinned back at him and turned to leave. He supposed a candle and a mug it was…still he hated how cheap it felt. You deserved more than that, but it would have to do. 

He had about an hour more to brew up some more ideas anyway.

Meanwhile, Heidi had called you the moment she could. You were at home getting ready for the party tonight when the phone rang and you answered, this was as Steve was rushing to Starcourt after his shift ended, and Heidi relayed everything to you. 

“You said there was nothing going on, you liar, he’s getting you a gift,” Heidi said, and you sucked in a sharp breath. 

“Friends get each other gifts, you got me one, I got you one,” you said, trying to play it off even though it was quite obvious there was something more between you and Steve, something strong and unspoken, something ready to burst any moment now. 

“Yeah, but I’m not him , he likes you, and you like him,” Heidi practically beamed, “I knew you weren’t immune to Steve Harrington’s charm. I mean, his daughter visits you all the time when she can…you got him to bake cookies…you spent Thanksgiving with him…he practically shoves the faculty just to stand by you at mandatory assemblies…he likes you.” 

“He’s a good friend,” you replied, cheeks feeling a little hot. 

And just like what Robin was saying about Steve to him when she first came to Hawkins, or what Dustin Henderson had said to his girlfriend Suzie, Heidi had said, “I don’t think you realize how insane all of that is for Steve freaking Harrington. Okay, he’s been practically off the market since Cassie’s mom just up and left town.” 

You frowned, and reminded her how she told you her friend had dated him. 

“Okay, but barely , she broke it off because he was never around, he never made time for her, he definitely didn’t invite her to go to a Holiday dinner, and she met Cassie like maybe once , twice at the most and that was by accident,” Heidi explained quickly, and you were going to say something, but she was speaking again, “And here you are, coming in from the city and making him trip over himself. I’m impressed, I really am.” 

You tried to fight the feelings mustering up in your stomach, “It’s not…he’s my friend.” 

“I find it interesting how he was saying the same thing,” your friend commented. 

“Because we are just friends,” you tried to emphasize, but knowing already that no matter what you said, your friend wouldn’t believe you. At this point, you were trying to convince yourself it was all you and Steve were, all that you would ever be because then if it never happens, you couldn't be disappointed. 

You’d just learn to live with the feelings and bursts of warmths that occur at just the simple thought of him, at the idea of seeing him, if anything, you were already doing it. Steve was a friend, a good friend, and you didn’t want that to change. 

You didn’t tell Heidi any of this, feeling almost embarrassed by your outlook, plus, you didn’t want to admit to her that you did like him, a lot. She can continue speculating, and you can continue pretending she was wrong. 

“I have to go,” you had told her finally after a couple more exchanges, “I have a party to go to tonight.” 

“With Steve ?” 

You scoffed and told her a good-bye and a “Happy New Year.”

She was giggling, and told you the same before you hung up. You hoped there would be alcohol at this party, and had you any left of your favorite wine you had brought to Heidi’s Christmas Party last week, you would’ve definitely started drinking now. 

✧ ✧ ✧

Steve had always been convinced that the biggest New Years in Hawkins was the one Karen Wheeler threw every year. It was practically full, every room decorated with streamers, tinsel, party hats, appetizers on every available surface and an abundance of alcohol. 

Now, it wasn’t a crazy party, like the ones he used to attend in High School and go to school the next day with a hangover, but it was pretty big and exciting. Overwhelming too, and he had warned you about it too. 

You seemed comfortable among his friends, although he considered them more as family, even after Cassie had taken your hand when you first arrived and started introducing you to everyone as ‘Her daddy’s girlfriend.’

This horrified Steve, as when he told Karen and everyone that he was inviting you, he made sure to not make the same mistake of Thanksgiving where he didn’t tell Dustin or Claudia that you and him were just friends. 

You were amazing though, just laughing when Cassie announced you as his girlfriend to everyone present and said, “Well I am a girl, and I am his friend.” 

“Exactly!” Cassie replied, a toothy grin that made Steve become suspicious of his daughter’s intention with that comment, as she’s never said anything like that about you before. He couldn’t really dwell on it though, as Cassie was eventually dragged away by the kids (Not. Kids. Anymore. Steve), leaving the adults like him upstairs.

There were a lot of people here, Steve had warned you prior that there would be, but everytime his eyes would find you across the room, he’d find you smiling and talking to someone, though he noticed it was mostly Claudia, who was absolutely delighted to see you again. 

“So…she’s really just your friend , Steve?” 

Nancy Wheeler was suddenly beside Steve, a woman he hadn’t seen for longer than he’d seen Robin. Steve turned away from you, and looked at her. 

“What?” 

Nancy laughed, “Nevermind. How have you been? Robin told me you’re working at Scoops Ahoy again…” 

Steve grimaced, but should’ve figured Robin would tell her this. He spent the next few minutes catching up with his old friend (And high school girlfriend), Steve telling her that he read one of the stories she reported on in the paper a while ago that gained immense popularity, and so on. She had done a lot, and really all he had to report was that he was working three different jobs, and made one new friend, which was you. 

His drink was gone by the end of it, and he excused himself to go some more in the kitchen and decided before doing so he should go down to the basement to see what Cassie was up to as it was going to be close to midnight and she might fall asleep. He walked down the steps of the basement, already hearing loud cursing that irked him. The ambience of the basement was suddenly not very Steve Approved. 

They were playing a Dungeons and Dragons campaign, Cassie included , sitting in between Max and Lucas as Mike Wheeler spoke dramatically, leaving everyone, including Cassie, on the edge of their seats. Well, except Max. She was giving Mike an unamused look. 

“Shit, I knew we shouldn’t have done that,” Dustin cursed when Mike came to the conclusion of his overdramatics, and Steve scoffed loudly. 

“Hey, hey, there’s a child present,” Steve told them, resting his hands on his waist. All of them looked over at Steve, and it was Max who said, “Well now there is, you just walked in..” 

There were cackles from everyone and Steve shook his head, unamused with that comment even though he felt like he walked right into it. 

“Yeah, yeah just watch your language. I don’t want my daughter cursing like a sailor,” Steve replied and they all sighed, a chorus of begrudging apologies and eyerolls being thrown his way. 

“What are you doing down here, anyway? Wouldn’t you rather be with your girlfriend?” Mike asked, leaning back in his seat and giving Steve a look. 

“Seeing if my kid’s alright, and she’s not -” Steve sucked in a breath, not wanting to waste it on telling everyone that again as the way they all looked at him told him they weren’t going to believe him otherwise. 

“She’s the same girl from the video store, right?” Max suddenly asked, making Steve pause for a moment and she added before he could respond, “The girl’s whose number you couldn’t get.”

“What?” Steve asked. 

“She was at the video store,” Max repeated, “Come on, you remember. Lucas, you were there too.” 

Lucas looked confused and Max scoffed at him.

It had taken Steve a moment before he remembered what Max was talking about, how in the summer one of the first times you met was in the video store and Max had interacted with you for even a few seconds. 

“Yes, it’s the same girl,” Steve told her, and Max snapped her fingers and gave a pointed look to Dustin, “I told you it was her.” 

“How was I supposed to know that? I wasn’t even there , I was just relaying the information of Steve’s new girlfriend,” Dustin said, before Lucas was suddenly nodding. 

“Oh, oh I remember her now,” he said, then looked at Steve, “Wait, if she’s his girlfriend then that means he did get her number.” 

“I thought it was pretty much established that he didn’t,” Max replied to her boyfriend. Steve watched as the short back and forth ensued, Cassie looking in between the two everytime one talked, and his expression became bemused as Max ended with, “He didn’t get her number.” 

She was right, he didn’t, but why he was offended by that he had no clue, because from what he remembers- he didn’t even ask for your number that day, in fact it wasn’t until a few weeks after he did (he was NOT going to tell them that though)…soon the conversation turned toward you though in the span of a few seconds. 

“I like her, she seems nice,” El had said, and Will had agreed with his sister. 

“She’s also cool, remember when I told you guys she’s interested in learning to play Dungeons and Dragons, so already better than Steve,” Dustin said, and all of them full-heartedly agreed. Steve knew it was just meant to tease him, so he didn’t take that to heart that much. 

“Right, well, I was just checking on Cass, so watch your language and please don’t make my daughter think I’m lame with your comments,” Steve said, pointing at all of them, and it was almost majestic how all of them snorted one after the other for that comment. He scowled, and was about to turn before Cassie called out to him. 

She was getting out of her seat, and then standing in front of him as she asked, “When are you going to give her our gift?”

Steve blinked for a moment before answering, “We can do it now, go get her and I’ll go grab it from the car.” He was already digging into his pockets for his keys, but Cassie was stopping him. 

“I’m playing!” she declared, “You give her it.” 

Steve furrowed his brows at his daughter and asked, “Wait, so you don’t want to watch her open the gift we got her?”

His daughter was shaking her head, but Steve felt like he saw something in her eyes, something mischievous and all in all suspicious . 

“I think I’m getting sleepy too,” Cassie said, then yawned dramatically after. Steve squinted his eyes at her, wondering why she was acting so strangely.

“Just give her the gift yourself Steve, jeesh,” Mike called, anxious to get back to the campaign and spend as much time as possible on it before the clock struck 12. Steve gave him a look before looking back at Cassie who was giving him a very sleepy smile. Sighing, he nodded and said if she’s that tired then she should lay down before he kissed her head and turned to go back upstairs. 

Cassie watched her dad go, before she turned and eagerly skipped back in her chair between Max and Lucas. 

“What are you up to, Cassie?” Max asked suspiciously, and the little girl could only laugh.

Steve had left the house, grabbing the gift from the backseat and came back in to find you. You were in the living room, sitting on the couch beside Nancy and having a conversation when Steve was suddenly placing his hand on your shoulder to capture your attention. 

You hummed as you looked up at him, cheeks a little warm from the alcohol you’ve consumed since you arrived at this party and smiling sweetly at the sight of his soft stare. 

“Come with me,” Steve told you, and you nodded, turning to tell Nancy you’d be right back. Nancy held her drink up to her lips as she said, “It’s almost midnight, don’t be away long you guys.” 

You chuckled as you stood up, taking your cup with you as you followed Steve into the kitchen. You stopped in front of the island at the center, and turned to ask Steve if everything was alright only to be met with a bright red bag being held in front of your face. 

You blinked softly, your mind moving a little slow that it was indeed a gift for you. The gift that Heidi had told you he was getting you. 

“Oh you didn’t have to…” you said, gazing at the bag. Steve shook his head. 

“No, I wanted to…Cass threw something in there too for you, by the way, I think it was a huge candy cane and a pencil, sorry to spoil the surprise.” 

You chuckled at that, taking the bag from Steve and twisting around so you could place it on the counter. Steve moved to the other side of the counter, leaning on it with both forearms as he watched with his brown eyes you start to take out the red tissue paper. 

The candy cane showed up first, and it was pretty big, the middle of it wrapped with a big red bow with a tag that said from Cassie in all caps. You smiled warmly, setting it aside gently before digging more into the gift. You didn’t find a pencil, but you did find a bag of carrots tied with the same red ribbon as the candy cane.

You laughed loudly, before your other hand covered your mouth and you tried to contain that laugh especially when you looked up and saw Steve’s face. He was completely dumbfounded staring at the carrots. 

“What the…when the hell did she put those in there?” He asked, bewildered by the reveal, “She said she put a pencil in there!” He pointed at them, before he turned his head toward the entryway to the basement, where he knew Cassie still was, knowing that if she was here she’d be laughing just like you were. Maybe that was why she was acting so weird…she threw carrots in there without telling him. 

You held the bag of carrots to your chest and said, “ I love them. Don’t know what’s going to beat these to be honest, but we’ll see.” You shook the bag lightly, feeling that it was pretty heavy, and something clinked together in there.

Steve turned back to you, horrified by what you just did and you shook it again lightly to freak him out some more before setting the carrots down and digging deeper into the bag. Your hand wrapped around something, and you knew what it was before you even brought it out. 

It was a bottle of wine. 

“ Oh .”

You looked at it closely, already feeling your mouth water just a little and you said suspiciously, “How did you know I was out?” He laughed at that, leaning away to push his hair out of his face nervously before leaning back down.

“I remember you bought that like weeks ago,” Steve told you quickly, “Then you bought it again before Christmas…I assumed it would be gone.”

You grinned widely, and set it down. You really can’t believe he remembered that. 

“There’s more in there, like two more things. Robin helped me figure out what else to get you.” 

“Then I know it’ll be good ,” you teased, making his sweet smile turn into an amused one. You took out the next thing. It was a candle, a three-wick one to be precise and you gasped loudly, tearing off the tin lid and bringing it up to your nose. 

You welcomed the sweet, vanilla scent of it, and sighed loudly. Steve was staring at you expectantly, eyes a little concerned as if he was afraid you weren’t going to like it. 

“You like it? Because I like this candle too, a lot, I’ve gone through like three of them and I thought you’d like it too,” Steve told you, and you smelled it again. 

“Are you kidding? It smells so good,” you replied, still holding the candle up to your face, “It’s so sweet, thank you.” 

You inhaled it again, before setting that aside too. Steve continued to watch with anticipation as you finally pulled the last item out. It was wrapped in paper, so you meticulously removed it before you realized it was a mug that said ‘ World’s Best Teacher.’ A little cheesy, but incredibly sweet as he said, “I know you’re not a teacher yet, but hey…when you are , you have the mug to prove it.” 

You just stared at the mug, your cheeks hurting from how much you’d been smiling and you lifted your eyes to meet him as you thanked him, “Thank you Steve…and Cassie too wherever she is.” 

You set the mug down beside the other gifts, feeling slightly overwhelmed (and a little shameful as all you got Steve was a card and giftcard). You relayed this to him and he laughed softly at you. 

“I literally displayed that card,” Steve said, before his cheeks turned red with embarrassment that he’d just said that, and he coughed into his hand before asking, “So you liked them?”

You nodded, “Yes, although…I think the carrots were my favorite,” you said jokingly. Steve scoffed at you, though the smug grin on his lips showed that he knew it was just a joke, especially as he watched you gaze almost lovingly at the three things he chose for you. 

You loved the gifts, you loved the candle, the wine…the mug …you loved…

You paused your thoughts, as they were about to say you loved him . It was silly…ridiculous even…to say you loved him. You could lie to yourself and say the love you felt for him was platonic, but you knew it was a lie. You fell in love with Steve Harrington. 

He was still looking at you, still leaning on his forearms on the island across from you, brown eyes soft and warm. Your heart just bloomed in your chest, and butterflies just erupted in your stomach, and then…you were leaning in without thinking. 

Steve went still when he felt your lips against his, having not been expecting it, not at all. You were kissing him, literally kissing him. His mind short circuited and he couldn’t keep up with it, that when you pulled away he almost thought it didn’t happen if not for the tingle left on his lips by yours. 

“I…”

Your voice was breathless, and your eyes horrified as you realized what you had just done. You stepped back, pressing your lips, that were surely tingling like Steve’s were, together and you said, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

Steve’s mind caught up with him in an instant, and he stood up straight, not wanting you to go all of a sudden. 

“Wait…” he told you, stepping out from behind the counter and moving toward you. His body was engulfed in warmth, mind with disbelief really at what just happened, and he stood in front of you, looking at you almost tenderly. 

You stared back at him, still embarrassed, body a little rigid and tense and he opened his mouth to say something more, anything, and he seemed to be stuck on what he wanted to say, eyebrows furrowing and a frown overcoming his lips before he dropped his head slightly and said, “Don’t be sorry.”

Your own eyebrows furrowed at this, cheeks heating up somehow even more , not understanding what he meant. Suddenly, you felt his hand on your cheek, his touch electrifying, and then his hand was underneath your chin, making you tilt your head upward.

Your breath hitched, not being able to take your eyes off of him. His own brown gaze had flickered downward, resting on yours lips, the lips that were just on his and then…his eyes met yours and he was leaning in again. 

You held your breath.

Then, just as you felt his lips just barely graze yours, the sound of somebody running up the stairs ripped you and Steve out of this moment. He was stepping away from you quickly, and you backed up too, your back hitting the wall just as the door was flung open and Max, Lucas, and Dustin were there wearing their New Years Party hats with a noisemaker in each of their mouths. Dustin had two in his mouth though, weirdly. 

“It’s almost time for the ball to drop,” Dustin stated, voice muffled as he shifted to the side to let Mike, El, and Will walk by the both of them, stalking toward the living room. Cassie was behind them, wearing a party hat and holding another in her hand, which she held out to you. 

“Let’s go!” she said eagerly. You couldn’t really deny her, just standing almost motionlessly as Cassie took your hand and began to pull you. You cast one last look at Steve, who was just standing there with an unreadable expression on his features. 

It was Lucas who stood there silently, looking between both you and Steve, seeing whatever it was that Max and Dustin (and understandably Cassie) seemed to not be seeing at this moment, unless they were just ignoring it. He crossed his arms and hummed quietly to himself. 

Cassie managed to pull you away then, smiling cheekily as she dragged you toward the living room where everyone would be gathered when they ring in the New Year. Steve watched Cassie take you away, expression turning almost sad .

“Hello? Earth to Steve?” Dustin said, then blew the noisemakers, making Steve jump and give him a look. 

“I heard you, Henderson, jeesh,” Steve said, turning so he could place all your gifts back into the bag. They watched him do so, Lucas with a now knowing look in his eyes and Max with a raised brow. Steve walked to the living room without looking at any of them. 

They watched him go and Lucas said, “They definitely just made out or something.” 

“Well, why wouldn’t they? They’re dating,” Max replied, walking away first. Lucas huffed and followed after her while Dustin stared at the empty kitchen, knowing that Steve and you weren’t actually dating and just playing along with the joke. 

He shook his head and said, “ Seriously ?” to himself.

✧ ✧ ✧

It was almost two weeks into the New Year, and with Cassie starting school up again, Steve dove himself into work. He did this because it was the only thing that kept him from thinking about New Years, from thinking about you . 

And it was hard work because now that he knew how your lips felt against his, he couldn’t stop thinking about you, every crevice of his mind was overtaken by you. You consumed him completely, and if it took focusing on making ten USS butterscotches, rewinding tapes all night, or restocking a bunch of ravioli cans to get him back to a more stable state of mind, that’s what he was going to have to do. 

In the meantime, you had been doing the same. One of the assistant teachers had been out for a while for the afterschool program at Hawkins Elementary, and you offered to fill in. It was easy enough to distract you, as you were doing what you loved and wanted to do for a living, but the moment you were left with your thoughts it was just of Steve and you felt confused, a bit ashamed, and incredibly heated, as when you closed your eyes you could still see the way he looked at you, and feel his large hand on your chin, so close to leaning in and kissing you again. 

Your heart fluttered in your chest at the memory, and heat pooled in your stomach. 

Then, the shame would settle in cruelly, because now it felt like you couldn’t be around the guy, too embarrassed, and fearful that he didn’t want to be around you. You felt sick at the thought of that. 

Until the day Cassie came to see you. 

The conversation had been brief, considering it was at the school library, and it ended with her asking you to join her and her dad ice skating.

“I…I’m not sure, Cass,” you said, voice soft as you were still in the library. She was holding a stack of paperback books, and was shaking her head.

“But you have to, it’s going to close, and you said you could teach me to skate,” Cassie declared, making you sigh at the little girl. 

“ Roller skate,” you replied, and she shrugged then paused before she batted her eyelashes at you and said, “My daddy wants you there, he said we can go only if you go.” 

You stared at Cassie, watching as she said ‘ pleaseeeee’ before sticking her bottom lip out to really sell the puppy dog look she was giving you. You weren’t sure if she was telling you the truth about that, as Steve would’ve called you, but you also didn’t want to say no to Cassie. 

She had made that expression to you before, when she was practically begging you to help her and Steve bake, and you didn’t have Steve to scold her. You knew then that you were for sure going to join them ice skating, and your stomach twisted at the mere thought of seeing Steve. 

What the hell were you going to say to him? You felt like puking, the anxiety was too much, but Cassie had got you to agree to it. Saturday, tomorrow , at Scoops Ahoy in Starcourt (As the skating rink was set up in their parking lot). She had skipped away with a smile on her lips, probably happy knowing she got her way. 

✧ ✧ ✧

It wasn’t a busy day at Scoops Ahoy, as it usually goes in the Winter. There were quite a few people who enjoyed a nice scoop of ice cream or a sundae on even a day as cold as this one, which was probably the coldest day of the season. Still, even with those types of people it wasn’t busy, so Steve was able to easily hold down the fort on his own until his shift ended.

He mainly stayed in the back, doing extra work in counting the inventory of the freezer. He made sure, too, to stay close to the window, so he could hear if any customers approached the counter.

Eventually, the bell did ring, taking his focus away from the numbers on the clipboard he was currently looking over. He didn’t look up, wanting to finish what he was doing first, so instead he called, “Be with you in a moment!” His voice muffled as he had a pen between his lips.

He pulled the pen off of its cap, and it remained between his lips as he quickly jotted something down beside the vanilla ice cream portion. When he finished, he suddenly felt compelled to look up. When he did, he almost spit the cap out on the floor. 

It was the person who had been plaguing his every thought when it wasn’t focused on a task, the person whose lips had touched his if even for a second. It was you , and he had to blink a few times, wondering if he’d become so overworked that he hallucinated you. 

When you smiled sweetly at him, and waved a gloved hand at him, he knew for sure you were real. 

He’d never seen you here before, never , and he suddenly felt, for the first time since high school, very self-conscious in his silly uniform. Thank god he decided to go without the sailor hat today. He very quickly started to move, setting the clipboard aside and taking the cap out of his mouth before he smiled back at you and scrambled to the door that led back to behind the counter. 

“Hey!” Steve said, his voice a little higher than usual, especially when he saw you did a quick glance at the uniform, and he quickly asked, “What- what are you doing here?” 

At his question you lifted your eyes at him and tilted your head as you replied, “I uh…Cassie told me to come. I don’t see her anywhere though?” 

You turned away from Steve, as if not wanting to make eye contact with him as you gestured around the parlor, which made his heart tear, but not when he realized what you had just said. Cassie told you to come?

“Wait- she told you to come here? Right now?” he asked. You nodded, finally looking at him. 

“Yeah, she said something about going ice skating with you both? And well, she conned me into agreeing,” you said, then laughed lamely at your own joke. Steve didn’t laugh, not because he didn’t find it funny, in fact he liked when you laughed at your own remarks, but because…Cassie wasn’t here , and they never discussed going ice skating. Well they did, but the answer was no . 

“If you don’t want me to join because- well- I mean- you know - I can go, I really don’t mind,” you were starting to say, but Steve was suddenly resting his hands on his waist and shook his head.

“No! Well…I mean…I think she conned both of us,” he replied incredulously, “We’re not…she’s not even here - I won’t even see her until tomorrow because she’s at a sleepover.”

This had visibly taken you off guard, your eyebrows that were once furrowed were not raising before you opened your mouth and let out a breath. 

“She is?” you asked, “When was that planned?” 

“Earlier this week,” Steve replied, shaking his head in disbelief. What was Cassie thinking? Creating a fake plan and making you come all the way down here? He was genuinely confused by her strange behavior. Immediately, he started to apologize for her, “I’m so sorry, I don’t know why she would even do that. I mean, I know she wants to go ice skating really bad, but- I didn’t think she’d make something up in order to go ice skating, but, she’s not even here -” 

“No, no it’s okay, maybe I misheard her,” you said, though you were sure you didn’t, but decided to convince yourself that you did. You rather ended up laughing, finding a bit of amusement in the situation. Steve listened to your laugh, the awkward feeling he dreaded when he would see you again was replaced with a familiar warmth.

He laughed too, finally. 

“I know you said it’s okay, but yeah I’m sorry,” he said after laughing, and you nodded. 

“Well…since I’m here I can’t help but recall…” you trailed off, and Steve’s stomach twisted pleasantly, thinking you were going to bring up that New Years kiss, but you lifted your eyes away from him and looked at the menu before finishing with, “...that you said you’d make me a…what was it? A USS Butterscotch ?” 

Steve tilted his head, then laughed breathlessly as he remembered he did technically say he’d treat you to some free ice cream that night. Your eyes averted back to his, and he reached to grab his scooper from his uniform and flipped it expertly as he said, “Coming right up…and maybe, if you want , just to get Cassie back…we could go ice skating and make sure to tell her all about it.” 

The thought made you giggle, imagining his daughter’s face realizing her whatever little trick she had planned backfired and that they still went ice skating without her. 

Soon you were sitting at a booth, Steve sitting across from you and pushing the well-made sundae toward you, then he slid over a spoon as well. 

“I think this is the best one I’ve made,” he admitted to you, though his leg was still bouncing underneath the table, nervous for some reason that you’d hate it. He felt ridiculous because it was ice cream and he’s never met anyone who hated it, especially if it was free and as beautiful as the sundae he just made for you. 

“I like the cones as sails,” you commented, leaning down to admire the piece of art he’d made in an Ice Cream parlor, “It’s cute .”

“ Cute , yeah it is,” he said, though he wasn’t looking at the sundae and you noticed it. You smiled, your heart pacing in your chest before you took the plastic spoon from him, grazing your fingers with his in the process. That was an accident, but a happy one as Steve sucked in a tight breath as he watched you scoop some onto your spoon, taking a cherry one one of the scoops with it. 

It was good, really good, so much that you went for a second spoonful immediately and Steve grinned, “Enjoying it?” 

“This is delicious, damn, I bet it tastes even better in the summer,” you said before taking another spoonful, “Also, I didn’t say , but I love the uniform.” 

You meant it too, the sailor costume suited him somehow, and you thought the shorts looked pretty good on him too. You did feel bad, just a bit, that he had to wear shorts during the winter though. 

His cheeks turned red, and it made you chuckle into your spoon, “Hard to believe no girls liked you when you first worked here, honestly, I think I would’ve been in here everyday to see King Steve serve ice cream.” 

“Believe me, I would’ve had a much better time if you were in here all the time back then,” Steve replied, “You’d probably skate in on your disco roller skates or something, because more than likely you would’ve worked at the old skating rink.”

“ Old skating rink?” you asked, and he nodded and told you that there had been a skating rink where the mall’s arcade is now, but there was a fire a few years back and they never brought it back. You hummed with interest as you ate more of the ice cream. 

“Yeah, they had these uniforms too, not as ridiculous as this ,” he said, patting himself on the chest, “But it was vibrant, and I think they had to wear glow sticks , and then they’d be playing disco music constantly, you would’ve loved it.” 

“Was…” you suddenly paused, the question you were about to ask feeling like one that would overstep a boundary. Steve tilted his head curiously at you, and you shook your head as you averted your attention back to the ice cream. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” you replied quickly, “Just a dumb question I don’t need the answer to.”

“Well, now I gotta know, come on…just ask,” Steve said, feeling his heart starting to blossom in his chest. He wondered if you were going to ask about New Years, even though it would seem quite random in the conversation. 

You set the spoon into the sundae, and said, “I was just going to ask if…Cassie’s mom was one of those girls.” 

Steve paused, not expecting that out of all questions. It’s never come up in conversation with the both of you, but it wasn’t all surprising after a second of contemplation. She had been looming over him lately. He shifted in his spot, and inhaled before he said, “Nah. She actually knew me before …we were actually friends …but…yeah it’s a long story. It uh…we actually worked at the video store together after me and Robin got fired from Scoops and well..yeah you know…I guess it does say something that we didn’t get together when I worked here.”

You were relieved he had replied. He leaned back in the booth, a troubled look coming over his features as if he didn’t know what else to say, and you cleared your throat as you ate another scoop then set the spoon down. 

“Sorry for asking, it isn’t my place,” you said, cheeks turning warm and feeling stupid, but he quickly shook his head. 

“No, no , it’s alright,” he said, “I mean Cassie had a mom, obviously, she’s just not here and I can’t be mad at you for being curious.” 

You smiled tightly, and he reached up to smooth his hair back before he exhaled softly and said, sensing you weren’t convinced it was okay, “Seriously. It’s okay. I can even tell you more actually, if you want. She…she was my friend once, then we weren’t friends for a while because she skipped town, then one day she came back and we were friends again and uh…then well… a year later Cassie was born and she left again .” 

He was purposely not telling you specifics, and you weren’t going to press him, still feeling like you were overstepping even though he assured you that you weren’t. You took the spoon again, messing with the ice cream and tearing your eyes away from him as you said, “I’m sorry.” 

Steve shook his head again, then waved his hand for added effect, “You don’t have to be sorry about anything…you know…like on New Years.” 

At the mention of it, you froze, having thought that him not mentioning it meant there was silent agreement to not bring it up and just forget it. You were doing so well not being so awkward. You looked up at him, seeing his cheeks were a little pink before he leaned both hands on the table between you and shot you a sweet grin, and he said, “We were both a little tipsy.” 

For some reason, that made your heart drop and you realized you maybe thought he was going to declare his love for you or something. Not wanting to show it on your face, you were quick to take another scoop of ice cream and stick the spoonful in your mouth before you forced yourself to laugh.

Steve’s eyes flickered your expression without you noticing, a frown flashing over his lips before he too forced a laugh out. Then, both of you were saved by the bell. He turned his head, seeing a family standing by the counter and his eyes flashed to the clock. This would for sure be his last customer before clocking out, before you both go ice skating to spite his trickster of a daughter. 

Meanwhile, as he excused himself, you made it your goal to finish the sundae as a distraction from the conflicted feelings that were stirring inside of you. 

15 minutes had passed then, and before you knew it Steve was emerging from the backroom in a dark red sweatshirt and loose dark gray sweatpants while holding his winter coat in one arm. He certainly looked like someone who was expecting to go straight home after work, because after all it wasn’t planned and you told him that you didn’t have to ice skate if he’d rather go home. 

“No way. I’m not gonna let Cass do this to us without consequences,” he said as he shrugged on his coat, then helped you put yours back on like it was second nature. You didn’t even notice as you put your arms through the sleeves and he pat your shoulders down. 

“We could always just say we went ice skating,” you said, and Steve shook his head. 

“No, we’re doing this for real,” he said, determined to go ice skating even if it was starting to snow outside again, because after all the ice skating rink was set up in the parking lot of Starcourt. Couples, families, groups of teens already with their rental skates on skating in a circle by the time you were out there with Steve, holding your respective rental skates.

After getting the skates on, you placed your beanie on your head, and then your gloves while Steve pulled random gloves from his coat pocket and placed them on his hands as well. You wondered if he was warm enough as you observed him, eyes flickering over the snowflakes that decorated the strands of his brunette hair. 

You were a bit jealous of them, then felt ridiculous for being jealous of a damn snowflake. You scowled at your silly thoughts as you stood up, balancing on the skates with ease and Steve lifted his head at you then did the same. Although, he wasn’t as elegant as you. Immediately his arms spread out, and his legs twisted awkwardly. 

“Oh shit ,” he said, desperately trying to balance on the blades and you could only stand there staring at him, amusement replacing your self-embarrassment. 

“Are you good?” you asked, and after a moment he managed to keep still and without looking up from the ground he replied, “Totally. I’m totally good. Don’t worry about me.” 

You furrowed your brows before you said, “Have you ice skated before Steve?” 

“ Yeah ,” he said, trying to step toward you confidently but then cursing when his foot bent slightly. You caught his hands this time, laughing softly, “I’m just not, you know, good at it.”

“I find that hard to believe,” you said, letting his hands grip yours tightly as he found his balance again. You weren’t even on the ice yet. At your words, Steve lifted his head to meet your eyes, and your faces were in such close proximity that his cheeks grew warm. 

“What do you mean?” he asked. 

“Just Robin went on about how you were good at everything in high school,” you teased, starting to step backward toward the ice. Steve grasped your hands tighter, and replied with a nervous laugh, “Everyone has their weakness. I wasn’t a hockey player, I was a basketball, baseball, tennis, badminton…” he trailed off purposely with other sports that had nothing to do with ice skating, making you giggle. 

“Are you sure you want to do this then? Like I said we could always just say we went ice skating,” you said as you were right at the ice. Steve nodded confidently. 

“I mean, I already got the skates on, and then I have a skater to help me so…” 

“Well, I am better at roller skating…but if we both fall and get hurt at least we’ll have evidence we went ice skating,” you said, half-joking as you yourself were a bit nervous. You were for sure more of a roller skater than an ice skater, but it seemed like Steve didn’t know the difference. A skater was good at all kinds of skating to him. 

“God the last thing I need is to get injured,” he said, hands still clasped tightly around yours, “ Oh my god .” 

You were on the ice now, gliding backwards and pulling Steve with you. His legs spread out, he nearly fell onto you as you laughed. 

“Should we have brought Cassie’s elbow and knee pads for you?” You teased again, and he laughed sarcastically.

“Ha. Ha. Very funny,” he said then panicked when he almost slipped, and would’ve fallen had you not been holding onto him, “Yup, yup this was a bad idea,” he told you, eyes wide and cheeks even more red from embarrassment and the cold weather. 

You shook your head and said, “We’re already here! Come on, let’s at least skate one lap.” 

From afar there was a shout, then laughter and you both turned your heads to see someone had fallen and their friends were laughing at them. They flipped them off before moving to stand, and Steve grimaced, already imagining that to be him . 

“Here,” you removed one hand from his, and his eyes grew even wider, believing for a second you were going to do what some parents do when teaching their kids how to swim, just throwing them into the water so their survival instincts kick in (except you were going to leave him, a grown man, on a sheet of ice wearing knives for shoes), but you kept a firm hold on one hand, “Just focus on staying balanced, and if you think you’re going to fall…well let me go so I don’t go down either .” 

Steve glided away from you, but found a nice balance by just holding your hand. Truth be told, he was starting to get an idea, as it really wasn’t his first time ice skating. Just after the first time he vowed never to do it again, yet, here he was with the woman he couldn’t stop thinking about even before that tipsy (though you both knew you were anything but tipsy that night) willingly ice skating. 

“ One lap ,” Steve told you, and you squeezed his hand. 

“One lap,” you repeated, then grinned as you glided forward, Steve’s wobbling legs struggling to follow suit. 

From an outsider's perspective, you and Steve appeared to be a couple on some sort of date, and since there were people there who recognized the pair to be you and Steve, such as Holly Wheeler with her friends, and a few faculty members of Hawkins Elementary, it seemed to them that it was a date. That you and Steve, as they all suspected, were together romantically. 

Your laughs could be heard by them as you passed by, and whenever you were looking forward, Steve would be looking at you with adoration in brown eyes, blinking only to get the snowflakes off of his thick lashes because he didn’t want to have any other reason to take his eyes off of you. 

He was clearly, so desperately, in love with you from the eyes of others, clear to everyone but the two people it should be clear to. As far as you both knew (or convinced yourselves really), you were just friends who decided to skate together in the beginning of the final snow storm of the season, as the wind picked up and the snowfall became more frequent. 

You had skated more than one lap, your hands not leaving each other even once as you shared this moment together, and you would’ve gone for more had the rink decided not to close early. Both of you were disappointed, hating that the fun was over so soon, hating that you’d have to leave each other again, all so you both can go home and lay in your respective beds with warmth bursting in your stomachs at the thought of the other. You would both look at the phones, thinking if you should call the other, if the other would pick up right away because these feelings were killing them too. 

It seemed though that the night wouldn’t end that way, as Steve had walked you to your car like the gentleman he was, and it didn’t start . You were practically shivering as you attempted to start it again, twisting the key in the ignition and getting nothing. 

“Well damn ,” you said with a scowl, and a chatter of your teeth as Steve furrowed his eyebrows before he cursed himself. 

“I said I’d look at your car and I never did,” he said, finding a way to blame himself for your predicament, but you were quick to brush it off. 

“No it’s my fault, I had plenty of chances to get it looked at and I just…never did,” you laughed, feeling foolish, “It would break down in the middle of a snow storm though.” 

Steve laughed too, though it was more of a pity laugh before he said he’d be more than happy to take you home, promising that there’d be working heat in his car. You didn’t have to be asked twice, letting him lead you toward his familiar car. 

✧ ✧ ✧

The blizzard had gotten worse by the time Steve pulled up to your house, pulling the car into your empty driveway carefully with a hyperfocus driver’s in the snow should have. His lights were barely able to capture your garage door, stepping on the breaks as he did. Your seatbelt locked, and you bounced forward slightly as he quickly apologized. 

“It’s so bad out there, god,” you commented, not blaming him for almost crashing into your garage. You also silently thought to yourself it was just as well that your car broke down and Steve had to take you home. You probably would’ve never made it here had you had to drive alone from Starcourt. 

“ Yeah ,” Steve agreed, looking through the windshield as the wipers worked overtime to get the snow off, “I hope I can get home in this.” He shook his head with discontentment, and you blinked, an idea popping in your mind. 

“You don’t have to…we can put your car in the garage, and you can stay until it dies down a little?” you suggested innocently. Steve looked at you now, looking quite touched by your invitation and you offered a small smile. 

“Would it be okay to ask for something hot? Like coffee?” he asked you, and you chuckled. 

“You read my mind.”

It’s how you found yourself in your kitchen with Steve Harrington for the second time, except this time neither of you were covered in various baking ingredients. You were in front of your french coffee press, the thick scent of coffee beans filling the atmosphere. Steve was rubbing his hands together, desperate to feel some kind of heat as your heater was barely kicking on.

The wind blew outside, causing the boards of your windows to knock together loudly and then your house to shake momentarily as well. Steve looked around, and then blew into his hands as he said, “You mind if I take the couch? I doubt this is going to go down anytime soon.” 

You glanced at him, the idea of him sleeping over making your heart leap of your chest, as you felt the last thing you needed was the man you desperately wanted romantically, but couldn’t have to be sleeping under the same roof as you. You wouldn’t be able to sleep, but who would you be to refuse a friend , especially in a storm like this. 

You poured coffee into one of the mugs you had taken out of the cupboard, clearing your throat as you said, “No, I don’t mind, I’ll get some extra blankets and pillows after this…I actually wonder if Cassie is okay.” 

“Oh I know she’s loving this,” Steve replied, noticing you were pouring coffee into a mug and staring at the steaming mug with anticipation, “She’s probably only upset she’s not home because when blizzards like this happen I usually make her hot chocolate and we sit in the kitchen just listening to it or in the living room staring out the window. Weather like this intrigues her.” 

You smiled, and said, “That’s good. I’d be scared to death at her age, honestly.”

You held the mug out for Steve and he gladly took it, inhaling deeply and practically moaning. You laughed at that, cheeks becoming inflamed as you put creamer into your coffee to sweeten it up. Steve did the same. 

“Yeah, me too,” he replied to your prior statement, “I actually used to think the house was going to blow away and we’d end up halfway across the country.” 

“Honestly, at this rate, I wouldn’t be surprised,” you said just as another sharp gust of wind passed and gave a violent shake to the house. Steve looked around again, looking nervous now that it may be true, but the number of blizzards he went through in his childhood alone was enough evidence to know that it simply wasn’t possible. It was one of the main reasons he made sure Cassie wouldn’t have to endure a bad storm or blizzard like this alone.

Steve took a sip of his coffee then, not caring that it was still too hot to drink, and just wanting to feel some kind of warmth as it seemed your heater was struggling to fight against the cold. It should’ve been the first sign that something was going to happen. 

You leaned into your counter, holding your own mug with both hands and breathing in the steam deeply and closing your eyes.

“This is kind of nice, actually,” you admitted as you took a sip as well, listening to the harsh winds and Steve agreed.

“Thanks for letting me stay, by the way,” he told you, “I thought maybe I’d be pushing it by asking.”

You shook your head, as your concern wasn’t with him overstepping any kind of boundary. 

“Don’t. I mean, we’re friends, Steve,” you willed yourself to say into your coffee.

Steve averted his eyes to yours, seeing you were looking mindlessly at nothing, and he pressed his lips together before breathlessly saying, “ Yeah , friends.”

You both silently drank your coffee, enjoying its warmth and enjoying the way it eased the sudden awkwardness between the two of you. It was a perfect distraction, for the time being, until you both wanted more.

As you poured a second round of coffee into his mug, Steve cleared his throat and said, “ Great coffee.” 

You thanked him cheekily, and Steve dragged the mug closer to him, keeping his gaze on you as you poured more into your own mug. He didn’t know what to say, unsure, but there was a sudden hard gust of wind, and then it sounded like something crashed . You both had jumped, you were thankfully not holding the coffee, and before either of you could question what just happened, you were suddenly engulfed in darkness. 

“God, the lights went out!” you called, hands grasping your kitchen counter as you navigated in the darkness. Steve noticed you sounded further into the kitchen, and blinked his eyes a few times trying to adjust to the sudden darkness. 

“Got any flashlights?” Steve asked you, speaking the direction of a drawer being opened and rummaged through. 

“In the garage,” you told him, and then he saw a small flicker of light. You were holding an ignited match, and then, you were lighting a candle to at least give some light for your venture to the garage.

You approached Steve then, holding the lit up candle in your hand and Steve was immediately met with the familiar vanilla scented candle he had in his own house, the same candle he had gifted you on New Years. 

“Hey…I know this candle,” Steve said, and you chuckled softly as you replied, “ Yeah , huh, it’s like you knew we’d need this.” 

Steve inhaled deeply, loving the smell and you did the same, and said, “I love it so much.” 

Your face was illuminated by the candlelight, casting a pretty glow on your features and Steve had to release a breath, a breath of which almost blew the candle out. This made you laugh and lean away from him to make sure he didn’t and told him to follow you. 

You and him had gone into your garage, you picking out the flashlights that Steve turned on so you more light than the candle. It was the harsh cold in there that made you both realize that if the power was out, then you wouldn’t have your heater . 

“We’re going to freeze,” you said in a dreadful tone, already feeling a chill coming over you. Steve was holding your only working flashlight, and shined it around your living room as he said something about body warmth , before he paused and said, “We can light a fire? Have any wood?” 

You promptly looked over his body warmth comment, since he seemed to do so, and you paused as you remembered that in early December Heidi’s husband had given you a bunch of firewood because he had cut too many. You had planned to use it, but never found the time to actually start a fire, so it simply sat in your garage. You relayed this to Steve, and he seemed more than happy to go and get them. 

“We should bring all the blankets and pillows you have out here so we can sit on the floor,” Steve told you, and you nodded, turning to go grab those while Steve busied himself with starting a fire. You had decided, as well, that you were going to light various candles, or at least the ones you could find. 

You placed them on a few surfaces located in your living room, and just as you set down the last one, a fire was ignited in your fireplace and Steve was leaning over it, rubbing his hands in front of the growing flames and nodding as if proud of himself that you weren’t going to freeze to death, not on his watch. 

The sight made you smile, thankful that Steve was here and thankful that you never used the firewood. He turned then, looking around the dimly lit living room as he noticed there were more candles and you watched his brown eyes flicker all over the room until they finally found you. 

“Ah, there you are, come on, it’s warmer right here,” Steve told you, and you set down the candle and obliged. You fell to the ground next to him, not before grabbing one of your blankets, and sighed at the heat that emitted from the well lit fire. 

“Better?” he asked you and nodded. 

“ Yeah ,” you said, holding your hands out to the flame and Steve gave a nod as he said, “Good.” 

After getting a bit warm, Steve suddenly laughed and said, “Got any more of that wine I got you? Could help warm us up a bit more.” 

You were quick to stand, loving that idea, and Steve seemed surprised that you in fact did have the wine. You took the flashlight, and he listened to a bit of rustling in the kitchen and the sound of a cabinet being opened and closed followed by the sound of glasses clinking. 

As you were setting everything on the counter, there was another gust of wind that shook the house violently, and you almost dropped one of the glasses. You looked around, then shook your head and wondered as you grabbed the wine if you had a battery operated stereo. 

You did, actually, and thought Steve might appreciate something playing over the harsh sound of the blizzard going on outside…even if it was just disco music. 

It actually amused Steve, as he poked at the growing fire, and then started to busy himself with setting up the blankets and pillows you had thrown on the floor more comfortably, when he suddenly heard music from behind him. 

“So we don’t have to listen to this blizzard threatening to blow my house across the country,” you said with a giggle as you walk toward him, already feeling the warmth of the crackling fire. Steve grinned, and told you it was a good idea and you settled onto the floor beside him, holding out a wine glass to him. 

“Is this the same one I got you on New Years, or is it a whole new one?” Steve asked you as he took the wine from you, determined to be the one to pour it like the gentleman he was. 

“It’s the same one,” you said, holding out your own glass and watching him pour the dark liquid in it, “I didn’t have time to drink it…and if I did, we would’ve even had any because I wouldn’t have had time to get another anyway…” 

“Well, thank goodness for a busy schedule,” Steve joked as he finished pouring some into his own glass and he lifted it toward you, “Cheers.” 

You clink your glass with his with a soft laugh before you settled into the nest of pillows and blankets and begin sipping your wine. The house warmed up gradually, or at least in the living room where you sat, and the wine, even after a couple of sips, was doing its job as well. You felt a warm heat settle in you caused by the alcohol, and was growing more content with the situation you found yourself in with Steve. 

Plus, the fire was pleasant to just stare at him, the wood crackling and embers glowing. 

After another minute of silence, Steve turned to you and said almost jokingly, “So…I’m gonna be here for a while. Plenty of time for us to exchange our life story, actually.”

He laughed softly after and so did you, but then another silence fell before the both of you.

As Steve sat there, thinking about how to follow up with that, he suddenly thought of your question from earlier in Scoops Ahoy, and while he really didn’t mind you asking, he did wonder why you asked anyway. So, he brought it up again and that dread crossed your face was apparent. 

He thought it was cute though, seeing you distressed about it when you didn’t need to be and said, “I just wanna know. Did someone say anything because this town talks.”

You turned to him, leaning your elbow on the couch you were leaning on and told him that Heidi had brought it up, which didn’t surprise him.

“I was just curious,” you said lamely, “We were talking about you, and then it just came up about her leaving or something.”

Steve was about to sip his wine but stopped midway, ears almost perking like a dog’s reaction to the sound of a crinkling bag when he heard you and Heidi were talking about him. 

“You were talking about me?” He asked, adding a teasing element to his voice. You looked at him, and scoffed slightly, seeing him grin slyly at you even in the dim lighting from the fire.

You were going to lie to him, say that he was brought up in conversation because of Cassie or some school event, but something suddenly compelled you to tell the truth of the contents of the conversation before the New Year’s party, before you kissed him and he almost kissed you again. You brought your wine up to your lips, downing most of it in order to muster up whatever courage you could.

Steve was already holding the wine bottle out in order to refill your glass. You held it out to him as you spoke.

“Well, she was just saying that you’ve never spent so much time with another woman since Cassie’s mom,” you said, keeping your eyes on Steve to observe his reaction, “She seems to think that it’s because you like me…”

Saying it outloud had you inwardly cringing, as you felt like a teenager again trying to tell her crush that she likes him and hopes he likes her too. These feelings had a way of bringing that out, so much that you just kept talking.

“I keep telling her we’re just friends though,” you added quickly when he was done pouring wine, “But you probably know how she is…” 

As you continued to talk, finding excuses for what you’d just said, Steve could only watch you, drinking his own glass of wine, slightly amused by your rambling. 

“But that’s a lie because she did tell me that you had seen someone else, I don’t know her name but-”

“Brenda?” Steve said, and the sound of him speaking and you froze, realizing you had started to ramble and immediately shrunk in your spot as you forced yourself to meet his eyes and shrugged weakly. He sipped the rest of his wine, then went to pour more in his own glass, “God, this town probably knows more about my life than I do.” 

He laughed weakly, and you sighed. 

“I don’t purposely go around asking about you, by the way, I like to learn whatever it is about you with you, like now,” you said nervously, and Steve half-smiled at that. 

“Even if you did, I can't blame you, I don’t really talk about that part of my life because…well I’m more concerned with Cassie,” he said, then coughed slightly, “But uh- what else did she tell you?” 

You blinked softly, then said, half-lying to yourself, “For the record I don’t take her words to heart…but she said that…well you never did things with Brenda that you do with me.” 

Steve was very quickly reminded by Robin’s words the first night was back in Hawkins for a visit. She was right, Steve thought, Steve doesn’t just let people in his life. He doesn’t just invite anyone to Thanksgiving, and now New Years , go apple-picking with anyone who isn’t his daughter, and or suggest going ice skating when he knew he wasn’t very good at it. He doesn’t do these things, not since…well Robin had brought that up too . 

“It’s silly, I try not to think too much about it because-” 

“She’s right,” Steve suddenly said, and stared at the flames of the fire for a moment before he continued to say, “I didn’t do any of that with her…I haven’t done a lot of things with anyone since Cassie’s mom…until now that is.” 

It was a big step for him to even say anything, feeling slightly nervous, and you tilted your head gently. He pressed his lips together before chuckling breathlessly, hating that the thought of her mom in this context still bugged him so bad. 

But he did say you both would have time to share each other’s life stories, even though it was jokingly. He sipped his wine again, then licked his lips nervously before he said, “I was just not comfortable letting anyone into Cassie’s life, and she had told me she understood and would be okay with it…but I guess she changed her mind and forgot to let me know.” 

“So it just didn’t work out,” you said, and he nodded. 

“Yeah, and it made feel terrible, and stupid honestly, but…Cassie’s my number one priority, and always will be…after what happened with her mom…I have a hard time with you know, romance ,” he laughed bitterly at the end of his sentence, and it made you frown as you could tell it wasn’t out of amusement. 

“Did you love her?” 

It seemed only natural to the conversation for you to ask.

“Did I love Brenda? No,” he said, then felt bad how easily he said it, “God that sounds so bad...it just wasn’t really a loss like Cassie’s mom had been. Only disappointing.”

You pressed your lips together gently, then said, “So you loved Cassie’s mom.”

Steve paused. He never really thought of her in that aspect anymore, as he struggled to admit he had any romantic feelings toward her because of the frustration of her just leaving Cassie. But he did love her, he couldn’t change that…

“We were never… together though, always just friends, and when she came back to Hawkins a year after we graduated and worked together at the Video Store…we decided to hook up. It was one night, and then…she was pregnant,” Steve told this without warning really, but you were intrigued by the story you wouldn’t admit that you wanted to hear. You’d rather it from him, then anyone else to know what happened. 

“So… yeah I did love her, at least after, I mean, she was pregnant with our child you know? Totally unplanned, and I wasn’t about to just leave her, so I stayed and then I fell in love…but I guess I was the only one...to fall in love and to stay.”

He downed the rest of his coffee, and you took a sip of yours. 

“That’s… a lot ,” you said truthfully, not knowing what else to even say. Steve nodded. 

“Yeah, yeah you’re telling me,” he said, placing his mug down for the last time, “What about you? Have any tragic love stories?” He was attempting to lighten the mood after his short rant, and you could only shake your head. 

“Like that one? No , I’ve never had the time,” you said, which was something Steve could relate to, “I was really into my studies, always to myself, I barely even had friends …then you know, my dad got sick, so I stopped my life to be with him at the end of his...and now here I am.” 

You gestured around the room, and Steve shook his head as if he were in disbelief, “Really? Is it just me, the single dad in the room, who has a tragic love story?”

You laughed and shrugged, and he said, “Yeah…it’s rough , but…at least I have Cassie…and well… you .” 

He was taking a risk saying that to you, knowing he meant more than just as a friend. You found yourself smiling weakly at that, the heat of the room and alcohol intermixing with the normal warmth Steve always made you feel.

You sipped your wine slowly then, and you asked him if he could tell you what happened with Cassie’s mom. Steve looked torn by the question, eyes falling to the wine as he swirled it nervously and let out a breath. 

“I still don’t know the answer to that,” Steve said bitterly, then shook his head, “For a while, we just co-parented you know, then one day she dropped Cassie off and just…never came back.”

You looked saddened by his words, and Steve took another long sip of his wine, finishing his second glass. You grabbed the bottle, pouring some more in your glass before holding it out for Steve. He held his glass out, thanking you quietly. He hated talking about this, but maybe it was time he did. 

“Did you ever find her?” 

Steve shook his head, laughing bitterly at that. 

“Nope, and I tried. I really did, but…she just vanished off the face of earth.” 

You kept your gaze on the side of Steve’s face, even as you sipped your wine. You could barely see him in the dim lighting of the fire that was still ablaze in your fireplace beside the both of you. Steve sighed, rotating his wine glass again before he started to speak again.

“I was so fucking mad,” he admitted,  “Not because I had to take care of Cassie myself, no I could handle that, I was practically doing it already, it was just…you know… Cassie . She didn’t understand that her mom just left her.”

The memories of those days that followed flooded through his mind, memories that still made Steve mad. Cassie was so young, too young, and he remembered how every morning she would sit in the living room by the window just waiting for her mom to show up. He kept looking for her during those days, calling around, even actively going out , but her trailer was practically abandoned, everything left behind but all her clothes, the same suitcase she used when she stayed with Steve and his parents during the last month of her pregnancy, and her car. She just dropped Cassie off and left, and it was planned. 

He didn’t realize his fists were clenching, and his body was becoming tense. You did though, frowning softly as you reached over to touch his shoulder. Steve turned his head a bit, feeling your touch bringing him back to reality. 

“I remember her just waiting by the window for her to just show up, then just watching her give up …” he continued, now looking at you, “And…to be honest, I’m so fucking scared what that is going to do to her. Right now she is okay, she is happy , but what happens when she gets older and when she asks me what happened to mom? And I have to tell her that her own mom abandoned her? And it’s suddenly a concept she fully grasps? What the hell am I going to do?”

He was asking you, even though he knew it wasn’t fair to. Cassie wasn’t your responsibility, but as the months turn into years the question has just been gnawing at him everytime he looked at his little girl, remembering her little face of defeat when she started to realize her mom wasn’t going to come back to her. When she stopped sitting by that window.

It broke his heart, and he wished somehow that he could’ve shielded her from it all. 

“It’s…not really the same thing, but…” 

You actually speaking made Steve’s eyes flicker back to yours. 

“I mean, I was also the daughter of a single dad, as you know,” you started, “My mom passed away when I had barely turned 5. Her funeral is one of the first things I remember, but even then it’s a little fuzzy. I barely remember her actually or even how she looked aside from a few pictures we had, but my dad never put any of them up again when we moved. She didn’t abandon me, not like Cassie’s mom, but as a kid who barely understood death it kind of felt like it.” 

You shifted in your spot, eyes looking at the fire now and it was Steve’s turn to stare at you. 

“My dad was always gone too, always working, and I never really had a constant person beside him in my life and even then, he wasn’t really constant. He had to work, you know, keep him and his daughter fed. We had our special moments though,” you smiled to yourself, though it was sad he worked so much you still cherished when you’d go out to a burger joint sometimes, when he saved up to buy you your first pair of roller skates, almost enough to make you overlook the years you spent by yourself. 

“There were some, like my fifth grade teacher I mentioned, you probably don’t even remember,” you laughed, but Steve shook his head.

“No I do, you brought her up when we were baking,” Steve said, and you felt a bit flushed that he remembered something as small as that, but promptly blamed it on the alcohol sloshing through you and making you warmer than usual. 

“Yeah, she was there for a bit, but then we moved- for the last time thankfully- to the city where there was more work for him,” you continued, “And…I was alone again. I did fun stuff, it’s where I was first introduced to disco…” You lifted your hand, gesturing to the boombox that had been playing the occasional 70s disco hit in the background of your conversation.

Steve smiled at that, disco suddenly taking a place in his heart in a way he never expected it to. 

“But I was alone , and a lot of the time I resented my mom, my dad too because at times it felt like they both left me,” you said, “I didn’t have anybody but myself, and…it certainly affects me even to this day.” 

You took a break to take a sip of your wine, in fact, you were chugging it and Steve just watched you. Despite Steve getting to know you, he knew what you meant. Every snippet of your life, from how you reacted to dinner with the Henderson’s in November, he could see how it does, and he understands it too in a way. It was easy to feel like your own isolated island. 

You set your glass down after downing it and turned to Steve, “Anyway, my point is, I was alone, you know? And Cassie…well it’s going to happen, she’s going to wonder why her mom left her and it will hurt, but…she’s not going to be alone. She has so much support from Robin, Dustin, Claudia, those abundance of kids who absolutely adore her, she just has so much love , but more importantly…she has a great dad.” 

Steve’s heart swelled in his chest by your words, so much that he felt like he was feeling it in his throat. He swallowed thickly, cheeks becoming flushed. You smiled at him, eyes looking quite foggy from the amount of wine you’ve both consumed.  

“I know I’ve barely got here, but…Steve, you’re such a good guy,” you were saying now, expression turning serious, “I can see why everyone is so obsessed with you here, and it’s not just because of your good looks…that’s just an added bonus. You’re a good guy.” 

He smiled at that, and you sighed softly, turning your body toward Steve and reached with the hand that wasn’t holding your wine glass to gently grasp the back of his head. Steve was a little disoriented by this, but his vision cleared when he saw you were at eye level with him. He grew still, just staring back at you breathlessly.

“Cassie is going to be okay because she has you .” 

It felt like something clicked into place when you uttered those words to Steve. He opened his lips, wanting to say something, but not knowing what. His mind picked up on the music that was playing, the soft, funky beat of the Bee Gees “How Deep is Your Love” flowed through the boombox’s speakers, traveling through the room and reaching Steve. 

He was gazing back at you, the fire illuminating half of your face and intensifying your gaze. It was warm in here now, from the fire, the wine, from you . His breath hitched, feeling that electricity again, except it was stronger, more intense and Steve couldn’t ignore it any longer. 

Then you come to me in a summer breeze…keep me warm in your love, then you softly leave…

“I wish I met you sooner,” he suddenly said, and you gently nipped your bottom lip and said, “Me too.”

Perhaps it was the wine he was drunk off of, or perhaps it was you he’s become drunk off of - it didn’t matter. He parted his lips, gently licking them before his eyes flickered down to your lips. He couldn’t take it anymore, and when he met your gaze again, and saw the tender way you were looking at him, he couldn’t stop himself, not like he could at Thanksgiving, not like he could everytime after that. He wanted to kiss you, he needed to.

He started to lean in slowly, up until his nose gently nudged yours. You did not stop him, in fact, you were guiding him toward you, inviting him to kiss you. He let out a hot breath, realizing that you wanted this too, even though it was silly to think for a moment that you didn’t, and he closed the space in between your lips like you had done in the Wheeler’s kitchen, laying his mouth on yours softly and sweetly. 

Your lips fell together in a tender kiss, and your hand on Steve’s head drew him closer to you. You dropped the empty wine glass you held, landing safely onto the pillows and blankets still gathered around you, and he felt this hand rest on his cheek.

You were warm, so very warm , and his head became dizzy and he too had dropped his wine glass. Except his glass still had wine in it. The glass tipped to the side, its contents spilling and staining one of the pillows and the carpet that peaked out between the pillows it had fallen on. 

Neither of you noticed, and if you did, you wouldn’t have cared anyway. 

His hands were on your waist now, pulling you toward him without parting his lips from yours, and you let him lead you to wherever he wanted you to go. Soon, you were straddling him, your legs sitting on either side of his and you finally pulled away. 

“ Steve ,” you said his name, voice breathless and tainted with wine just like Steve’s was. His hands rested on the expand of your thighs, brown eyes shining as he looked up at you. 

“Is this okay?” he asked you, voice low and an octave lower, “I can stop…we can stop.” 

You moved your hands to his hair, leaning forward to press your forehead against his, being able to see him better than he can see you. The light of the fire behind you now, the only light being from the small candles placed on various parts of your home, but he could feel your face against his, and he could feel you nod .

Like your lips were a magnet, he was kissing you again, combining your breath together as he consumed your lips with his with an intensity that had you falling against him and letting his kiss lure you into a state of mind that was just him . 

He kissed you, and he kept kissing you, tongue sliding between your wet, parted lips and licking into your mouth softly and almost sloppily. His hands started to move on their own accord, one upward toward the small of your back, lifting your shirt ever so slightly.

Your hands had started to wander too, without you realizing it. They were now flat against his chest, feeling the fast beating of his heart against your palm, and the other moved downward, gently grazing his ribs. 

He shuddered against you, eyes flickering open and lips parting from yours. He realized too that his hand had wandered, feeling the heat of your skin against his own hand, and he looked up at you, eyes questioning. You sucked in a soft breath, leaning away from Steve. 

“Sorry,” he said, referring to his hand that was moving up your shirt. You sighed deeply. 

Steve’s eyes had fallen, but when they did they caught the sudden movement of your hands. You were grabbing onto the hem of your shirt, and he snapped his head upward. No words escaped his mouth as he watched you remove your shirt and told him the same thing he told you on New Years… ‘ don’t be.’

“ Fuck ,” Steve said, wishing his eyes would adjust better, and he heard you laugh quietly, as if someone will hear you both, and you grabbed his hands, making them move to your abdomen. 

“Are you okay with this?” you asked him this time, perhaps a little too late, but you weren’t really thinking. 

“How could I not be? You’re so god damn beautiful,” he told you, and you melted into his lap when he did. He chuckled sweetly at you, then leaned up to kiss you again before his hands started to move against you, and he said again, breathlessly, “ God damn …” 

He sounded nervous as he then bit down on his lower lip, feeling your skin tremble underneath his touch. Goosebumps followed where his hands started to move, just over your sides and then upwards until he was touching your breasts. 

You hummed when he did, back arching slightly and he licked his lips, eyes moving from your breasts back up to you. He leaned in, pressing gentle kisses onto the skin of your neck, your collarbone, and lower to the mounds of your breast. 

You threw your head back softly, mouth falling open as the sensation of him kissing you where you were most sensitive. His brown eyes stayed drawn on you, and he drew his lips away to kiss back up your neck and just underneath your chin. 

His hands followed, now on the back of your hair as he brought you forward to crash your lips together in a more fervent kiss, more desperate, and hot. His tongue swirled in your mouth, colliding with yours as he drank you up second by second. 

His arms then were wrapped around you, feeling the slight tremble of your legs and before you knew it, he was leaning away and making you lay down. You fell against the soft blankets beneath you, arms falling over your head and Steve had taken his shirt off as well before he settled on his side next to you. 

His eyes were dark, you could tell that much by the light of the flames, and you reached your hand forward, falling into the temptation to touch his chest that was full of hair. He released a breath through his nose at your touch, smiling as he was amused. It had been a while since he’d been with anyone intimately like this, and when he felt your hand massaging his chest, he remembered how past partners had done the same. It felt sweeter coming from you though, and he placed his hand over yours and leaned in to press a chaste kiss onto your lips before moving your hand away to place a kiss against that to, then place it back over your head. 

He had other ideas, anyway. 

“Is this what you want?” he asked, voice almost a whisper. 

“Is this what you want?” you asked him back, voice a little shaky. He wasn’t ashamed to reply yes , and you stared at him for a long second before nodding, saying yes, me too . 

He smiled softly, eyes drawing over your face and down your body before he brought his hand upward, stopping at your lips. You kissed the fingers there before parting your lips for him, tremors rushing down your body as he pressed his fingers inside of your mouth…

He didn’t ask you again, and neither did you…not when his fingers were buried deep inside of you, making you come undone, not when the rest of your clothes came off, when you kissed each other all over…especially not when you were underneath him, his hips thrusting at a languid, sensual pace, his length pumping in and out of you.

The fire was dying beside you, but you didn’t need it anymore. You and Steve were keeping each other warm. 

You were caged in underneath him, seeing nothing but Steve gazing lovingly at you from above. His chest hair rubbed against your own chest, creating a delicious friction with every thrust of his hips that filled you up. 

Your hand dragged across his back, your nails scratching his shoulder blades, making pleasurable chills run up and down his back. His mouth was hovering just above yours, parted and releasing soft grunts and pants that intertwined with your own. Then, he was leaning down, lips only grazing yours as his tongue touched yours as his hips moved faster. He grunted, moving away as he did so.

Your back arched upwards, breasts pressing against his chest tightly and moaned his name out softly. He looked back down at you, smiling almost lazily. He pressed his lips against your cheek, before resting his head on your forehead, keeping his brown, hazy eyes open and on you. 

You tensed up underneath him, heart thumping out of your chest and lips releasing a cracked moan of his name as pleasurable heat washed over you for the second time that night. Steve kissed you, riding you through it, and whispered sweet nothing against your lips as he too came undone.

✧ ✧ ✧

It was warm when you woke up, your body cocooned in the thick covers you brought in the living room the night before. You were immediately met with an ache that buzzed over your entire body, but it was not unwelcome. It was a reminder of what just happened the night before, of the night you spent with Steve. 

Your eyes fluttered open then, adjusting as you stared up at the ceiling of your living room. Heat encompassed over you at the thought of last night, at the thought of Steve, and you looked next to you, expecting to see him, wanting to see him, but the space next to you was empty. You frowned then, starting to sit up when you heard movement in your kitchen. 

You sat up completely, turning your head and peering into the kitchen, only to see that man you were expecting to see laying in the pile of blankets next to you standing in front of your stove, his hair sticking it various directions and only wearing his boxers and an apron. 

It was a sight that took your breath away, especially when you could make out the marks that were left on his neck by you .

Then, you smelled the killer breakfast he was making. Eggs, bacon…was he making pancakes ? That made your stomach suddenly growl, and as if Steve had heard that, he was turning his head and meeting your eyes. 

“Good morning,” Steve called to you, his lips pulled upward in a sweet smile. A smile was brought to your face, cheeks feeling even warmer as he said, “Hungry?” 

You started to move to stand, tearing your eyes from Steve as you searched for an article of clothing to put on, only for your eyes to land on the stain left on your carpet. 

“Oh…oh damn ,” you said, “When did that happen?” 

Steve placed the bacon he’d just finished cooking onto a plate when he turned to see what you were talking about, and instantly he cringed when he saw you staring at the wine stain. His memory of the night wasn’t that hazy, but he could not recall how the spill even happened. It was a little lighter though, considering he spent a good 20 minutes after waking up trying to clean it. 

“I really tried to clean it,” Steve told you, wiping his hands with a paper towel. 

You could only laugh, turning and looking up at Steve as he came into the living room.

“It must’ve happened…well… yeah ,” you said, purposely not saying when you guys started kissing, and you turned your head to see Steve holding your sweater out to you, a smile on lips, and cheeks dusted pink. 

“ Yeah , I figured,” he said, understanding what you meant. You thanked him quietly as you took the sweater and he turned away, back toward the kitchen as he told you that he hoped you didn’t mind him making a big breakfast like this. 

You put your sweater on, then found your undergarments and placed those on too. The hem of your sweater stopped just below your thighs, and you finally moved to stand as you said, “No, no I don’t mind at all…”

Steve was holding two plates now, flashing you another sweet grin before setting them down on the small dining room table you had in the kitchen. You noticed even coffee was made, steam rising from the mug and as you got closer, you noticed that he had even prepared it the way you did. He must’ve watched you make yours the night before…

You sat down in the chair, right in front of the plate and coffee and when you saw the fluffy pancakes, you sighed with delight, “God, I fucking love pancakes…” You took the syrup from the middle of the table.

Steve laughed at this, taking the seat across from you. He had discarded the apron, choosing to just be shirtless which you mildly appreciated as the pancakes had consumed your hungry self entirely. 

“I remembered you told me that,” he told you as he took the syrup you were holding out for him. You paused as you sliced a part of the pancake with your fork, and glanced at him. He was looking at you, still smiling, and he said, “Go on and taste it. I wasn’t lying when I said I make good pancakes.” 

You did as told, Steve watching you intently for a reaction, and you hummed, and nodded as you chewed. They were the fluffiest, perhaps most perfect pancakes you’ve ever had. Steve had not been lying that day in the grocery store back in Fall, and had you already not been in love with the guy, this would’ve been the dealbreaker. 

“It’s delicious ,” you said finally, but you didn’t need to tell Steve that. He was already smirking smugly as he said, “I know” before taking a bite of his own pancake. 

You ate the rest of your breakfast pretty quickly, as it seemed your previous nightly activity drained all of your energy and finally, as you both washed the dishes, you asked him if the blizzard cleared out. 

“Yes,” he replied, then quickly added, “Streets aren’t clear still…so I think I’m gonna have to stick around for a bit longer.” 

Steve was looking at you a certain way, brown eyes telling you something he didn’t dare want to say out loud. Your heart flipped in your chest, then warmth that would turn into heat flooded you all over. Neither of you had said anything upfront about your night together, like you were avoiding it, but he wanted to stay …and without checking if he was lying about the streets not being cleared yet, you were more than happy to let him stay.

You spent the rest of the morning in your bedroom, tangled into the sheets with Steve. There were no excuses now, as the wine could’ve been blamed for the night prior. The only thing that was making your mind hazy was Steve himself, and the feeling of his hair between your fingertips as your back arched and you moaned his name…

✧ ✧ ✧

Steve was staring at the ceiling of your bedroom, one arm wrapped around you and the other folded and resting underneath his head. He liked this, he liked the way you felt in his arms, your bodies pressed tightly together, legs tangled together underneath your blankets. 

It had been almost 15 minutes since holding you like this, just laying together in silence and he liked that too. 

You shifted in your spot gently, untangling your legs from Steve’s in order to stretch them and he looked down at you as you decided to move away from him completely, saying,  “I’m gonna turn the heater off for a bit.” 

Steve nodded, as you removed yourself from the bed, holding one of your loose sheets around you. He watched you go, heart fluttering in his chest as you flashed him a sweet grin before turning and disappearing into your hallway. 

He sighed, smiling to himself as he moved to sit up and then run his hands through his now slightly greasy hair. There was a mirror on the dresser to his left, so he could see just how messy his face was, but he could also see the fresh marks you left on parts of his neck and chest. Right next to the ones from last night. He even touched them, feeling his stomach flood with heat, wondering if either of you could go another round because after all it had been quite a while and you just made Steve absolutely insatiable that he didn’t even want to leave after breakfast.

You had come back, holding a pile of clothes in your arms. It was the clothes Steve had discarded in the living room the night before and just never put back on. 

“Here,” you said cheekily as you placed them on the bed then went to the dresser. Steve took that moment to reach out and grab you. You gasped softly as he did, and he was grinning widely at you as he pulled you onto his lap. 

“Hi,” Steve told you, hands sprawled out on your bare thighs, gently squeezing the flesh there.

“ Hey ,” you replied breathlessly, moving your hands toward his hair as if it were second nature by now. He sighed through his nose and leaned up to kiss you again, and already, again , you were putty in his lap. You weren’t sure if you were ever going to get enough of Steve Harrington, especially now that you’ve gotten an actual taste of him. 

God, it was so easy to fall in love with him and you weren’t sure you’d ever want to be with anyone but him.

It was that thought that had you pausing, and Steve had felt you suddenly go still against him. He opened his eyes and leaned away to give you a curious look before asking what was wrong. You swallowed thickly, leaning away from him as well, but not leaving his lap. 

“Steve I…what…what is this?” you asked. He blinked gently, and you could see his eyes grow thoughtful before he peered back up at you. He was going to say something, but for some reason you were suddenly scared he was going to say it was a one time thing (thought one time turned into a few times that your sheets were gonna smell like him for a while), so you said, “I’m not expecting anything…we were pretty drunk last night…” 

Steve stared at you, before he licked his lips and said, “We weren’t drunk this morning…” 

The dread in your stomach gently faded at that, and you replied, “I don’t know…those pancakes were so good they did something to me.”

He laughed at that, and his laugh made you laugh as well and he kept his gaze on you the entire time, as if he loved watching you laugh and smile. You pressed your lips together in a smile, and he said, “I don’t…I don’t want it to be a one time thing, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

His expression had grown serious, and his hands that were squeezing the flesh of your thighs turned into gentle rubs, as if he was nervous. 

“ I like you ,” he said, though his voice sounded a little forced, because he didn’t want to use the word ‘like’ because his feelings for you were more than that, though you didn’t know that. You would take what you could though, and force yourself to use the same word as well, even though it was quite clear to you that you were completely in love with him. 

“So…what now then?” you asked softly. 

He sucked in a breath. The truth was, Steve didn’t know, well he did know, but he still wasn’t sure about it because he had suddenly thought of his daughter. The thought of Cassie made Steve frown, and a weird feeling crossed his chest that made him doubt the decision he was about to make. Steve wanted to be with you, but his stupid mind had started to talk him out of it, telling him he wasn’t going to work , you didn’t deserve his flaky nature, or to wait on him when he was too busy for you…he didn’t want to do that to you, just like he had told Robin the first night she came back to Hawkins. 

But then he also thought about the other thing Robin had told him…he’d be crazy if he didn’t at least try .

Alas, it was the thought of Cassie that halted any decision making on Steve’s part, as he realized that he was supposed to pick her up almost an hour ago, which was not helping the case in his mind. He forgot his own damn daughter, not that Delilah’s mother minds, nor does Cassie and Dee herself, but he still felt horrible. 

“Shit, I’m sorry, I have to go, ” Steve told you, failing to realize before he said it that he didn’t answer your question as he gently moved you off of him.

 Your heart had fallen down to your stomach, and Steve caught the expression on your face as he pulled on his boxers, and was grabbing his jeans. It was one of heartbreak, and it tore him inside to see it. It made him pause with his jeans halfway on, and he opened his mouth but nothing came out as he felt ridiculous with his jeans only up to his knees, so he pulled it on and buttoned it before walking toward you. 

“No! No, that- that wasn’t my answer,” he told you, fear in his voice that he messed up. 

“Steve, it’s okay-” you tried to say, but he reached over to gently touch your cheek and kiss you without really thinking. You went still as his lips pressed gently against yours, and he leaned with a soft sigh. 

“I’m late to pick Cassie up, that’s all,” he assured, his hand still on your suddenly very hot cheek, “I just…I want to talk again, okay?” 

“Okay,” you said, because you were at a loss of words of what his sudden kiss meant and didn’t know what else to say. Steve seemed content with that and nodded, before he gently swiped his thumb under your eye and told you earnestly, “I’ll call you.” 

Now you could only nod, and he returned that nod before grabbing his shirt and putting it on. You could only sit on the bed, the sheet still the only thing covering your bare body, and you watched him quickly put his shirt on, inside out but you doubt he cared as his concern was forgetting to pick his daughter up. 

He did spare you one last glance and small good-bye though before he was rushing out of your room and down the hall, where you could hear him cursing as he put his shoes on before you heard him open the door to your garage. 

When you could no longer hear him in your house, you suddenly felt very cold without him there, and you hugged the sheet around you tighter, already missing him and the warmth he always brought you. 

And you waited for that call, standing idly by the phone whenever you were home, keeping your stereo off even as you eventually scrubbed away at the wine stain on your carpet that would just not come out. When you folded all the blankets, washed the wine glasses, and tossed the empty one in the trash. It was pushed to the back of your mind for about an hour, when you called a towing company to get your car from Starcourt, and take it to the mechanic in Downtown Hawkins. When you got home though, it was night time, and you waited.

You waited for it, even the following day, and the day after that…you would even find yourself gazing at the door, wondering if he was going to walk through those doors, apologizing for not calling because he’d rather see you instead. 

But he didn’t. Steve was never the one to walk through the office doors in the days following the night and morning you spent together, was never the one on the other side of the line if your phone did happen to ring. You told yourself that you weren’t hurt, trying to convince yourself that when you said you weren’t expecting anything you were telling the truth. 

You fell in love with Steve Harrington, and then…well, you were sure that if he didn’t call or make the effort to see and speak to you even after everything he told you before he left your house in such a rush to pick Cassie up…then it must be his way of saying that nothing, nothing was to come from what happened between the two of you. 

He was busy, you knew that, he told you relationships weren’t his forte from the beginning, everyone did, and yet, he was so easy to like, even easier to fall in love with that you didn’t stand a chance. Still, your heart couldn’t try and rationalize his actions like your brain, and you were completely and utterly heartbroken. 

And then, you wondered just what the hell was Steve freaking Harrington’s reason for all this.

[resident-gay-bitch]

FINALLY managed to get an update of soccer dads out. happy birthday max, ya little rat!! (affectionate)

[sunshineandlyrics]

❤️ Robert Irwin talking about his Mum Terri Irwin.

[angelsdean]

plagued with too many fic ideas i'll never write (bc it takes me like 2.5 yrs to write a long fic RIP)

[steddiescrunkle]

just posted chapter 4 of my most recent wip. pls go read, i'm really proud of it so far

[philomelia]

i think i'm gonna answer a thread or two but i'll mostly be fic writing today...

[eddiernunson]

I Can Do It With A Broken Heart | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader | 18+

Summary: You and Eddie have both had crap luck on dates lately, nothing that can't be fixed with a strawberry milkshake. However, he gets asked out on a date and it goes well...until it turns your life on its head and he forgets how to pick up the phone. You don't even care that he's dating someone else you just want your best friend back.

Warnings: idiots in love, best friends to lovers, ANGST, brief EddiexChrissy, ooc Chrissy, attempted SA, bestfriend!Steve, and needy, desperate smut that makes it all worth it.

Thanks to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing bestie

I’m astounded at the response to the preview I posted last week. Thank you so much for the love, I hope you enjoy all 40k (20k wtf did my brain go)

-

As you pull up to the little house at the end of the street, you look over to the sweet boy with blonde hair and green eyes nervously, curtaining a strand of hair behind one ear. He shoots you a smirk, white pearly teeth peeking from behind pretty pink lips. The date has gone phenomenally well, the conversation over dinner was easy and your date even easier on the eyes. You smooth your hands over the dress you’re wearing, picking at imaginary lint as you’re entirely unsure of what to say next.

Daniel, your date, leans onto the center console, the scent of his minty breath roping you in. “So, dinner was like, forty dollars.”

Your brows pinch together, the topic of conversation coming from left field.

“And the flowers were about twenty.” He says, his voice hinting at a subtext lost on you.

You think back to the flowers, a cascade of spring colours that drenched you in their floral scent. They sit on your dresser in a vase, waiting eagerly for you to come home.

“Okay…?” You ask, unsure of what he’s getting at.

Daniel sighs, suddenly the frustration you didn’t see before is clear on his face. “Well, I think I deserve some compensation for the princess treatment, don’t you think?”

He’s raising his brow suggestively, and the atmosphere in the car turns thick as you realize what he’s referring to. You feel so stupid. Suddenly the smirk on his face isn’t sweet, it’s sleazy. The cologne he’s wearing isn’t earthy, it’s gross. He’s not a good guy, and you feel foolish for thinking otherwise.

You think fast, lowering your eyelashes in a feigned blush. “Actually, I think it deserves just a little more than that. Be right back, I’m going to grab a condom.” You wink as you get out, the cherry on top.

Daniel lights right up, apparently not expecting his ridiculous method to work. The sound of him undoing his belt makes you nearly gag as you run in the front door.

Your dad, the sweetheart of a single father he is, welcomes you with a kind smile until he sees your crestfallen face. “You okay?”

“No,” you choke back, tears threatening to fall down your cheeks. “He’s demanding I repay him for dinner.”

“Repay?” You tilt your head, inferring what it means. “Oh. Fucking twerp. You need me to–”

“Can I have 60 bucks?” You interrupt him, avoiding his angry eyes.

He melts. “Sure.”

You walk back out the door, head held high right to the little corvette that sits at the end with the cheeky asshole sitting contently, waiting for his treat. The window is still open from earlier in the night, which works right in your favor.

“Here,” you toss the bills at him, allowing a small smile to grace your face at his confusion. “Since you’re so worried about being paid.”

As soon as he understands what you’re telling him, his face curves into a scowl, embarrassed, but too proud to say so. “Like I wanted to do it with Eddie Munson’s slut anyway!”

Halfway back up to the house, you turn back to the car as the engine growls into the night. How does that make sense? you wonder. Why am I being called a slut when I refused to put out?

The front door to your house slams shut again, and your dad receives the message that you would not like to talk about it. “Ed called just now, by the way,” he mentions as you reach the top of the stairs. Your pause in gait tells him you heard him, but you don’t respond because you can hear the smirk he wears, as much as you repeatedly tell him that Eddie is just a friend.

The flowers you thought so fondly of now have a looming presence in your room, like a dark shadow menacingly waiting in the corner. You ignore them as you lift the pastel phone to your ear, dialing the number you know by heart.

He picks up on the first ring. “Hi, sweetheart.” Relief washes over you, instant and comforting.

“Hey, Eds. How was your date?” You and he had the same plans tonight, you just hope it turned out better for him.

“It sucked,” he sighs, sounding like he’s rummaging through his messy chest of drawers. “She didn’t want a date, I guess.”

“Well what did she want?” You ask, going through your own drawers for something comfier to wear.

“Uh, to be shown a good time,” he answers dryly, the sound of rummaging coming to a sudden stop. “Heard the rumors of Munson’s magic fingers and apparently only wanted that.”

Yikes, you think. Eddie’s had many hook ups in the back of his van, but as of late he’s finding himself defeated when they don’t want him, just what he can do for them. Your heart hurt for him last week when he admitted they rarely, if ever, reciprocated.

You didn’t think it’d be an appropriate moment to tell him you would happily reciprocate for him.

“That’s extremely shitty. Guess it’s not all that different from my date though, who expected payback from spending a lousy sixty bucks.”

“Payback?”

“Asked me to suck his dick and pointed to it,” you say, a million times more bluntly than you could to your dad.

“I knew that Daniel guy was an asshole,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “I think our shitty dates deserve each other.”

You laugh, holding the PJs you plan on wearing as you sit cross legged on your bed. “To be honest, I don’t think Daniel would’ve been all that great in bed anyway.”

“I could’ve told you that. He looks like he would call thirty seconds a long time,” Eddie laughs. “Sit tight, princess, I think we’ve earned pancake night at Benny’s.”

“C’mon, I was just about to get comfy!” You whine.

“Nah, wear the pretty dress. It deserves to see a strawberry milkshake, don’t you agree?”

Honestly, a milkshake night with your best friend is exactly what you need. “Sure. See you in twenty?”

“Eh, ten.”

You throw out the flowers, tossing the vase full of water into the kitchen sink, shrugging when your dad gives you an apologetic look. You certainly are already over it, just another asshole in Hawkins, who would’ve thought? When the loud music from Eddie’s stereo pulls up, your dad nods in understanding, telling you to have fun as you leave through the front door.

The date night dress you wear is a summer dress that sits just above your knees, held together by spaghetti straps decorated with pretty blue florals. It's a dress you go to for formal events, and even saw a dance or two back in high school. Of course, you had to dust it off for the cute boy in your Psych class who ended up being a complete dickwad.

The fabric of Eddie’s beat up van is familiar. So familiar that you could argue his passenger seat has a permanent indent from your ass. Eddie has, in fact, pointed it out from one night stoned in the back with him, giggling as you vehemently denied it. At your sudden quiet shut down stature, he patted your ass gently, claiming that he didn’t want any other person’s ass planted on his seat except yours.

That conversation, as hazy as it was, stayed in your mind for days after the fact.

Eddie’s dressed in his own version of a date night outfit, tight jeans exposing his knees with jagged rips under a leather jacket and plain black t-shirt. He’s gorgeous, tauntingly so. It’s not much different from an ordinary outfit, but the faint smell of fresh laundry detergent and his best cologne is the best evidence he’s all dressed up.

The loud music speaks for him, loudly, pulling off before your seatbelt is even clicked into place.

The path from your house to Benny’s is well trekked by you and Eddie on late nights when you should’ve been doing homework but ended up goofing off instead. Martha, a waitress that’s been working there well over twenty years, smiles with smeared red lipstick and too much blue eyeshadow.

You walk in stride with each other, straight to the corner booth as the husk of 20 years of chain smoking barks over the gentle music, “Hey, you two! Eddie, are you finally taking this girl of yours on a date?”

Shut up, you silently beg her, avoiding either of their eyes as you stare at your lap, seemingly fixated on a loose thread at the hem of your dress.

“Oh, I’m not that lucky,” Eddie winks, throwing his arm behind you on the back of the booth. “We’re just recovering after shitty dates.”

“One day, you two,” she muses, tapping her pen rhythmically on her little notepad. It’s never been the same notepad twice, always decorated with a little cartoon sticker on the front. You’re tempted to run to the dollar store and grab her a larger one, but a part of you thinks she thrives on her many little notepads. “Alright, a large strawberry milkshake with two straws, pancakes with extra strawberry sauce and fresh strawberries on top, and waffles loaded with whipped cream and sprinkles. Correct?”

You nod in unison, both aware that she insists you will collectively rot the teeth out from your gums if you insist on overdosing with sugar every damn time you waltz in late at night. She’s given up offering other menu items, having ordered extra strawberries just to make up for your love of the fruit.

Less than five minutes later, following the blissful sound of a blender, the milkshake is wordlessly dropped off at the table, closer to you as even Martha knows you will be drinking 75% of it. The sweet, pinky taste flows easily down your throat, humming softly as you dip into the whipped cream with a finger. “Best milkshake in town,” You assert.

“I wouldn’t know,” Eddie answers, smirking, “you never let us get a milkshake from anywhere else!”

You giggle, licking some of the whipped cream that found a home in the corner of your mouth. “I could never! It would be like cheating! This milkshake would just know,” you drop your voice to a whisper, “it would smell the other milkshakes on me!”

“We couldn’t have that,” Eddie grins, grabbing the large glass to take a sip. “Sorry your date was such a jerk.”

You shrug, already having gotten over it. You’ll just need to sit on the other side of the lecture hall from now on. “He seemed so nice.”

“No offense, sweetheart, but I could’ve told you that Daniel Moore was a shitty person,” Eddie finishes another sip of the milkshake, making a large dip in the glass as the pink slush is pulled up the straw. “He likes to instigate.”

You rest your chin on your elbow, sad the milkshake is already nearly gone. “I had just hoped he would’ve matured by now…”

“In seven months?” Eddie asks you incredulously, raising his brows past his curly bangs. His expression quickly turns curious, tilting his head at you.

“What?”

“So, you’re willing to bet that Daniel Moore has improved just based on personal speculation alone but you’re not willing to believe me when I say Steve Harrington is no longer a douche?”

You roll your eyes. God, you should’ve seen this one coming. “That’s different! I only heard about Daniel. Steve Harrington actually sat back and laughed when Tommy asked–”

“You out as a joke, yeah, I know, I’ve heard it before,” Eddie mumbles, grinning at your shocked expression. “Well, that was like what, three years ago?”

“I still can’t believe you’re friends with Steve Harrington now, of all people! Listen, I know he’s also Dustin’s friend, but I find it hard to believe that you guys even have something in common,” You shrug.

“I still can’t believe you refuse to give him another chance!” Eddie playfully retorts, licking some of the whipped cream that still sits on the rim of the glass. “He’s in your Sociology class, isn’t he?”

Yeah, and he seems to insist on forcing his friendship on you, too, no matter how much you resist it. If you found friendship in Eddie, it seems reasonable to find friendship with Steve, too. Yet, there’s a little part that remembers the cruel laughter, his carelessness with others’ lives, and it ripples down your spine in a violent shudder.

You haven’t gotten rid of the notion of being his friend completely, but it’s just not the right time for you, yet.

You shrug. The topic has too much nuance for a nice dinner with your best friend. Just in time, Martha wordlessly drops off the two plates, the smile that spreads across your face is effortless. Zachary, the night chef must’ve heard about the shitty night and added extra for you, because the mountain of strawberries on the table is huge, even for your standards.

Eddie smirks, reading your mind. “You gonna finish all those?”

“Absolutely!”

-

Eddie sits on one side of the open courtyard, flicking off ashes from his cigarette as he waits for you to get out of class. He mentally reflects on his crazy afternoon, taking another long, much needed drag. The car with the million symptoms was one thing, but the proposition he got right before, he couldn’t wrap his head around it.

It’s been 13 days since Daniel, four awkward classes of avoiding his glare, and you’ve decided to give up on boys completely. The one you want doesn’t want you, and the dates you’re going on don’t seem to do well no matter who you say yes to. The two offers you’ve gotten in the last week were therefore denied, realizing that even if they are cute, you don’t want to lead anyone on when your heart belongs to someone else.

Before the aforementioned date, you were practically begging for someone to ask you out, but for some inexplicable reason, now you’re getting offers left and right. Somehow people just know when you’re playing hard to get.

At least Eddie’s dates seem to be going terribly for him, as well. That’s one thing you can thankfully count on.

The puff of smoke that leaves his lips as you approach him should not be as gorgeous as it is. It’s practically unfair. “Hey, Eds.”

He flicks the filter, killing it on the cement table he sits at as he blows out one more puff. “Hey, sweetheart.”

Just from that particular look in his eye, you can tell something is on his mind. “You okay, there, Munson?”

He smirks, effortlessly standing up. “I suppose. I’m not sure how to react. Or how you’ll react.”

Your brows meet your hairline, watching his mind move at a million miles per hour. “Ok, Eddie, this better be about a new class of creatures in DnD, or something, because you’re scaring me.”

He smiles, nodding his head over to the halls that lead toward the front door of the campus. “Someone asked me out on a date, earlier, today.”

Your brows furrow, biting back the jealousy that eats at your chest. Every little part of you holds back the monster that threatens to claw its way out, to snarl and hiss at every girl that even so much as looks at him wrong. It’s hard to bite it back, to choke on it purposely, but if you must, you will.

It tastes like venom as you swallow it back down. “Oh, who?”

A faint pink spreads across Eddie’s cheeks, much to your dismay. Not once, in your fuck, what, seven, eight years, of friendship have you ever managed to see Eddie blush. (Just once but it was when you nearly walked in on him jerking himself off a few short years ago.) “Who?”

“Um Chrissy. Chrissy Cunningham?”

Your jaw drops, but your gut falls through the floor. You swear you hear it smash through the tiled floors and fall into the depths of hell.

“She asked you out?”

“Hey! Don’t act so surprised! A cheerleader could like me!”

That was the last thing on your mind. Of course a cheerleader could like Eddie, they’d be stupid not to. No. Every other girl that Eddie has either slept with, or gone on a date with brought no worry to your head, competition, per se. But a girl like Chrissy, one with pretty blonde curls, adorable smile and a sweet disposition, it’s like your worst nightmare come true.

Thanks to living in such a small town, you can recall 99% of the names that Eddie had told you, whether they be hookups or a date. Most of them didn’t intimidate you, only because, selfishly, you could nitpick at things you think wouldn’t work out with Eddie. Whether they were too vapid, too shallow, had none of the same interests as him, only shallowly liked him for his looks, or was a bully…you had something to give great comfort to you to prevent that little jealousy monster from clawing its way out.

This time, your brain wracked itself for some sort of answer. Some sort of flaw in the Queen of Hawkins High that could settle this uneasiness that has taken over your mind. Nothing. Nothing.

“I’m not surprised a cheerleader could like you, I’m surprised that Chrissy Cunningham asked you out,” you answer candidly, walking in step with him to where you supposed was his van. “I’m guessing you said yes?”

“I’d be crazy not to!” Eddie answered sheepishly, tugging at the sleeves of his leather jacket. “I’m taking her out on Friday night.”

“Ah, you’ll tell Steve to take Creeper off hold for us, then?” You try to keep your tone nonchalant, but bitter jealousy coats your tongue.

Eddie stops mid stride, faltering, his brows pinched as he gives you those big brown eyes. “Shit. It totally slipped my mind.”

This is also new. Even as his dates would happen, any previously made plans with him were always a priority. You just hope this doesn’t become a new habit of his.

“We’ll do it on Saturday, yeah?”

You nod, giving him the comfort you suddenly find yourself craving. From the pep in his step, the rosiness of his cheeks, the warm glint in his eyes, you can tell that he’s truly excited. As a best friend, you try to be happy for him, however hard it is to make the smile on your face even remotely convincing.

Eddie curls his arm around your shoulder, tugging you along with him for what will probably be another afternoon in his room, clouded by a haze of weed.

You smoke more than usual, if anything to allow his excitement and plans for his big date in two days to buzz into the background, the bong hit rippling through your lungs as a punishment for yourself.

-

A weight on your bed suddenly dips down and you sit up quickly to face Eddie sitting on the corner of your mattress with a small smile on his face. Your headphones, still playing the obnoxiously loud music that drowned out his knocks, fall off your head as you sit up. You press the STOP button, clicking loudly in the silence as you stare at your best friend.

The anxiety of his date has eaten you all night long, the only thing strong enough to distract it being music loud enough to hurt your eardrums. You always feel some sort of anxiety, but tonight was even worse, eating at your brain in fear of how painful it might be to be third wheeling with him after being his #1 for so long.

For once, you can’t tell how it went. A slimy, selfish part of you is hoping he shares bad news. His smile breaks. Into a bigger, much brighter beam. Damn.

“How did it go?” You ask, already knowing the answer.

Eddie slams himself onto the bed next to you, hiding his eyes with his hands with his dimples deep, his pearly whites exposed. “Fuck, it was the best date I’ve ever had.”

Your heart shatters. “That good?”

“God, she’s– much better than I thought she could’ve been,” Eddie answers, peeking out from behind his hands. “It’s fucking crazy.”

Of course Chrissy Cunningham, a known sweetheart, is everything he’s ever dreamed of. Of course she lived up to his expectations. Just your luck. “I’m just jealous of your remarkable turn in luck, I guess.”

Eddie chuckles, turning onto his stomach to face you as he kicks his feet. “You’ll have your turn, baby.”

The pet name stings in the worst way. Instead, you raise your brow at him. “Look at you lookin’ like a schoolgirl with a crush. Pretty boy doesn’t even need makeup with all that blush.”

He rolls his eyes, pinching you on the shin. “You’re such a shithead.”

“Yeah, well you still choose to hang out with me anyway, so, that’s on you.” It takes everything in you to ask the following question, “So, tell me about your date, will ya?”

He does. He rattles on and on about how pretty she is, how easy the conversation was, how much she surprised him, how the night ended with a kiss that had Eddie giggling. He lays next to you, leather jacket put aside on the corner chair and boots next to your bunny slippers at the end of your bed. Your small twin mattress has you close in proximity, your side in direct contact with him as he rests his head on his hands.

“She’s such a cool girl, you know?”

You’re half asleep by now, allowing the exhaustion to overwhelm the slight ache in your chest. It zaps through your heart, overwhelms your senses and makes you dizzy. Your eyes flutter shut, but Eddie keeps talking softly next to you.

“Why were you blasting your 8-track, anyway?”

The question harshly yanks you out of the haze, failing to think of something that doesn’t seem completely false. You wish you were a better liar. “Just stressed out about your date.”

He gives you a strange look, eyebrows tilted. “Hmm?”

“We both haven’t had a very good track record, lately, and if things won’t turn around for me, then at least they should do one of us a favor.” Not, not the truth, but definitely an over exaggerated version of it.

“You’re so good to me, you know?” Eddie asks, intertwining his hand with yours. “Wasting your anxiety on me.”

The rings are harsh against your skin, squeezing your fingers tightly. The physical hurt is almost comforting in direct contrast to your emotional hurt.

His scent is comforting, as it lures you like the pied piper into the land of sleep. It’s about another twenty minutes until he realizes there are soft snores coming from you. He doesn’t care to drive all the way home, despite it only being a five minute drive away.

He falls asleep to your comforting breaths, allowing your hand to remain engulfed in his.

-

The loud ringing of your phone jerks you awake, quickly crawling to the side of your bed as you grab it from the dock housed on the floor.

“Hello?” Sleep sits deep in your voice, spelling out clearly to your caller that you just woke up.

It just occurs to you that you could’ve just allowed your dad to answer it.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Eddie’s voice is chipper, alarmingly so since you’re not even awake yet.

“You sound way too awake for someone that didn’t believe in waking up before 1pm,” you quip, rubbing your eyes sleepily.

“Ha,” he deadpans, yet it's clear he’s smiling. “Chris wants to meet you. I mean, I know you’ve already met her, but you know, as my girlfriend?”

Ugh. It’s been a harrowing three weeks. “Yeah, sure. What did you want to do with her?”

“I thought we could introduce her to pancake night,” Eddie sheepishly answers, like he knows you would be hesitant to invite someone into your holy ritual.

Yeah. You don’t want to invite her. But…you asked for patience last month and it seemed that the universe has answered with a lovesick Eddie Munson.

“I don’t see why not,” you lie, finding it rolls off the tongue much easier than it used to.

“You’re the best! I’ll see after you study in the library, yeah?” He knows your schedule. On Thursdays after the morning Sociology class, you opt to crawl up into a small corner and hermit yourself with snacks and a pile of books to get the work that needs to be done finished.

In high school, you could get away with doing minimum work and passing, but with your dad paying and barely able to afford it even with his second job, it sent the need to do your work to the best of your ability for once. You owed him at least that much from all the calls of missed classes for four years straight.

“Sure.”

As you stretch while hanging up the phone, you glance over to the alarm clock to see the time and it lurches you forward in bed to scramble for clothes, textbooks, and scattered papers as your lecture starts in less than twenty minutes. You’re usually already sitting in the seat by then.

On your way out the door, your dad is surprised you’re still home, offering to drive you. You don’t want to burden him even more than you already have, so you insist you can ride your bike and still get there on time. Well, at least you hope you can.

The bike rack is nearly full when you get to the college, six or seven locks messily put around the poles, most bikes already fallen over. You jam your bike in between two of them, hurriedly wrangling the annoying coil of sturdy cable between what you’re sure is entangled in someone else’s lock, too. Whatever, they should’ve been more organized.

The clock on the wall tells you class started three minutes ago and your heart falls to your stomach, knowing the professor is a stickler for punctuality. His words falter as soon as you enter the hall, the heavy door echoing its creak against the walls. He graciously allows you to sit and get situated before he continues. He makes examples of every late student, and you figured you would never be in his laser eyed focus. Well, before your alarm decided not to go off.

The last chair available is the corner chair in the front row, the one spot in class you love to avoid. It’s too close for comfort, a place he often chooses for students to answer his questions even if they don’t raise their hand.

That, and it’s right beside Steve Harrington.

His fingers raise from the desk as a greeting, sharing a sweet smile as you start to collect your textbook and notes. You awkwardly smile back at him, your attention snapped back to the professor as he pointedly talks right at your desk in his lecture. Fuck, this’ll be annoying.

By the time the three hour lecture ends, your hand hurts from the amount of notes you wrote down, one side covered in graphite from smudging the paper. Your stomach grumbles, asking loudly for lunch after neglecting to eat breakfast as usual.

Unbeknownst to you, Steve follows a step behind. “That lecture was brutal,” You hear from behind you. You toss your head over your shoulder to glance back at him before turning back around.

“I guess.” You say awkwardly. Here we go again.

“Out of curiosity, how are Eddie and his new girlfriend doing? Chrissy Cunningham, huh? I cannot say I saw that coming.”

Neither did you. “They’re doing great, from what I hear. Haven’t really met her, yet,” you answer, heading straight to the small cafe that has a home in the heart of the campus. “Listen, Steve, I really don’t want to talk about this right now.”

“Why not? You don’t think he’s happy with her, or something?”

You stop midstep, turning to face him. “It’s not that. I just don’t have the capacity for it, ok?”

“You like him,” Steve accuses, his brows meeting his hairline.

Your jaw drops, stuttering through an empty sentence. “I do not like him!”

“Really?” Steve laughs, crossing his arms as he watches you build a brick wall around yourself. “So you not wanting to talk about his new girlfriend has nothing to do with the way your face fell when I asked about it?”

How the hell did Steve Harrington pick up on it so fast, of all people?

“Even if I did, why the hell would I want to talk about it with someone I don’t even know?” You sigh, looking wistfully over to the cafe. “Besides, I’m not even caffeinated yet.”

Steve rolls his eyes, nodding towards the said cafe. “Here, if I treat you to some coffee will you talk to me about it?”

“If you add a wrap to the deal, then I’ll think about it,” You say dryly, pulling a laugh from him.

The barista, a student who you’ve gotten to know is somehow managing to do pre-law and work part time smiles nicely.

“I’ll get a vanilla latte with nonfat milk and an extra pump of vanilla, please.”

Steve raises his brow at you before making his own order, “I’ll get a medium black coffee with room for creamer, please, and whatever this lady wants from the menu.”

You scan until you reach the egg omelet wrap with mushroom, bell peppers, and tomatoes. “The loaded omelet wrap.”

After Steve pays he meets you on the handout counter. “Why nonfat milk and the extra pump of vanilla?”

“If I get nonfat then I can replace the sugar with the extra vanilla.”

“Pretty sure that’s not how that works.”

You pick up the cup as it lands on the counter, wincing at the temperature on your tongue. “It works.”

Steve grabs his, shaking his head as he makes his way over to pour some creamer in.

The wrap is soon presented as well, steaming in its cardboard sleeve as the scent alone pools on your tongue with saliva. The only thing that got you through that lecture was just the thought of lunch.

Steve meets you at a two-top by the window, setting his own bag down as he sits right across from you.

The omelet, much too hot to eat, sits waiting for you on the chestnut brown table as you sip on the latte. The latte is much too hot as well, but you’ve never had enough patience to wait for that caffeine kick. If you weren’t so afraid of your professor’s wrath you would’ve shown up another ten minutes late with a coffee cup in hand.

Steve allows you and himself a few minutes of quiet before he speaks. “So, why don’t you tell him?”

You cough mid sip, mentally apologizing to your lungs for allowing non-oxygen to make its way in. “I’m sorry?”

“Stop pretending. Eddie was dead on when he said you were a bad liar,” Steve says, grinning with stupid smirk on his face.

“Why have you and Eddie talked about me?” You ask, narrowing your glance towards him.

“Are you kidding? You’re all he talks about,” Steve shrugs, so nonchalant that you have no choice but to believe him. “Kind of annoying, actually.”

“Why?”

“I have to hear about how great of a friend this girl is but also how she can’t stand me.”

You huff in laughter at how distraught he genuinely seems by it, his face contorted into someone who definitely isn’t used to rejection. You cock an eyebrow at him. “Can you exactly blame me?”

“Yes! I can! Everybody loves me!” Steve rolls his eyes playfully, and damn it if you can’t help but find it mildly amusing.

“Hate to break it to you, there, sweetheart, but the people who were picked on by you don’t exactly crave to be around your oh-so-wonderful presence.”

He squints, crossing his arms as he leans forward. “Picked on? I mean that’s a little harsh, considering–”

“Fine, yes, you didn’t exactly jeer, or outright bully even, but you watched and laughed along and sometimes that feels even worse,” you admit, feeling suddenly small under his gaze. “Tommy and Carol said shit, that’s just what they did… But sitting back and watching sometimes is just as bad. You were nice, sometimes, I guess. But the fact that you had that capacity for kindness and chose against it just spoke volumes.”

“I met them in seventh grade. They weren’t as bad back then, mostly just somewhat belligerent. They got worse over time, but we all had terrible home lives, it was like we were the only ones that got what that was like…and somewhere along the way, I forgot that just because we had an excuse didn’t mean they had the right.”

“I guess that makes sense,” you answer, glancing at the omelet, debating taking your first steaming bite. “I mean, I’m not condoning it, but sometimes loyalty can be blinding.”

“I’m not that douche, anymore. I got that knocked out of me when I was seventeen. Literally. Now I spend most of my free time with a high school junior,” he laughs, taking another large sip of his coffee.

“Aah, Dustin,” you hum, thinking of the many instances where he had tried to convince you of what Steve had just told you. What made you so insistent on denying believing in either of your friends seems to dissipate, however, just in the friendliness that Steve radiates alone. Damn his charisma. “Would you believe me if I said he vouched for you many times?”

“The kid loves me, what can I say?” He shrugs, not hiding his laughter. “Now. Back to you. Why not tell him?”

No use in hiding it. If Steve can bare his soul in the middle of the day at a damn cafe just to get you to trust him, you suppose you owed him the same. “‘Cause he doesn’t feel the same,” you answer, starting to peel open the snack from the hunger pang. “Why make it weird when there’s nothing that could come from it?” You shrug, looking down sheepishly as the weight of your words sink into your heart like a stone.

“Doesn’t like you. Are you sure about that?” Steve asks, licking his lips.

You hesitate. “Is this a trick question?”

“Nope. I just wonder if you truly believe it, or if you’re too scared to let yourself have something you’ve wanted for so long.”

“Where do you get off on acting like you’re some sort of expert on this?” You ask, folding your arms across your chest. The question rings out from the mere fact that he is dead on the nose. He couldn’t be any more right. The very idea that Eddie had even an inkling of what you had for him scares you to death. You would rather keep him as a friend and lie in wait than lose him from a great love and not have him at all.

“I’m more observant than most people give me credit for,” he admits, twirling his almost empty coffee cup. “I’ve heard countless hours of Eddie talking about you, yet I haven’t heard him speak once about Chrissy. That says a lot, don’t you think?”

“Well, me neither, and I’m his best friend. Don’t get down on your luck.”

“You are both idiots. Just tell him. Seriously. I’m sick of you both acting like a pair of love sick fools.”

“You seem to be very convinced of something that is not real,” you tell him, garbled from the bite of omelet you’re in the middle of swallowing. “If you keep this energy up when you’re studying, you would probably do pretty well for yourself.”

“Fine. Remain in denial. I don’t care. You can destroy yourself from the inside. Who cares? Just, let me in. I need someone to help me with these assignments. They are mind numbingly dull.” He throws his hands up like he’s admitting defeat.

“You need a study buddy?” You laugh, hiding the food that sits in between bites. “I suppose that could be arranged.”

“Sweet. Now are you gonna treat me to a coffee every now and then, or?”

“I have a single father, not an unlimited credit card from Daddy’s big business, Steve Harrington.” You say matter-of-factly, jabbing your finger towards him accusingly.

“Oh, so I have to provide the newly released movies and buy the coffee, I see how it is.”

“Privilege breeds responsibility, Stevie. I don’t make the rules.” You give him a half smirk. As you look at him, you’re finally seeing the person you thought could see all those years ago behind the mask of his terrible friends. Steve’s ambush would be the best thing to come out of the next few weeks.

Because it turned into hell.

-

As your hair runs wild behind you, there’s a grand attempt to allow yourself to let the wind distract you from the sinking feeling in your gut. It grows bigger and bigger, until it becomes unbearable as you reach the gravel lining the trailer park. You allow your bike to fall heavily on the trailer, taking a moment to collect your courage before knocking on Eddie’s front door.

It feels weird knocking. You can’t even recall the last time you did. But, you refuse to overstep any boundaries that might not be communicated yet. Being on Chrissy’s good side will make your life a lot easier.

Eddie answers the door, out of breath and sweating with wild eyes and even crazier hair. “Hey!”

“Hey,” you greet, stepping in right behind him. You blink, taking in the pristine surroundings. It’s like stepping into an alternate dimension, one where Eddie and Wayne regularly cleaned their trailer and preferred the smell of lavender over stale beer and greasy pizza boxes. The kitchen is spotless, the living room has a lit candle sitting on the coffee table, and the shelves containing the million mugs were dusted. “Who are you and what the hell did you do with my best friend?” You laugh.

He chuckles sheepishly, crossing his arms in front of his chest as protection. “Uh, is it too much?”

“Better warn her now so she doesn’t get used to cleanliness,” you answer, watching as the surfaces around you sparkle and shine.

“Ha, ha. I have to get dressed. I have some snacks on the kitchen counter. You mind starting the popcorn?” Eddie doesn’t bother waiting for you to answer, already walking to his room.

You get a glimpse of his bedroom as he shuts the door behind him, smirking at the clothes still scattered on his floor. At least one part of this little haven of yours remains normal.

The popcorn shakes in your hold as you continually stir it on the stove to prevent it from sticking to the bottom of the thin aluminum bottom and burning. Just as the first batch of kernels reach their limit, a knock from the front door hits, each one feeling like a crack in any normalcy you’ve ever had.

Things will never feel the same ever again. Not after tonight. On your way to open the door you try to tell yourself that it can be a good thing.

Right?

The door opens to the once head cheerleader of Hawkins High, wearing a pink dress that fits her tiny frame nicely with blonde curls and bangs that beautifully frame her face. Her hands are folded behind her back, standing meekly in white sneakers and long lashes and blue eyeshadow. It’s hard not to be envious of how pretty she is.

It’s clear she’s not expecting you to open the door. “Hey! Sorry, Eddie’s just in his room. He should be out any minute.”

“Oh. Ok,” she enters as you back up, wringing her hands together, probably out of anxiety. “What movie did he rent?”

“You know, I was so busy making fun of him for cleaning up for once I didn’t bother to ask,” you admit, hoping to make the atmosphere just a little bit lighter.

She looks around the place, seemingly taking it in. “Hmm,” she hums, walking over to the couch. “It’s cute when they try so hard.”

“Sure,” you answer, walking back to the kitchen, hoping the popcorn isn’t irredeemably burnt. “Do you want butter on the popcorn?”

“Yes please!”

You’re in the middle of mentally begging Eddie to come out already while the butter melts in the microwave, the hum of the microwave loud in the silence.

“Okay! I’m ready!” Eddie announces, opening the bedroom door with a flourish. “Sorry for the wait!”

As he gets to the couch behind Chrissy, he wraps her in a big hug and plants kisses all over her neck. “How you doin’, sweetheart?”

You hold back the nausea as you pour the hot butter all over the popcorn in the large plastic bowl. You find it ironic that this is the same bowl you’ve held back Eddie’s hair over as he hurled into it. You just hope Wayne thoroughly cleaned it.

“Popcorn is ready, can y’all help me bring the chips and candy?” You ask, shaking the bowl to coat the butter over each kernel.

“We can do that,” Eddie answers, grabbing Chrissy’s hand as they walk to the kitchen.

“How can I help?” Chrissy asks, arms open as she looks around a kitchen she has no familiarity with.

“Um there’s some soda in the fridge, grab me and Ed a Coke, and you can grab yourself whatever you want,” you answer, pointing to the twenty year old fridge in the corner.

“Hand me some,” you command, holding a single hand for one of the many bags of snacks Eddie juggles.

The popcorn and a couple dozen little bags land on the coffee table in front of a blank tv screen. Chrissy sits with a soft grunt in between the two of you, cradling the cans of coke and sprite in her tiny arms.

She distributes the cans, handing them over to you and him. Eddie squats in front of the TV, pressing play on the tape which he apparently already prepared to watch. His plaid boxers peek out of his jeans, sitting above the studded belt as he adjusts volume and picture.

You share a smile with the blonde, opening your can and wincing at the loud hiss. You keep thinking about the days you and Chrissy will look back on how awkward this was. How the first days of this trio were so weird, and off putting, and how she thought you were a bitch when she met you.

Where she’s a friend.

You have to try.

“What are we watching?”

Eddie turns around slowly, that over exaggerated smile on his face that tells you he’s up to nothing but trouble. “Oh just a little somethin’”

“Oh god,” you wince, knowing that look on his face. You lean into her, whispering, “Hope you like horror.”

Chrissy turns to you with wide eyes and a queasy smile. “Not really.”

“Oh, this one is a classic,” Eddie promises, animatedly using his hands as he crouch-walks back next to her. “If any movie can turn someone into a horror fan, it’s this one.”

As soon as the music starts playing you recognize it. It’s a tune you’ve heard many times in his living room, subjected to it too many times if you had anything to say about it. Of course, you’ll watch it with him every time, regardless.

“Halloween? Seriously? The serial killer stalking the babysitter? You couldn’t think of anything else?” You roll your eyes. He could probably do a whole reenactment of the movie word for word if he tried.

“It’s a classic for a reason, sweetheart,” Eddie tells you, grabbing the bowl straight away. Of course, he will rip through the popcorn, he always does.

You feel Chrissy tense up, not that you can blame her. You suppose a talk about proper pet names will be necessary.

Each bag of snacks is eventually opened because you can’t stick to one bag long enough to finish it even if you tried. You get bored of the same taste too often. You have your favorite few, fuzzy peaches, M&Ms, Reese's Pieces, Swedish fish, and last and most controversially, at least where Eddie’s concerned, salt and vinegar chips.

He always has his own snacks at his disposal from nights of having the munchies, always on a dollar store run for said snacks. At each movie night he restocks, both yours and his alike, and suddenly you realize you will need to remember Chrissy’s too, if you’re going to be cordial.

With each bloody death that splatters the walls on screen, Chrissy grows closer and closer to Eddie. There’s a part of you that has considered using scary movies to cuddle up to him, but you’re just not genuinely scared of them enough to consider it. The ruse would’ve faded eventually. You try not to let the jealousy eat you up from the inside, no matter how much it burns your skin.

His arm wraps around her, petting her shoulder gently as she whimpers at the slash of his knife. “It’s corn syrup. Totally fake. You can tell by the color, it’s way too bright.”

Towards the end, the loud, chirpy, nauseating sound of kissing fills your ears. Your eyes can’t help it, they move towards the noise and immediately regret it. Oh god, they’re kissing. If you can even call that kissing. He’s practically engulfed her mouth.

Surely, with the company they have, they’ll stop, right? Their heads will remember and sheepishly get the fuck off each other? Right?

Two scenes and what feels like forever, later, you realize how wrong you are. “I’m glad you two are crazy for each other, really I am, but can we please wait until I’m gone?” You give an awkward laugh to try to stifle the discomfort coursing through your veins.

Eddie makes a surprised sound, almost like he completely forgot you were there. “Shit–sorry.”

Chrissy doesn’t make any apologies, in fact, you miss the way she rolls her eyes against his chest. She wanted to keep going, hoping you would take her hint to get lost.

Before long, the end of the movie finally arrives, the end credits rolling with that famous piano tune. Chrissy has practically stitched herself to Eddie’s side, her arms wrapped around his waist. The popcorn bowl is nearly full. All that work on it for nothing.

You sigh, about to claim that it’s your cue to leave when–

“I’m thinking we should show Chrissy one of our pancake nights, don’t ya think?”

No. You don’t want that. From the way Chrissy completely tenses up, neither does she. But for his sake, you both reluctantly agree.

Hawkins looks a lot different from Eddie’s backseat.

As the ring of the bell against the glass door announces your arrival, Martha’s head snapping up from the magazine she’s buried her nose in. “Hey you two, I was wondering when I would see you again!”

You and Eddie walk directly to the corner booth, as per usual, Chrissy trailing a half step behind him with her left hand intertwined with his right. Before Martha walks up to the booth, she starts the blender, the sound oddly comforting for how uneasy you feel.

“Well, looks like we got ourselves a little straggler! What’s your name darlin’?” She asks, the notebook she now holds a dark purple instead of the red she had last time.

Chrissy stares blankly at her, curling back into him. You don’t remember her being this shy in High School.

“This is Chrissy,” Eddie introduces her, giving her a fond look. “She’s my girlfriend.”

Martha’s penciled brows raise straight to her ruby red hair, the chewing gum loud in her silence. Her surprise only lasts two seconds, shifting into hospitality for the new member. “Welcome to these two’s many, many nights spent here at Benny’s. In fact, could you make them come a little less often. We’re starting to get annoyed at them.” She jokes, throwing a wink at you.

You laugh with Eddie, taking note of the fact that Chrissy is still silent.

“Alright, well I already know what these two want, did you need a second to look over the menu?”

She nods.

“Alright, well, I’ll be right back with your milkshake.”

“Can you make it one medium, one large with two straws?” You ask Martha, sure it would get more awkward if she brought one for you and Eddie to share.

“Oh, sure,” she answers, her voice unusually soft.

Less than five minutes later she returns with two milkshakes and a menu.

“Oh,” Chrissy comments, looking curiously at the pink ice cream drink in front of her. “I don’t really like strawberry. Can I get vanilla instead?”

Your forehead meets the table, punishing yourself. “Shit. I’m so sorry! I didn’t even think to ask.” Eddie apologizes.

“It’s fine.” Chrissy smiles sweetly at him.

“Oh, you gotta eat breakfast, it’s tradition,” Eddie mutters, switching her page to the all day breakfast menu.

“Hmm,” she responds, pointing to one of the menu options. “I think I’ll get the poached egg with the avocado toast.”

“Alright. Should be out quickly,” Martha answers, grabbing the milkshake from them.

“How often do you guys come here?” Chrissy asks, turning her face to Eddie.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Probably more often than we should. Like when shit goes sideways, or we need a hit of sugar, or when we just feel like bugging Miss Martha, over there.”

“When did you start coming?”

“My junior year,” you answer, smiling at the memory, “his second attempt at senior year, we both didn’t want to go to the stupid school dance, so we decided to get dressed up and come here, instead.”

“Why didn’t you want to go?”

Eddie shrugs, petting her shoulder with his thumb. “We thought it was dumb. Then, we ened up coming back when both of us failed this one really important bio test. Then, by the third time she remembered our orders and had the blender going by the time we sat down.”

Eddie asks how your day was, so you inform him you managed to have a civilized conversation with Steve Harrington. You have an audience for the conversation, one member animatedly interested, the other politely listening.

Polite is definitely the way to describe it, no spark in her eye. At least, not the one she wears when she listens to her boyfriend speak. In fact, you can practically see them glaze over.

Just as you nearly avoid explaining the main topic of the awkward conversation, Martha comes back over with two plates, one for you, one for Chrissy. It’s only half a moment until she’s back with the new milkshake and third plate.

The mountain of strawberries is bigger than average this time, this larger size becoming something you might get used to if the staff continues to spoil you like this. You take another flick of whipped cream from the top of the milkshake, suddenly realizing you’ve barely taken a sip the entire time. Damn, it’s usually half gone by the time you get your food.

“Do you guys order the same thing everytime?” Chrissy asks, looking at both of your plates.

“Yup!” You exclaim, spreading the strawberry sauce around your plate.

Her blonde brows furrow. “Maybe it’s not good to eat this much sugar every time you guys come here,” she comments, cutting at her squishy green toast. It doesn’t look appetizing to you in the least.

“It’s not like we come here every night,” Eddie laughs, spreading his sprinkled whip around the fluffy waffle. “It’s fine to indulge every now and then, you know?”

“Maybe you guys should try something a little healthier?” Chrissy asks, her voice having what you think is a little bit of a bite in it.

“People don’t exactly come here to eat healthy, Chrissy,” you laugh, thinking of the menu item called Heart Attack Jack, which is a burger doused in American Cheese with layers of bacon and a bucket of grease. It’s not going to be a soccer mom’s number one choice for health.

“You don’t have to bite my head off, it was just a suggestion,” Chrissy mutters, curling into herself.

“I-I didn’t,” you reply, very surprised at her knee jerk reaction. “I’m just saying, if we wanted to go somewhere to eat healthy, we probably wouldn’t pick a greasy diner in a small town in the middle of nowhere. Honestly, I’m not sure anywhere in Hawkins really has the healthiest choice.”

“Chris, what she’s trying to say is that eating a crap load of sugar is just tradition at this point,” Eddie says, intertwining her hand with his. “It’s a part of our ritual. You don’t have to eat like us if you don’t want to, we just thought you’d want to be included.”

“It’s just a lot of sugar, is all.” She’s barely taken a chunk out of her food, resembling a bunny in the very small, very tiny bites she continues to take. “Maybe I won’t join you guys next time. I don’t really understand the point.” She says sheepishly.

In the depths of your soul, you feel at that moment you would probably never get along with her, have given up hope on her completely. It wouldn’t be for a handful of weeks until you acknowledge that you had sound reasoning.

The bill is paid, money hitting the table on your and Eddie’s parts, the vanilla milkshake just barely touched. If you knew she wasn’t gonna drink it you would’ve doubled down on the strawberry, Eddie hates vanilla.

As you walk out to the van, trailing behind them as he wraps his arm around her shoulders, you find yourself at an impasse. “Eddie, can you give me a ride home?” Chrissy asks. She moves on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “Maybe I can ride you before you drop me off?”

The pancakes you wolfed down churn back up your throat, threatening to make their second appearance for the night.

Eddie’s cheeks flush, his eyes wide as he tugs her in. Guess that answers that question. “Um, do you need a ride?” He asks you, almost avoiding your eyes.

Chrissy’s death stare is plain as day, silently warning you not to take it. Fine, you didn’t want to sit in the van with these two, anyway.

“No, it’s fine. I can grab my bike from the back.”

Chrissy beams, her curls bouncing as she jogs to the passenger seat. You hope your ass imprint is uncomfortable for her.

Eddie returns with the bike, putting it gently down in front of you. “Hey, Ed?”

“Hmm?”

“Might want to teach your girlfriend how to whisper,” you tell him, grabbing the handles from him. “It’s not considered a whisper when everyone in a ten foot radius can hear!” It comes out harsher than you intend it, but with how horribly tonight has gone, you can’t bring yourself to want to apologize.

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie swears, the pink in his cheeks now from embarrassment. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t mention it,” you insist, dismissing it. You had a feeling she said it loud enough for you to hear on purpose, anyway. “Just use protection, ok? We don’t need any more Munsons in this world running around, creating chaos.”

If you got Chrissy pregnant I would actually be sick, is what you mean.

“Shut up,” Eddie laughs, wrapping you in a hug over the bike. “See you next time, slugger.”

That was when you changed from sweetheart to slugger.

-

There’s no whiplash like discovering your best friend is a completely different person when he’s in a relationship. On one hand, phone calls with him are as ordinary as always, teasing and jeering and flush with the familiarity of a best friend.

On the other hand, when you meet with him and his girlfriend, he seems to dampen his wild personality and slice it into ribbons for her sake. It kills you.

Reruns play on the small tv, old cartoons Wayne recorded for a rambunctious little kid in his mix. You’ve watched them enough to know some of them by heart, especially your favorite gags.

Eddie sits in the corner of the couch, curled up with Chrissy on his lap as they talk quietly. They’re low enough you can barely make out what they’re saying, but from the giggles alone, you have no interest in the nausea it would give you.

She was already in his lap when you got there, a sarcastic comment choked back having something to do with maybe getting off, opting to sit on the other end.

“Oh, Ed, the movie is next Friday,” you remind him, taking another sip of the ice cold coke in front of you.

“Remind me what that was?” Eddie asks you, peering his chin over Chrissy’s head.

You narrow your eyes, scoffing in incredulousness. “Uh, hello? I did not wait in line for hours for the Princess Bride just for you to forget!”

“OH, fuck I didn’t realize that was coming up so quickly!” Eddie exclaims, a wild look in his eyes. “Well, shit I’ll make sure to free my oh-so-busy schedule!”

“Sweet.”

“Oh, I totally wanted to see that movie!” Chrissy chirps, sitting up in Eddie’s lap. “Are there any more tickets for the night you guys are going for?”

“It’s been sold out for weeks,” you shrug, chomping on a potato chip. “I stood in line for like six hours that morning.”

“Oh,” she mutters, curling into him.

You wish you could say it doesn’t give you great pleasure to know she won’t be able to crash your movie night.

“You think, uh,” she starts, turning around to face you. “You think I could have your ticket and Eddie could take me?”

You scoff, bewildered that this even crossed her mind. “I beg your pardon?”

“I mean, I really wanted to see it and it doesn’t really make sense for you two to go out for a date, now that he’s dating me…”

“I think you forgot the part where I stood in line for six hours to get these tickets,” you reply, trying to catch Eddie’s eyes. He’s avoiding you.

“And I’m sure we’ll all go next time!” She offers as an almost smug smile plays at her lips.

She can’t be serious. After watching her face, you realize she is fully expecting you to give up your ticket so she can go with him. Guess that Iron Maiden concert coming up this summer is off the table, too, you think, rubbing your eyes tiredly.

You look at him, waiting for him to say something to indicate how ridiculous his girlfriend is being, to stand up for you.

Oh. He’s not going to.

“I really don’t see the big deal.” Chrissy scoffs.

Of course you don’t. “I’m sorry, but I’m not giving you my damn ticket!” you snap. “If you really don’t want Eddie to come with me that badly then I can get Steve to take me.”

Which is ridiculous, Eddie was the one who wanted to see this movie in the first place. It looked like it was about adventure, something Eddie loves in movies. You decided then sure, since his birthday is right after the movie comes out, you’ll stand in line for the tickets then treat him to a fun movie night.

If Chrissy is uncomfortable with that, then that’s her prerogative, but she can choose something else to do with her boyfriend since she wants to so badly. You won’t let her walk all over you.

Chrissy doesn’t answer, but she’s clearly upset by yours. “It’s alright, babe,” Eddie hums, tugging her up against his chest so she curls into him. “I can wait until it comes out. We’ll just rent it, yeah?”

You’re not sure which makes you more nauseous, the fact that he just made a plan with her that won’t come to fruition for six months, or that he had nothing to say in the conversation.

You’ve never felt so unwelcome on his couch. “I’m gonna head home. I’ll see you later.”

Whatever comes out of Eddie’s mouth then falls on deaf ears as you fight the tears that irrationally threaten to spill over your water line. They’re stupid, your emotions are stupid, the movie is stupid.

-

Steve sits on the other side of the light brown table in the library, hunched over some notes as you explain the concept to him once more.

“Ugh, this is ridiculous, I’m going to forget this as soon as we learn it,” Steve whines, rubbing his eyes.

“Well you’re only taking Sociology because you haven’t claimed a major yet and sociology is required in most degrees.”

“That’s true,” he smirks, stretching his arms. “This still is all starting to look like gibberish. I get it, we live in a society in which the rules are not in our favor, why does that have to be studied to this intent?”

You shrug. “It’s fascinating.”

“To who?”

You roll your eyes, wondering how he grew on you like a weed. “Alright, we’ll take a break, then.”

“Any plans upcoming for next Wednesday?”

“Uh, no, at least not that I’m aware of,” you answer, putting your highlighter down. “We were supposed to see the movie for it, but, well you know how that turned out.”

“I’m sure there’s something he’s planning,” Steve assures, tapping his pencil rhythmically. “It’s not like him to not make a spectacle of his birthday.”

That, you agree with.

“Dustin said he hasn’t heard anything about it, either. He almost planned a surprise party for him. You think he’s just taking it easy this year?”

You doubt it, he’s turning 21, after all. Not like hasn’t been going to bars since he was fifteen, but now at least he’d be able to go into a major city with his real ID without getting flagged. Last year he prattled on about plans for this one, how he was gonna have a big rager at Steve’s and drop a whole paycheck on kegs.

You’re sure if he was going to do anything in those next two days, then he would’ve told you by now.

That Wednesday morning, you rise early to the sound of your alarm.

The kitchen counter is already filled with the ingredients you need, preparing for a labor of love. You hook your Walkman to your jeans, listening to the music blaring in your ears as you add one ingredient at a time, watching the batter slowly come to shape.

It’s familiar, your mom’s famous homemade recipe for cake batter. After missing her many cakes and the familiarity of her food, you finally searched for the cards containing her neat print, clearly and concisely telling the reader what her recipes needed.

It became your favorite thing to do when you missed her.

As you pour the batter into each divet in the tray, you recall the first time you thought to make a birthday cupcake for Eddie.

Neither of you cared much for first period, so it was easy to catch him before he woke up. That day you presented a vanilla cupcake with a swirl of black and blue frosting. You learned that morning he hates vanilla.

Every other instance of making him a cupcake has been a litany of flavors, but never vanilla.

As they bake, you whip up the frosting with a hand mixer, hoping the low hum doesn’t wake your father. He works so hard already. Red food coloring turns it from white, the process all too satisfying.

A plastic sandwich bag with the corner cut off is always just enough for you to pipe frosting on, the skilled hand you’ve trained after trial and error working fast.

Your dad always knows on February 19th he will wake up to 11 cupcakes on a big plate.

The pastry sits in a comically large container as you borrow your dads truck, the sun just barely peeking over the horizon as you climb the stairs to the Munson’s front door.

You balance the cupcake in your hand as you head straight down the hall towards Eddie’s room. The sounds filling the trailer take a moment to register, for some reason not realizing how quiet it should be on an early weekday morning. The only sounds should be that of an early bird or newspaper hitting the front door.

Dread finds home in your stomach, as if on a very instinctual level you realize what you’re hearing. Though for some crazy, masochistic reason, those instincts wanted to be sure.

His door, wide open, reveals him hunched over Chrissy with the blanket barely covering his broad shoulders as he’s rocking. He’s rocking…and oh, you can hear her, too.

She’s moaning, whining, clawing her nails up his back like a leech, or worse, a tick, digging itself in and refusing to give up the tight hold they have on their victim.

Your mind goes empty, numb, until you hear her faintly wish him a happy birthday. You blink yourself out of the trance, blindly stumbling back into the fresh air of the living room. The cupcake lands on the kitchen counter on your way out the door, not caring as it slams behind you, definitely alerting Eddie and Chrissy of the third unknown presence in the trailer.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to even care about it, the queasiness deep rooted in your stomach threatening to make itself known on the outside plants.

You have a class in less than an hour, something you need to continue into the second year of your Communications degree, but not something that requires brain power.

The simple question of how you managed to ride your bike all the way to the campus, take notes in your class and blindly walk over to the library will always escape you. You somehow watch yourself go through the motions until you meet Steve at the cafe.

The moment he sees you, he knows something is wrong just by the deadened stare that’s taken over your face.

When you break down into tears, he brings you to his house, letting you finally admit to him what you’ve been afraid to admit to yourself.

You’re in love with your best friend. And while you’re doing your best to be happy for him, your poor heart can’t handle it.

-

The cupcake isn’t mentioned until you call him two days later, still heartbroken, but missing his voice. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, despite the great ache that makes each and every day fuzzy.

Usually, more than half the cupcakes get eaten by him, which is why a dozen are made each year. There’s still more than half left, the very sight of the cupcakes depleting your appetite as his continued absence carves a bigger and bigger hole in you.

He answers on the fifth ring, sounding as if he’s in the middle of rummaging through items in some way, slightly out of breath. “Hey, Chris, sorry I can’t find–”

You swallow the pain. Maybe the lump of pain swallowed in your stomach will finally evict itself like the contents of stomachs should. Yet, the more you throw it up, the more it seems to gather. How does that work? “It’s me.” You say dryly, tiredly.

“Shit,” he breathes, the background noise coming to a sudden halt. “Hey, you.”

“Hey. How was the cupcake?”

“The mysterious appearing pastry was delicious as always, slugger.” Slugger. “What-what time did you drop it off?”

You know that he knows that you heard something. He doesn’t know how much you heard, but he knows the slam of his front door was you.

“I didn’t hear much. Just enough to know you had already received your birthday present for the year,” the attempt at humor doesn’t hit you very well. You’re not sure how it’s received, but Eddie laughs regardless.

“Sorry about that, she slept over the night before unplanned. I should’ve remembered your yearly morning cupcake.”

“Should’ve remembered you have a girlfriend,” you answer, wishing you had that better judgment. “Did you do anything for your birthday?”

“Chris took me out for dinner with her parents.” Honestly, that sounds like it was for her more than it was for him.

“Sounds fun,” you deadpan, earning earnest chuckles from him.

“They’re an acquired taste,” Eddie offers, allowing your slight criticism of his birthday party.

“You sure you still don’t want to go to Indianapolis and bar hop?” You can’t help but ask. It’s like you can hear his reluctance to accept the celebration he got.

“Nah. Besides, we can’t risk your fake ID, after all.” He pauses, an understated sigh passing through his breath. “How has school been?”

Small talk is not often something that passes through a conversation between you two. You’re aware of it, he’s aware of it, and it turns the conversation into something almost jilted.

“I miss you,” you admit, lying back on your bed.

“I miss you,” he parrots, soft and sweet.

“Can we do something? Just you and me?”

He chuckles, low and under his breath. “Sure. Pancake night. Just you, me, and Martha’s perfume.”

…that never happened.

-

The less you see Eddie, the more you end up hanging out with Steve. He seems to want to introduce you to his own best friend, but your admission of not wanting to be a third wheel again gets him to drop it. You can’t help but notice the only times you speak to Eddie are when you call him. He hasn’t called you since asking for Chrissy to join pancake night.

That alone wouldn’t entirely convince you to not call him anymore. The jilted conversations always ending with promises of time with one another never coming to fruition. It’s the equivalent of being skinned alive, one strip at a time.

Steve has watched the circles under your eyes darken, the enthusiasm in class deplete, and the lust for life dissolve before his very eyes. To say he’s pissed at his friend is to understate it, he’s ready to tell you to give up on him and forget he exists.

Yet, Steve knows how unlike Eddie it all is. Dustin has complained he hasn’t been called back for a long time, Gareth reached out to you asking if you’d heard from Eddie lately as they haven’t rehearsed for a while. He garners more concern than anger at times.

Steve’s living room has become a new choice of hang out space, but the unnatural cleanliness of the house, the lack of cologne that both Eddie and Wayne use, the familiarity of eight years of friendship, it gives this unrelenting feeling of emptiness. It’s worth trying to fill it with edibles and weed.

It doesn’t seem to work, but you’ve become more open, more free willing with him as a direct result. He doesn’t favor horror movies like you and Eddie, but you find common ground in action and slapstick comedy, instead. Anything but romcoms, you implore. Anything even close to resembling romance is rejected.

Steve spills the latest he heard from Hawkins’ elite country club group, a bunch of ladies with nothing better to do with their afternoons than spread rumors about the population as a whole and judge them for it. Steve knows for a fact which members of the country club have side women, bringing them in hours after walking in with their own wives.

It’s so nice to be concerned with the lives of others and to not care about yours falling apart at the seams. Well, really it's being ripped apart by Chrissy Cunningham’s greedy little claws.

Ironically enough, you get paired up with Steve for a major assignment in Soc class, one required to analyze social constructs that have been deep dived in class. Another little gift of irony is you were given Social Stratification, which is the hierarchical arrangement of individuals or groups within a society based on various factors such as wealth, power, and prestige.

Being from two very different classes, you and Steve find yourself uniquely qualified to discuss the topic.

It provides opportunities to hang out together, distracted by the collective want to not work at all, but driven by an looming due date. Your mind wanders to Eddie non stop, wondering how he is, if he’s ok, if work is still giving him a hard time, did he finally get the belt he was needing, if Wayne was taking it easier.

Your fingers itch for the phone to call and ask, always haunted by the memory of each phone call, the polite conversation and empty promises. You crave to remember what it was like before.

Steve seems to act as your voice of reason, disencouraging you every time you mention wanting to call him. He sympathizes, of course, but he recalls the last time you called him and the aftermath following it.

When the assignment is finally in the last stages, making final edits to clear up any loss in conciseness, the final second guesses if the point has been made clear, you sit on the floor of Steve’s room cross legged, going cross eyed as you reread it, again.

“I can’t wait for this thing to be handed in,” you groan, throwing your pen at him.

“I think we earned a celebration,” he sighs, throwing the pen back to you. “On Friday, after we finally hand over this paper to this asshole, I am throwing a big ass party in your honor.”

“A party will not make me feel better,” you reprimand, glancing at him under your brows.

“No, but a good excuse to drink the pain away, might,” he grins, leaning forward on his stomach and kicking his legs animatedly. He looks so innocent, as if he doesn’t have his own agenda. You’ve come to know him well enough that he really doesn’t. “C’mon. Let loose with me just for one night!”

You reluctantly agree to it after he pulls out his dumb puppy eyes.

News of Steve’s party spreads fast across campus, and you find yourself curiously excited for it when you usually dread dancing with complete strangers. The strangers at this point make it better, not needing to concern yourself with anything other than how the alcohol burns.

Your dad drives you to the party, the rain heavy on the pavement making it hard to bike in such weather. He’s noticed the way you’ve shut down a little bit as of lately, more than happy to bring you to a party if it means putting some life back into the eyes of his one and only daughter.

When you enter the door with slightly damp hair just from the walk from the truck, the party is already in full swing, music overtly loud, bodies bumping and dancing, empty cups already scattered on dusty surfaces.

As soon as you see Steve, he waves you over, talking to Robin, who he’s introduced you to. She became your friend the same way he became your did; ambush. Turns out, Robin is really cool. She hands you a beer, winking as you tilt your eyebrow out of skepticism.

“Beer, really?” You ask over the music, turning the bottle around in your hand.

“You’re drinking to forget, right?” She asks, an air of wisdom in her scratchy voice. “Then what does it matter what it tastes like?”

Well, you guess she’s right. You grab another from the fridge while you’re at it before they lead you to a couch. It’s surrounded by a crowd of people you mostly have never met before, more than happy to laugh with them at the particularly stupid topics of conversation.

You’re already pretty buzzed less than an hour spent at the party, having asked Steve to get you a third bottle. “Might wanna slow down, sweets.”

“I’m drinking to forget, remember?” You ask him, winking cheekily.

Time starts to meld together as the bottle gets emptier and emptier. Robin grabs you by the hand to dance with her and Steve in a circle, top 40 pop acting as a soundtrack while you forget any goddamn trouble that might have plagued you.

You’re chatting about some mindless gossip when something tells you to turn your head towards the door. The door opens to Eddie and Chrissy, holding hands as they look around the party that got even rowdier since your arrival.

Eddie’s eyes meet yours, frozen in place as the emptiness his absence has left consumes you.

“Oh shit,” Robin mutters right next to you, but you don’t answer it as you stumble your way into the kitchen.

The internal debate on whether you need to drink water or more alcohol is roaring, so you drown it with more alcohol. Maybe you can shut it up. It’s too fucking loud. The ajar door opens and closes, a presence in the kitchen you don’t bother acknowledging. You don’t smell Eddie’s cologne, the momentary disappointment flooding your senses that he saw you and didn’t even bother talking to you.

Another sip. Another gulp. Make it go away.

“I was wondering when I would run into you,” it’s not Eddie, or Steve. Confusion takes over you as you wonder which male voice in your life you’re forgetting, turning to face the culprit.

Daniel.

“Here I am, I guess,” you mutter, taking another swig. “What exactly do you want?”

“Retribution.”

“Huh?”

He laughs, cruel and blunt. “I’m here for what I’m owed, sweetheart. I don’t get told no. Girls don’t say no to me. So, I think I’m owed some payback for the humiliation you put me through.”

What the fuck?

The laughter that leaves your throat is loud and abrupt, clearly not what he’s expecting. “Oh my fucking god, you’re just delusional. Girls don’t owe you shit for buying them dinner! You ask us out for a date, that’s on you, bud!”

“I don’t fucking think so,” he growls, slinking in closer. You can smell his breath, he’s clearly been drinking. “I will get what I want, I always do.”

Panic floods your brain, suddenly realizing he’s being dead serious. “Wait–” you protest as he leans in, the wall and your back colliding harshly. “Wait, no–”

“All you had to do was blow me, baby,” he chides, as if he’s reprimanding a small child. His hand harshly wraps around your waist, preventing you from weaving from between him and the wall. “Now look what you made me do.”

You try to push him off, panic continuing to push up your throat as he proves himself much stronger than you. Oh god, am I about to get raped in Steve’s kitchen?

His hand feels slimy as it pushes past your shirt, sending a jolt of shivers down your body. You’re shaking from fear, one cheek against the wall as you continue to resist him. “Stop– Daniel, please stop–” Your voice is frantic, eyes wide in terror as you try to push his hands away.

The harsh laughter directed at your pleas are cut off, an incredibly familiar voice slicing the air with malice. “She said stop.”

The heat you were surrounded by is thrown off, leaving the cold air behind Daniel to overwhelm you as he’s thrown onto the floor.

Blows of fists on flesh fill the room, watching in horror as Eddie has him pinned, delivering blow after blow to his face. You only see a portion of Eddie, his dark jeans and leather jacket as he hunches over his victim and blindingly delivers one punch after the other. Daniel has stopped fighting back, just a limp set of limbs as it jumps from each hit.

When Eddie has shown no signs of letting up you’re forced to jump into action, stumbling as you run into his line of eyesight. “Eddie, stop! You’re going to kill him!” You plead.

The sounds of brutal fists on soft flesh die immediately, Eddie huffing as he rises to his feet. “You okay?”

You blink as his hands frame your cheeks, petting them softly with his hands. A tear falls, splashing his hand. His concern is comforting, but the direct juxtaposition of his concern from the silence he’s fed you the last few weeks washes over you, confusing every emotion that has been hurting.

Despite the sweet shine in his eyes as they watch you, you back from his hold in a jerk reaction. “Didn’t know you still cared about me.”

He wears the hurt from this statement on his sleeve. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You wander back over to the fridge, grabbing a beer from the second six pack you’re working through. You pop it open from the mounted bottle opener, taking a handful of sips. “You’re kidding me, right? You haven’t called me in weeks. Weeks.”

He stands there, blankly watching.

“I might be more forgiving if it weren’t for Dustin and Gareth and hell, Steve also saying the same thing. None of them have heard from you. You went from calling at least once a week to radio silence! I wanted to get along with Chrissy. I really did. I started all the conversations, offering snacks, asking questions about her, letting her set her boundaries, but she had something to say about everything we did together!”

Eddie stutters, blinking as he watches you talk. He doesn’t try to talk, doesn’t try to defend himself. You don’t give him the chance.

“She clearly doesn’t respect you, otherwise you would still be my best friend and I would remember the last time we had a normal fucking conversation. I get wanting boundaries, but at this point, I don’t think she even wants you to have friends! Is that what you want? A girl who makes you make yourself smaller for her sake and isolate completely? Really? Because that’s what you have. No horror movies? No more junk food? No heavy metal music? She’s making you shrink yourself so she deems you desirable! Fucking– I can’t watch it anymore.”

“Wait, what do you mean–” he’s interrupted by the door closing, a yelp filling the room as Chrissy runs to him.

“What happened to your fists?” You glance down to them, seeing bruises lining his knuckles.

“Nothing, it’s fine. I’m fine,” he assures her, putting his hands on her shoulders.

“Alright. Well. I meant exactly what I said. I can’t do this one sided friendship thing with you anymore,” you take another swig, wondering how the bottle was already so light. “I can’t. Call me when you find my best friend, because I haven’t seen him in three months.”

You leave the room, ignoring the calls from his mouth that suffocate you. As you stumble into the living room, you catch Steve’s eye right away, chin trembling. The hot tears that trail down your face have already drenched your cheeks by the time you realize it’s even happening, choking on the emotion that drowns you.

Steve guides you into the guest bathroom, closing the door as he watches you attempt to stop the sobs long enough to tell him what happened.

“I think–” you hiccup, sniffling loudly, “I think I just lost my best friend–” tears rattle through you once again, just saying it out loud feels like lightning in its startling ability to shatter you once more.

By the time the sobs diminish again, you’re sat on the floor by the tub, head sitting in his lap as he pets your hair. You sit up suddenly, mid hiccup as you give Steve an odd look.

He almost asks if you’re okay when you spill over his lap, whimpering between gasps as you know what you’re doing, the toilet only a foot away, but it continues to explode from your stomach.

“I’m so sorry,” you explain, tears falling again, as he sits in shock.

He grins sadly, undoing his belt. “It’s fine, sweetheart.”

He finds someone, Robin, to grab him a second pair of pants, ditching the ruined pair in the bathtub.

The dry heaving seems to stop the tears, now staring blankly with a wet face and lashes that stick together. Steve brings you upstairs, wrapping his arm around your waist as he brings you to his bedroom.

As your head hits his pillow your eyes fall closed, mumbling something about fucking up, about three months ago.

Steve locks his door from any stragglers, walking down each step to find a particular metal head to give him a piece of his mind.

From how your sobs shook your body, he might give him the whole thing.

-

The light cascading through the blinds hurts, like a dagger through your brain as you take in your surroundings. You don’t know how you got into Steve’s room under his blanket.

As soon as you sit up, the pain stabs you, pushing you back down. Ow. You don’t even attempt to get up again until the urge to pee hits you, when it’s too much to ignore. You rub your eye, tip toeing to try to get back under the dark blue comforter decorating Steve’s bed.

On the corner of the bed Steve sits, one foot resting on the other knee as he holds a jade green drink. “How badly does your head hurt?”

You wince at the volume of his voice, placing your hands over your eyes. “Not great.”

He winces sympathetically, offering the smoothie. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Blurry images flash through your mind, the kitchen, Daniel, half of the second case gone. You attempt to remember past that point but it comes up blank. “I remember running into Daniel.”

As you sip on the surprisingly delicious hangover smoothie, Steve watches you, wearing a clear expression of concern.

“Anything after that?”

You can tell he’s egging you on, digging for something with an unprecedented seriousness in his tone. But there’s no memory after that. You gingerly shake your head, which sends more needles of pain through your skull.

“Why?” You ask weakly. Steve pauses, ruffling a hand through his hair as he releases a long sigh.

“You really don’t, huh?” Steve asks, one last attempt. “Maybe it’s good you drank as much as you did, then.”

“Steve, you’re scaring me.” Images of worst case scenarios course through your mind. What did you do?

Steve pats the spot on the bed next to you, double checking you don’t feel the urge to throw up. You don’t.

“Daniel tried to force himself on you.” He’s gentle, compassionate in his admission as he watches your reaction.

Huh. “How far did he–” you stutter, breath hitching as you bite back the sobs that suddenly threaten to rake through your body.

“He was interrupted before he even got that far,” he comforts you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he caresses it. “Eddie sort of bashed his face in.”

Now that you think about it, the memory of Eddie hunched over Daniel as he delivered blow after blow to his nose, his cheekbone, his eyebrow. You didn’t see the final result of Eddie’s defense, but the bruised knuckles you vaguely recall spell out how brutal the retaliation was.

Eddie.

“What–” you pause, stuttering through your breaths, “what happened after that?”

“You yelled at Eddie. Berated him. I think you even told him you didn’t want to be his friend anymore. At least, that’s what I gathered from what you told me,” he admits.

Your blood grows cold. From the weeks of silence, the jilted conversations, the slow resentment that bloomed through your stomach for him. The ache already hurt just from the absence of your best friend, but it was good for you. Fuck, this hurt.

“Is that all?”

He laughs, pulling your head into his neck. “Just that you can’t hold back your liquor.”

That’s why your breath tastes like vomit.

From the extra strength tylenol he gives you, the rest of the morning is spent helping Steve tidy up the trash around his house. Only after spending twenty minutes in the kitchen on his hands and knees scrubbing up the red stains does he allow you to help him. You only catch a glimpse of the paper towel soaked in dried blood and bleach when throwing out red solo cups, a small hint of the mess Eddie made of Daniel.

The thought of his name is a self betrayal, and you work faster once it crosses your mind.

Once the place is clean, you allow Steve to drive you home at his insistence, repeatedly asking when he pulls up to your house that you’re sure you’re okay.

Your dad is at work, not there to ask any questions you wanted to avoid from the previous night, namely why your eyes are swollen from tears. The blinds in your room fall with a trill resembling a xylophone, blocking the sun from your intense migraine.

For the first time in weeks, you’re stirred awake from sleep from the ringing of the phone on the floor that has been pushed under the bed. You let it ring.

Just as sleep pulls you back in, you’re abruptly startled as the phone alerts you again. You roll over, ignoring it as you wrap your head in your hands, curling into the pillow. No one has to get a hold of you that badly.

This person does, it seems, as they call you again. You groan, crawling over the edge as you grab the phone from your receiver. “Hello?”

You refuse the want to chew them out, to take your emotions and friendship breakup out on the person who has interrupted your sleep.

“It’s me.”

You lurch forward in your bed, still tethered to the receiver by the tightly coiled wire as it forces the receiver to scuff against the hardwood floor. Eddie.

-

Eddie’s sat on his couch, limply resting his head on the couch arm as the shrill voice of the main character complains over a problem that could be solved if she had just told someone. His hand rests on his eyes, shielding himself from the light to prevent the headache he can feel coming on. He’s given up on suggesting other movies by now, but she somehow seems to only play the movies that get on every last nerve.

He would probably be more willing to watch the romcoms in question if they weren’t the bottom of the pack. Last time Eddie even suggested a romcom he actually doesn’t completely hate he had to hear about it for an agonizing twenty minutes. Fine. She could watch her movie, he can practice on his guitar, right?

You would think.

So he dissociates and focuses on the gentle petting of his calf as he rests his leg on her lap. His mind floats to his best friend, how much he misses the smell of your shampoo, or when you make fun of the cheesier horror movies he loves to watch. If Chrissy wouldn’t make a near temper tantrum every time your name is mentioned in conversation, he would’ve called you weeks ago. He missed your voice.

Chrissy continues to insist that you like him, that you’re trying to steal him from her. It turned into many fights where Eddie felt like he was losing his mind, insisting he just wanted to see his best friend. There is a stubborn, immovable force still holding hope that something will just click one day and realize just how wrong she is. There’s a little nagging part of him, eating at his brain, warning that it probably won’t ever come true.

The possibility is almost too much for him to mentally handle, because when it blows up in his face and you decide not to forgive his radio silence, he doesn’t think he will be able to handle the absence in his life. So he procrastinates the detonation.

“I’m surprised you’re not going to Steve’s party,” Chrissy chirps, interrupting Eddie’s disarray.

Eddie blinks, trying to recall any mention of a party that might’ve slipped his mind. That might’ve been the reason for his ignorance if he could remember the last time he even spoke to Steve. He’s sure Chrissy knows that.

“I didn’t even know he was having one.”

She grabs at the extra material of his jeans, pulling his attention. “Did you want to go?”

He mentally rattles through the mechanics of going to Steve’s stupidly large house, knowing damn well his distance has managed to drive you straight into the arms of someone new, even if it’s only platonic. You’ll be there, the chance much more likely than not.

He wants to see your face, even if it’s in passing. He wonders if Chrissy sees you there if she’ll decide to leave early or just avoid you altogether. But it’s just the chance that drives him to agree.

By the time he gets there, vehicles have already littered the streets surrounding his house, some even audaciously blocking his neighbor’s driveways. Chrissy’s hand is in his as he walks in, anxiously looking around the party for you.

He peers into the living room, to the couch containing members of some of Steve’s closer acquaintances and it wasn’t long until he saw you, sitting right next to Robin holding the bottleneck of a beer bottle.

Your eyes are already on his, wide and still as you stare at him. You’re even prettier than he remembered, any polaroid he’s ever had of you does absolutely no justice to your radiant smile or vibrant eyes.

Fine, you’re staring at him like you would rather be anywhere else for the moment, panic flooding your features, but it’s a breath of fresh air for him compared to his last few suffocating weeks. As you stumble to your feet, Eddie tricks himself into believing that you’ve gotten up to talk to him until you pass the front entrance straight into the kitchen.

He supposes he deserves that, fading as Chrissy tugs him to the dance floor. His hands find her hips, allowing himself to get lost in the relentlessly catchy pop tune. He can’t help but allow his eyes to float back over to the couch every now and then, something in him carnally needing making sure that you’re safe.

Alarm bells go off, goosebumps trailing over his skin as something in him screams that you’re in danger. You could very much just be avoiding him, which he wouldn’t blame you for, not for one moment, but he wouldn’t forgive himself if he found out his worry had any footing.

“Babe, I’m gonna grab a drink,” he mutters, blankly kissing her sweet scented blonde hair before his long legs take him to the kitchen.

His stomach drops as your voice fills the kitchen, asking the asshole with wandering hands to stop as he forces himself on you.

The next thing he knows, Daniel is under him, his back slammed on the floor with a face scrunched up in pain as Eddie’s fists are flying. His fists, his jeans, the floor, the whining little shit’s face, it all gets painted with blood.

Eddie doesn’t realize when the pair of arms stop trying to push him off, or when the green eyes no longer stare at him in horror, shut from the trauma of one blunt hit after the other. He just continually bashes his face in for even daring to attempt to force himself on the woman he loves.

Fuck this guy. Fuck him.

Eddie’s blind with rage, but he’s also blind with his own regret.

Your voice cuts through the anger, a warning that seeps in his brain like a sponge. If he keeps hitting him like this he will end up taking his life.

He stands up, facing your trembling form as you seem to be in shock. You melt in his hold, tears spilling over his hands as he caresses you, doing his very best to take care of you. He knows the answer when he asks, but he has to hear it from you.

Finally, the words seem to sober you from wanting his comfort to the hurt that you’ve felt from his silence. You lurch yourself from him, staggering blindly to the fridge as you grab another beer. The scent was harsh on your breath, the sight of you glugging back as much as you can sends jolts through his system.

Then you tell him everything. And he deserves it. He wants so badly to tell you how badly he wanted to call you, but the excuses sound lame even in his own mind.

When you tell him you’re done is when he finally snaps out of his own trance. He knows what you mean, but surely, you don’t really mean it? Before he can ask, Chrissy comes into the picture, doting over his bruised knuckles, ignoring you completely as she asks what happened. He’s fine. He’s not, but he’ll say anything to get back to what you were just saying.

Choked back sobs escape as you tell him with absolute finality that you are done, tripping over your own feet when you leave through the kitchen door.

No, this has gone too far. Eddie hasn’t had a single drop of alcohol but feels as if he’s wasted from stumbling after you, blocked by his girlfriend.

That conversation goes as well as can be expected.

In the hours following, he doesn’t seem to find you anywhere. But without Chrissy trailing after him, he finds himself free to converse with friends he’d missed, meeting their snide remarks of coming back to the land of the living with grace. Eddie stays for hours, half heartedly partaking in any conversation he finds himself witness to just in case you make another appearance.

Steve walks down the stairs after what feels like forever, wearing a grim look on his face. Eddie approaches him. “Hey have you seen–”

“She’s upstairs,” Steve answers, sighing. “Passed out. She’ll wake up tomorrow morning.”

“Is she okay?”

“Didn’t choke on her own vomit, at least,” Steve quips, his voice harsh. “Physically, she’s okay.”

Steve moves to walk around Eddie, seemingly done with the conversation.

“Physically?”

Steve sighs, angry, frustrated. “She just sobbed on the bathroom floor for an hour and a half, Ed. I literally watched her heart break! Safe to say, I don’t think she’s doing so well emotionally.”

“Fuck,” Eddie mutters, feeling hopeless, like he should’ve been there to take care of you instead of being the cause of your suffering. “Steve, I–”

“Listen, Eddie. I just heard a bunch of shit from her that I’m not even sure she knows that she said. Other than her I guess telling you to fuck off, what else happened?”

Eddie gulps, not exactly wrapping his own mind around it, yet. “I found Daniel Moore trying to force himself on her.”

“Jesus,” Steve mutters, passing Eddie straight into the kitchen.

“Steve–” Eddie tries to stop him, or warn him at least, wondering how no one else has seen him, yet. There is almost no reason for most to make their way into the kitchen as the drinks station is in the living room, but usually a straggler or two, especially couples would make their own way in. He’s definitely not up and partying from the blood that seeped through the shirt he was wearing…

Should Eddie have called the ambulance?

“What the fuck–” Steve barks, taking in the crumpled form before him. “Jesus, Eddie, what happened?”

“You listen to your best friend beg someone to stop assaulting them and not beat the shit out of him?” Eddie retaliates, watching as Steve double checks to make sure he’s still breathing.

“Well, now I gotta get him out of here before someone has you fucking arrested,” Steve mutters, wracking his brain through old morally questionable friends of his that would help with no questions asked. Fuck. He has a few favors to call in. “Where’s Chrissy gone?”

“How the fuck should I know?” Eddie spits.

“Considering she has control over who you’re allowed to spend time with, probably somewhere nearby with binoculars,” Steve mutters, a fragment of seriousness in the joke.

“Well, not anymore,” Eddie shrugs, feeling surprisingly pragmatic about it.

“Oh.” Took you long enough, Steve thinks. “I’m gonna get him out of here, but I suggest you do the same.”

“Can I stay? I wanna be here when she wakes up.” His eyes pleading to Steve.

Steve’s brows raise. “Respectfully Eddie, I don’t think she really wants to see you.”

“I haven’t been able to tell her anything for weeks, I’m staying!” he insists, crossing his arms like a petulant child.

Steve shakes his head, leaning on the counter. God, he wished he hadn’t invited a few dozen people to come to his house for the night. “God, you’re an idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re an idiot. You’re both idiots, but, man I think you’re the bigger one.” Steve walks around the kitchen island, getting unreasonably close to him. “I don’t know if you’re blind, or just selectively ignorant. She loves you, dude! She was willing to support you getting a girlfriend, but then you just shut her out. It’s gonna take more than an apology to be back in her good graces. When she wakes up with a killer hangover, I think the last person she’ll want to see is you. God, if one of you just made the jump years ago this never would’ve happened!”

Eddie’s heart drops at Steve’s angry words, refusing to believe any of his feelings for his best friend are reciprocated. “Sure, because three months of friendship tell you everything you need to know about a person.”

Steve chuckles, walking over the snoring asshole as he steps out to the living room. “I would have to be blind not to see it. She talked about you one time about this stupid fucking movie she watched with you and I could tell. Rather than telling your girlfriend that you have a best friend and she has to get over it, you shut her out. For weeks. And left someone else to pick up the pieces.”

“Steve, I know. I know I was being an ass–”

“Then why didn’t you stop? Why didn’t you give her a call? You had to know she wasn’t going to forgive you so easily–”

“Of course I fucking knew that, Steve! Why do you think I put off letting it explode in my face?”

“Because you’re an idiot! She loved you. She loves you! If you can’t see that then I really don’t know what to tell you. Listen, if you call her tomorrow, I’m not all that sure what would happen. It’s gonna be a while before she’s ready to forgive, bud. For now. Maybe you should go.”

-

“Oh,” you sigh, hugging your knees into your chest, feeling small. A war rages in your mind. You were hurt enough by him to break your friendship off with him, but you don’t even remember it. The other side of you just wants to be close to him again, willing to sink into the apologies that he owes you and happily accept them.

But you shouldn’t. And you know you shouldn’t.

“Do you wanna come over for a movie?”

You want to come over and watch a movie so badly, it wraps around you and constricts your airflow. “Will she be there?”

“No. Just me and you. I promise,” Eddie swears, voice low enough that it resembles a whisper. “She won’t be, uh, crashing our movie nights anymore.”

You diminish the pulse of hope that threatens to bloom. “What do you mean?”

Eddie sighs. “I was hoping to tell you in person, but we broke up last night…come over, I’ll tell you more. I just need my best friend…and a horror movie…and junk food, god, I miss junk food.”

You miss him so much it hurts. “I’ll be there in an hour.”

The bike ride sends pulses through your head, worsening the ache of the hangover. If the pain isn’t gone by tomorrow, you might just ask someone to shoot an arrow through your head to put you out of your misery.

It’s been more than long enough since the last time you were on his front door step, nervous as you hesitate to knock. Eddie’s footsteps are rapid and loud as soon as your knuckles hit the door, the opening to him, wide eyes, graphic t-shirt and pair of sweatpants. He appears unlike himself, almost tired. You wonder if you noticed it last night.

Before either one of you says a word, he tugs you in, wrapping his arms around you in an embrace in his scent. Overwhelming emotion takes over, his shirt absorbing the tears that fall. He feels like home, every part of him. His scent, the muscles flexing under your grasp, his steady breaths.

“I missed you,” he mutters, his voice low, choked, even.

Then why didn’t you call me? “Me too–” you whimper, squeezing onto him even tighter. You sniffle, curling your head into his neck.

The hug lasts forever, or at least long enough for your arms to become numb.

Your butt lands on the couch, the spot that was once permanently marked by you now weirdly lumpy from the lack of use. Did Chrissy know she was allowed to sit in her own seat on the odd occasion? On the coffee table, Eddie has already prepared the popcorn and your favorite snacks, only your favorite snacks. Three movies are laid out, all awaiting their turn in the VCR.

“What’s this?” You ask, rubbing your nose from the snot.

“Uh, three movies. Pick one.”

You read the titles, Back to the Future, Friday the 13th, and Labyrinth. “What happened to wanting to watch horror movies?”

“I have a lot of sucking up to do before I get to be picky with our movie night,” Eddie answers, his voice gentle and careful. “Pick one.”

If he says so, then you’ll have to pick your favorite, rather than his favorite. “Alright, then, Labyrinth it is. David Bowie in leather pants, here I come!”

As the movie plays, a teenage girl desperate to find her brother, you sink into the comfort of the ratty old couch. Through Eddie, you found out that the rattiest couches are actually the most comfy. The more tears and rips, the better. Eddie stands up, running to the kitchen to grab fresh cans of soda from the fridge.

He sits back down, handing you a Diet Coke while popping open his own. Two things you notice when he sits. One, he’s remarkably close, his ass nearly planted in between the cushions. Two–

“Since when did you start drinking diet coke?” You ask him, wincing at the aftertaste.

“Since Chrissy was such a stickler for sugar,” he answers casually, grabbing a bite of the popcorn.

His simple tone, emotionless and understated, squeezes your heart. “What happened with her, anyway?”

Chrissy blocked him, staring at him with wide eyes as she held his shoulders. “What–what is going on?”

“I need a minute,” he stuttered, attempting to walk around her.

“Did you do that?” Chrissy asked, pointing to the lifeless piece of shit on the floor.

“Chris, it’s really not a good time, right now. I will tell you later, I promise. I’ll be right back.” Eddie promised.

She blocked him again, hands pushing on his broad shoulders. “You’re not seriously thinking of going after her, are you?”

“Chrissy, she’s my best friend! That creep just tried– I have to go check up on her, make sure she’s okay!”

“You mean the girl who is pathetically in love with you?” Chrissy asked, belligerent and full of sass. “Sure, go and give her more false hope! She was practically all over you at the diner, mooning over you, desperate to take you out on a date, I mean, don’t give her fucking hope!”

Eddie sighed, rubbing his face angrily. “I don’t know how many times I need to fucking tell you, Chris. She is just my friend. She was being nice, trying to include you. I’m so fucking tired of this conversation!”

“So am I!” Chrissy crossed her arms, popping her hip out. It was times like these Eddie was absolutely sure of why Chrissy and Jason dated for so long. “You know what? Fine. Me or her.”

“What?” Eddie was unsure if she was being serious.

“Pick! Me or her? Because when you pick me maybe then she’ll get the fucking hint!”

It was the easiest decision he’s ever made in his life. “Her.”

Eddie finishes explaining it, mostly nixxing the parts where she berated you or talked shit. You just needed to know the part where she practically had a temper tantrum.

“Wow,” you mutter, remembering how you called Chrissy sweet when they first started dating. “And…you, you picked me?”

“Of course I did.” Eddie pops a kernel into his mouth, leaning back into the couch. His body heat is warm, his scent intoxicating. “You’re my best friend.”

“You haven’t called in weeks, Eddie.” It comes out quietly, the hurt overflowing in your body and pouring out your mouth. “I thought you had a new best girl.”

Eddie sighs, grabbing your hand. “If I could take back the last three months, I would. I-I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“I missed you so fucking badly,” you admit, focusing on how your hand feels intertwined with his.

“I missed you. I know– I fucked up, but believe me when I say, I missed you so fucking much.”

On one hand, it’s hard to believe him. It seemed like it was so easy for him to cut you off. On the other, the glint in his eyes, his thumb caressing the back of your hand, gentle and unequivocally vulnerable.

Eddie leans forward, connecting his forehead to yours. “I will make it up to you, I promise.”

“You have a lot of making up to do, mister,” you inform him, pulling away from him to lightly nudge his hair.

“And a million strawberry mountains covered in strawberry sauce,” he answers, kissing your forehead softly.

“You really had me worried,” you admit, taking a good look at his face. “I believe you when you say that you missed me, but Eds, you hurt me. I want to trust you, but–”

His movement is swift as he grabs your face with his hands, pulling you in close. “I know, baby, I know.” The pet name takes your breath away, music to your unsuspecting ears. The name wraps itself around your like a warm hug, melting all those months of worry and panic away. “I’m so fucking sorry, if I could just–”

Maybe it wasn’t the right timing, months of silence, unanswered questions, hurt, but all that just conveniently disappears the moment his lips touch yours. You startle, jerking backwards as you look at him curiously, looking for something that’ll tell you he’s not kissing you out of pity, or obligation.

You’re met with the exact way that he always looks at you, but this time, it’s radiant. How did you miss it this whole time? You smile, wrapping your hand behind his neck as you tug him in, entangling his lips with yours and chasing that emotion that ran through you the first time.

Eddie meets your kiss with enthusiasm, grinning madly as he pulls you in closer, your body flush against his as he pulls you down with him.

It’s maddeningly enchanting, the way you can taste his minty breath and his hums against your lips, buzzing and tickling. His tongue sweeps along your bottom lip, pulling a gasp as you happily meet his with yours. Your skin feels electric as his hand sneaks under your shirt, as if he’s just getting the feel of you.

You sigh, curling your arm around his neck to pull him impossibly closer. His kisses trail along your jawline, down your neck, pressing sweet kisses down your jugular. “You taste like strawberries,” he mutters, audibly smiling. “I should’ve known, all those damn strawberries you eat.”

“Before we go any further,” you gasp, clutching at his t-shirt, “and believe me, I want to, you owe me a proper date.”

“Taking you out for a date, baby?” He places more rapid kisses on your neck, letting himself absorb your laughter. “God, I’m lucky.”

-

You’ve learned one thing for absolute certainty, Eddie Munson knows how to grovel. Between the many kisses you’ve shared that night you tell Eddie with surety that just because he knows how to kiss doesn’t mean he’s suddenly forgiven. Eddie relishes in that, grinning just because you’re kissing him.

The previous night he was losing his mind at his ex-girlfriend’s terrible movie choices, and you, his best friend, the person who has always known him best, you’re finally here kissing him. You could ask him to write a 1000-page apology letter entirely in rhymes or haikus and he would do it heartbeat, but all he’s required to do is prove it?

He’s more than willing.

When the date is proposed, he swears he would love to take you anywhere. He provides a list, with all of the restaurants you know he can’t afford. When you ask him and inquire about such, he shrugs casually. There’s a silent question there, wondering if Chrissy had even considered his wallet size before their date nights.

Instead, you answer with, “Our first date should be the diner, no?”

You’ve never been so nervous before, looking through your small arsenal of date night dresses. He’s seen all of them, whether from a school dance or the aftermath of a date gone sour. One dress catches your attention, at the very back of your closet covered in plastic, just waiting for the right time.

White, with blue flowers hand embroidered on the bodice, a sweetheart neckline and bubble gum pink ribbons tied together as the straps. Periwinkle blue that bleeds into mint green leaves along the hemline, fanned out into a hoopskirt. You’ve stared at this dress when it sat in your mom’s closet, asking when it might be your turn to finally wear it.

The dress fits you like a glove, looking remarkably close to the photo on the easel downstairs, a first date 25 years ago that ended up being one of your favorite bedtime stories.

As you finally make your way down the stairs, hair half up in curls in a ribbon matching the ones on the dress, your dad looks at you with pride and glossy eyes. Whispered words of the resemblance as he hugs you, eyes too tired for a man in his forties from loss and stress, a whiff of gratitude hits you.

It’s a warm spring evening, no need for a coat as the van pulls up with the usual melodies of heavy metal and drumming. You make your way down the sidewalk to his passenger side, butterflies erupting as you open the door.

The volume is turned down to a background noise, the heavy metal feeling oddly out of place at such a low volume. “Hi, sunshine.”

You grab his hand, petting at his calloused skin. “Hi.”

You feel his eyes on you, taking in the dress that is on its first night out in decades. “I don’t know how you show up looking this good and expect me to act normal.”

You grin, pressing a kiss to his shoulder and sniffing at the leather. He can’t say shit like that and expect you to go on like normal. “C’mon. I haven’t had a strawberry milkshake in ages.”

You open the window just a crack, appreciating the scent of fresh grass in the spring. New beginnings, fresh starts, rebirth. It seems oddly poetic.

He pulls up to the diner, bright neon lights against an evening sunset. It looks as if it’s painted, yellow into orange into blue. A lonely diner isolated sitting against a watercolor sky, but one of your favorite places in the world.

The bell ringing feels like an old song you haven’t heard in years, bringing some bittersweet nostalgia.

Martha perks up, the diner even deader than normal with only a lone man sitting on a bar chair holding a milkshake like a beer. The comparison sends a gag reflex through your body, never wanting to even smell another beer in your lifetime. As you sit next to Eddie, in such close proximity that the other side of the booth is useless, Martha appears with a cheeky smile on her face.

“If you two aren’t on a date, I’ll eat my notebook,” she sighs, hands on her hips as if she’s chastising two kids.

You and Eddie glance to one another, debating on fucking with her. It’s all the approval she needs.

“Finally! If you came in my diner again with those puppy dog eyes of yours I would’ve about had it with you two. Now, are you getting your regulars again?”

Eddie’s arm curls around your shoulders, his thumb petting the bare skin of your shoulder. “I’m disappointed you haven’t already brought the milkshake, Martha.”

“Smartasses. The both of you!” She walks off, a brand new pep in her step.

His thumb turns under your chin, pulling your face towards his. “C’mere. I need to make up for the times I just wanted to kiss those pretty lips in this booth of ours.”

“Why didn’t you?” You ask him, breathless as you stare at his eyes.

“I didn’t think the prettiest girl I know would want to kiss a goofball like me,” he chuckles, self deprecating and vulnerable.

You shake your head sadly, sighing happily. “You are so wrong.”

His chuckles are interrupted by your kiss, clutching onto the cotton t-shirt clinging onto his chest. It’s like you to forget how to breathe, taking the moment to take a deep breath before kissing him deeper, harder.

Your tongues meet, wrapping together with his and leaning forward to be as close to him as possible. His hand lands on your thigh, petting it roughly as he teases you. You hated yourself, hated how you told him you wanted to wait, because it’s becoming too much. The need for him sits deep in your stomach and begs you for any resolve from his teasing hands.

His kisses keep you only so satiated, whimpering by the time your make out sessions are done and ready to beg him to touch you already.

The glass of pinky sweetness hits the table, interrupting his electric lips on yours. “If you two do it, at least have the decency to take it to the bathroom like every other patron.”

You yelp, avoiding Martha’s eyes as Eddie tugs you in against his chest, kissing your temple. “Yes ma’am,” Eddie obeys, saluting with two fingers. Two, very distracting fingers.

You take a sip, humming. After weeks, you will proudly proclaim that this is still the best milkshake in town.

Eddie kisses your cheek, pulling you even closer. “If you lick that whipped cream off your finger, so help me god.”

It’s a habit of yours, one you’ve done at least once a visit just to get a taste of it before it sinks into the milkshake. The numerous times you’ve done it sinks in, unknowingly teasing him. “Something wrong with tasting whipped cream, Eds?”

“When you do it with that tongue of yours, yes,” he mutters, nipping on your jawline.

“Why don’t you have a taste,” you hum, taking a scoop with your pinky, licking it up.

Eddie pulls you in, humming as his tongue reaches out for yours to grab a taste of the cream melting fast in your mouth. He pulls back all too soon, eyes fluttering shut as he tuts his tongue. “Mmm. Yum. Thanks, baby.”

The milkshake is nearly gone by the time Martha rolls around again, pancakes and waffles in hand, interrupting soft conversation and sweet nothings.

He finally tries a taste of your pancakes, eating from the fork you offer him. His face winces, screwing up as he chews on it. “That strawberry sauce is sweet, ain’t it?”

“A little sour, I guess, but it’s my favorite. The fresh strawberries are a nice little addition.” You tell him, cutting up the pancakes.

“I’ll stick to my sprinkles,” Eddie mutters, dipping a piece of the big fluffy waffle in the whip. “They are the best.”

“I have a question,” you mutter, relishing in the taste of the sweet strawberry sauce. “How-how long have you liked me? Was it more recent, or have you liked me for years?”

Eddie smirks, placing a stand of hair over your shoulder. “Years.” He chokes back the correction of the word like, cause it’s so much more. “The first time I saw you, you were giving one of the football dicks hell for picking on one of the scrawny little freshmen. And I mean, berating him. You’re shy, baby, but not when it comes to others.” He pauses, chewing thoughtfully. “I knew from that moment.”

Oh. It was a handful of months before you found yourself sitting by the hellfire table, shaking your head at their antics. Plus, Gareth was just plain wrong in his opinion, you shook your head disapprovingly as you dug your nose in the book. Eddie caught on to it, demanding you join their group and inform him of how wrong he was. You did. You didn’t realize how charming Eddie was, how welcoming and genuinely kind.

It took your breath away, especially how gorgeous he was. The crush was kindled from then on, only being nurtured as you continued to debate him and his friends on their nerd culture.

Eddie followed up with the same question, asking how long ago for you, too. You tell him that very story, of how he enamored you just from being around him.

“You know, by then I was already head over heels for you,” he admits casually, sipping the last of the milkshake. “Something about sticking it to the man just does that to a guy.”

“Those dimples of yours are a weapon.” You admit in kind, and he laughs. You drop your jaw incredulously. “They’re a weapon! You think your hands are the only things those girls call magic?”

Eddie leans in, hot breath on your ear sending ripples down your neck. “And have you thought about these magic hands of mine, sweetheart?”

You gulp, licking your lips as your heart races in your chest. “Maybe...” You say softly.

He hums, tentatively kissing your skin. He really shouldn’t be doing this in a public space, you think, attempting not to wiggle at the uncomfortable feeling of arousal pooling in your panties. “I can’t wait to show you just how magic they are.”

You hold back a whimper, choking on it as your eyes flutter shut at his tentative kisses.

“Let’s get out of here, shall we?” You nod, watching as he places the right amount of bills with a decent tip for Martha.

On your way out the door, Martha shouts her goodbyes, happily yelling out her congratulations as the glass door slams behind you. Eddie’s lips find a home on the back of your hand, holding it as he kisses loudly, tickling the skin.

The trailer sits alone in the park, all lights off as he pulls up. With the turn of a key, his arm wraps around your waist as you walk in sync. It’s familiar as you help him turn on the lights, domestic, even. His jacket is off, tossed on the couch as he tugs you by the hand towards his room.

You’ve thought about it so many times, whisking away into his room with him to devour him completely. Usually it occurs when you’re mad stoned, happy and horny, but too blizted to make a move.

Your hands curtain the back of his neck, thumbs petting the nape of his neck and tangling themselves in his curls, rubbing in small circles. His lips connect to yours, stumbling over dirty laundry as he guides you to his bed. “Hmm, strawberries.”

He yelps as lands on his back, laughing as you collide with an oof. The playful moment is quickly replaced with intensity, staring down into his brown eyes, darkened by desire. Across the years of being his friend, he’s darkened his eyes in many moments, right before he decides to pin you down and tickle you senseless or when you talk down on yourself.

There were moments when his intense gaze took you aback, mostly when you innocently used too much enthusiasm in eating ice cream or put your hair up in a ponytail.

Or when you wore a sundress that sat a bit too high on your thigh.

All these moments suddenly make sense, filling you with a gust of emotion as you grab at him, tugging him harshly for a kiss much more powerful than you knew you had in you. He gasps into it, deep and desperate against your lips as you pull him closer. One of his hands travels downward, hiking under your skirt and grabbing at your thigh, your knee pulled up against his stomach.

Eddie turns you over on your back, hands grabbing at the skin harshly, his rings pressing at your skin hard enough to create an indent. Your leg wrapped around his waist tugs him down, his chest landing on yours.

“Question, my love,” Eddie mutters, words intertwined with his kisses. “Why the hell haven’t I seen this dress until now, it’s…oh my god.”

You grin against his lips, pushing your hands past his cotton shirt. “Waiting for a special occasion.”

“You telling me I could’ve seen this ages ago, baby?” He gasps, wrapping your tongue against his, delicate but enough to make you mewl into his mouth.

“Probably.”

He nips your lip, a punishment for your cheekiness. “It’ll look better on the floor.”

Your hips grind up, meeting the bulge in his pants just right. “You can’t say stuff like that–” you gasp, arms wrapping around his neck to hold on to him pathetically.

“You have no idea the things I’ve wanted to say to you.” His hand travels further up, passing the waistline of your panties and spreading on the skin of your tummy. “All the things I’ve held back…”

The admission is thrilling and terrifying, giving you almost everything you’ve ever wanted.

Now if you could get that bike you wanted for Christmas when you were twelve…

“Can you tell me now?” you ask, smiling up at his pretty, bewildered face.

“Hmm, patience,” he tuts, using his hand to explore. “Right now I just really want to touch your pussy, please, baby, please.”

It’s your turn for bewilderment. He’s acting like touching you is this great honor, instead of a means to an end like anyone else you’ve slept with. “Uh, yeah, I want that. I really, really want that.”

Eddie sighs, using his traveling hand and dipping it under the waistband of your panties. As his best friend, you’ve gotten so comfortable around him, arguably too much. Late nights in his room with a t-shirt and panties as his room fills with smoke. Eddie is only human, appreciating them too much as as you sat cross legged with the strip just a tad too thin for what it was supposed to cover.

This particular pair is decorated in lace up the front, a sheer lace for the bum, a light blue to match the flowers. His fingers latch to your pussy, delicately moving them up and down the folds.

“Oh my god,” he sighs, playing with the slick and spreading it. “You’re so wet, all this…all this for me?”

He adds more pressure, rubbing small circles and watching you throw your head back and melt in the heat that spreads across your thighs and takes form in a tremble, in a shake. “F-feels good.”

“Yeah?” he asks, placing his thumb on your clit and rotating it in tiny circles. “You like the way I play with your pussy, baby?”

You frantically nod, grinding up against him. “Need..need more. Please? More?”

“What does more mean?” He leans in, decorating your neck with sucks and bites and licks. “You want me to lick it, baby? You need my fingers, you already beggin’ for my cock? C’mon my girl, use your words.”

You might just beg for his cock, but you don’t want it to be over so quickly. “Want–want your fingers, Eds.”

He giggles, planting a nice wet kiss on your lips. “That’s my girl.” He doesn’t wait a second, curling one finger past your entrance and pumping it slowly, building a slow momentum that pulls at your stomach. He sighs, husky and deep, “Fuck, it’s so tight.”

He removes his finger without warning, not commenting on the moan in disappointment that escapes your mouth. He sits up, grabbing at the waistline as he tugs them down your legs, slowly, carefully, savoring in the moment. He lifts up the skirt, exposing the landing strip that sits waiting for his eyes.

“Did you decorate your pussy just for me? It looks so pretty… Thank you, baby girl,” Eddie is borderline emotional in his gratitude, showering you with praises.

Your legs attempt to close back together in embarrassment from his intense stare. He notices it, pushing your legs back down. “Do me a favor, won’t you? Keep these legs open while I eat your pussy.”

You drench your thighs, turned on even from the mere idea of being with him. “Mmkay.”

“You–” he gasps, delicately licking at the mound. “You taste so good. Wanted to bury my face in this little cunt for so long.”

His hands lift your thighs up and over his shoulder. His mouth tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing, listening to the cues you give him through your quivers and whines. The dress is completely covering his face, hiding the man that is eating you out, slowly and carefully, as if wanting to taste every drop of arousal you feed him.

Before long, your legs start shaking in his hold from the pleasure that has your hands tangled in your hair, eyes squeezed tight as he pulls whine after whine from you. One finger slides right back in, facing no resistance, sucking on your clit simultaneously. That arches your back and curls your toes, gasping from his build up, his words, god just from the years of mental torture.

You cum against his lips without warning, for him or yourself, twitching around his fingers and crying out his name.

He coaxes you through it, kissing your pretty pussy lips gently until your legs stop convulsing. Sweat beads on your forehead, spreading on your back and neck and making the thick fabric of the dress too hot. You untie each ribbon, desperately grabbing at the neckline to pull it up and off.

He kisses up your torso, laughing as you get stuck with the dress half off. One heel digs in his back in retaliation, whining as you gesture to him to help you. “I’m sorry, you’re just so cute.” Eddie giggles.

You whine, kicking your legs for him to hurry up. Your hair is stuck in your dress. It lifts over your head, a light bra covering your tits acting as a tease for him. The dress lands on the floor, nice and splayed out as it’s done its purpose.

You roll your eyes, tugging him in for a desperate kiss by the neck, wandering hands moving south to tug at his t-shirt. “Wanna see you, too,” you confess, helping him rid of his shirt. “Show me those tattoos.”

“You like the tatties?” You nod enthusiastically although you know he’s just teasing you. “Oh, I bet ya do. Probably ogled them while I wasn’t lookin’ huh?”

With a chest like his, you don’t imagine he could blame you. You let your eyes speak for you, raking over his covered chest and openly staring. “Wanna suck your cock.” You look up at him with big doe eyes, silently begging.

Eddie’s eyes widen at your admission, groaning as you start to undo his jeans. “Fuck, I don’t know if I’ll last that long…I need to be buried in you, wanna feel that pussy around my cock.”

You gulp, wrapping your legs around his torso so his jeans meet your pussy, probably drenching a wet spot on the front. “Me too…but I remember you said you didn’t really get reciprocated very much.” You inhale, gathering courage. “I remember thinking how I’d love to spend hours with your cock down my throat.”

Eddie keels over you, curling his face in your neck as he whimpers. “You were holding that back from me?” He punches the mattress right next to your head, a mild temper tantrum. “What other depraved thoughts have you been hiding from me?”

“You want me to tell you, or show you?” You’re not sure where this surge of confidence is coming from, but you’re running with it, especially if it means you can hear him make that sound again.

“Sh-show me- want you to show–” he nods, whimpering into your neck and shuddering.

“Mmkay,” you muse, smirking at just how easily the shoe falls on the other foot. “Get on your back.”

He complies promptly, wrapping his arm around the small of your back and turning the two of you over. You straddle him, grabbing at his chest carefully as you plant kisses all the way down his lean torso. You bring teeth into the mix, sucking and biting and marking your territory.

You’ve been itching to do so since he showed up one morning with bruises decorating his neck, claiming his hookup got a little too eager.

I'll show you eager, you begrudgingly think, wishing that all the boys were teasing him from bruises you gave him, instead. God, there was one planted on his collarbone that was excessively large, annoyingly so.

You mark your way down his chest, his stomach, lapping greedily at his treasure trail as he whimpers at your enthusiasm. This is power, you think to yourself, wondering what other noises you could conjure from him. As your mouth moves, so do your hands, undoing his belt slowly, taking your time as you unzip his fly.

The evidence of his arousal is strikingly clear, his boxers bulging out of the open fly and begging for your attention. While your subtle glances downward gave you an inkling of his size, his hardened cock presenting itself to you, even disguised in its plaid wrapping, had you letting out a gasp in unbridled lust.

You wrap your hand around it, gleaming as he hisses, a hushed swear passing through his lips. You watch his face, observing him as you place your lips on the covered shaft, just letting him feel the heat of your breath on it. “Oh, fuck–” Eddie chokes, letting out harsh shudders.

The sight of his face is borderline angelic, all of his walls down as he focuses on you. You can’t help but smile at that, at how you desperately wished for nights like these, only paying attention to one another. You poke your tongue out, drenching the cotton fabric with your spit, working your way down the length.

At his little whines, you finally curl his fingers under his waistband, drooling at the taut cock that pops out, giving you a friendly hello, swaying from the spring. You smile ear to ear, delicately wrapping your hand around the base.

You kiss the tip, lapping at the pearl of precum that gives the clear indication of his arousal, as if his hard on wasn’t enough. “Mmm,” you hum at the salty taste, leaning in to suck every last drop from his flushed tip.

You let the saliva that has pooled on the surface of your tongue drool onto his cock, spreading it down the shaft, absorbing the moan he rewards you with. “Shit, that feels–oh my god.”

You smile with pride, finally taking him into your mouth, enthusiastically bobbing up and down on his length. Your eyes remain on his, watching him as his face melts, committing it to memory.

“Oh, Jesus,” he swears, hips rutting up, clawing further into your mouth. You take him in further, gagging on it as you wrap your tongue around it experimentally, choking loudly and purposely. “Ch-choke on it, yeah, ch-ohmy god, just like that–”

Your hand moves in rhythm with your mouth, slobbery sounds of spit on flesh, his and yours, deliciously wet. He tenses up beneath you, whines growing more desperate, moans huskier, deeper. It’s a marvelous melody, one no composer could make even if they tried their hardest.

“St-st-stop,” he stutters, curling over himself, writhing under you. “Stop–I-I’m gonna cum.”

Reluctantly you listen, lifting your head off him with a pop and cheekily smiling at his heaving chest. You crawl upward, yelping as he wraps his arm around the small of your back and tugs you in for a kiss, more powerful, wrapped in an unnamed emotion you couldn’t possibly let yourself be delusional enough to define as. The one hand crawled up your back undoes the clasp of your bra, tugging it off your arms and flinging it across the room.

“Gimme those tits,” Eddie sighs, kneading them in his hands and toying with the flesh and nips. “Oh, they’re so pretty, baby. I love them, I‘ve wanted to play with them for so long.”

Eddie’s legs move under you, kicking off his jeans while holding you close to his chest. You sit up, tugging him up with you as you hover just over him.

His skin directly on yours, close and toe curling as you straddle his lap, arms wrapped around his neck as you stare into his eyes. There’s a glow in them, eyebrows relaxed as he holds your hips, staring up at you with such enamour. “Want your cock,” it’s only a whisper, but loud in the intimacy between you two. “I want you.”

His brows furrow, only a moment. The thought passes through him quick as a flash, but you see it.

“What was that?”

He smiles, relieved and tender. “I’ve wanted you for so long.” He leans in, pressing kisses on your clavicle, your neck, your shoulder, the swell of your breast. “Not-not just like this. I mean, fuck, I wanted it, so, so bad. But…I’ve wanted you, wanted your late nights and early mornings, to help you when you need to study, wash the dishes…sorry, I’m rambling.”

You pet his cheek, shaking your head. “No. Keep going.”

“I mean, we’ve always sort of had that, you know? It was just torture, not kissing you stupid whenever I wanted…because I wanted to. I wanted to, so much, baby. I love you. So much. You’re my best friend, my person, and I just love you so fucking much.”

A breath of a laugh passes through your lips, attempting to absorb what he had just told you. “Really?”

You smile, holding him tightly as you kiss him, sighing happily as he confirms, nodding frantically. The head brushes against your entrance, pulling a whine from you. “Eds, I-I love you, too.” The kisses get more fierce, Eddie clinging onto you harder and nearly attacking your lips. “But…if you don’t fuck me soon I might actually lose my mind,” You giggle.

He laughs, combing his fingers through your hair, away from your face, from the sweat. He slaps his cock against your clit, teasing you with his head. “Of course, baby, you wanna ride me, hmm? Hop up and down on my big fat cock?”

You nod, biting your bottom lip, hissing when he pushes his head in, watching as your jaw drops. “Oh, look at you, I knew you could take it like a good girl.”

You choke back a whine, swallowing hard as his words have such a strong effect on you. ‘Fuck, f-feels so good.” You stop, mewling as the burn of his girth becomes too much.

“Don’t rush yourself, baby, it’s okay.” He puts his hands on your hips, digging into the soft flesh. “So nice and tight, fuck.” His eyes practically roll to the back of his head.

You sink further, taking him deeper as the burn bleeds into bliss and back to burning again. “Jesus, s’good.”

“Mm, almost there, baby.”

“Move, please. Eds. Need-need you to move.”

Eddie chuckles, large hands holding your back. He lifts his hips, slowly filling you to the hilt and bringing it back out, one hand landing by his side to use it for leverage. You chirp out his name, mewling as he slowly rocks his hips. “Love the way you say my name,” he gasps.

You start rocking, slowly lifting your hips as you assist him. “You gonna make me scream it?”

“If that’s a challenge, then I will happily accept,” Eddie growls, gripping onto your hips harder and pulling you down so the union of where your bodies meet hurts in the best way. “Wonder when those legs will give up, hm?”

“I’ve thought about riding you on the couch too many times to give up easily,” you admit, giggling at his wicked grin.

“Oh, have you now? Been wearing those little panties just so I’d snap and ravish you, hmm?” He asks, hair wild as he watches you bounce on him.

“Maybe,” you admit, though that was mostly just out of comfort and trust of your best friend. “You have stronger will power than I thought you would.”

“Hmm, you think too much of me, baby,” Eddie mutters, framing your face with his hand and pulling you in for a kiss.

Admittedly, your legs are growing tired, but you soldier on, connecting your forehead with his desperately and watching his eyes glaze over. Your head already feels hazy, heat building in your stomach as you rapidly climb towards your climax. “You getting close? About to cum on my cock?”

You nod, startling in your movement as he starts to move you quicker with just the tightening of his grip on your hips. “Eds,” You whimper as he rubs his thumb on your clit, rapid movements as he hurdles you towards your orgasm, your cunt tightening around him as your eyes roll back.

“Lemme feel you squeeze my cock, baby, wanna feel you cum all over it.” Almost as he demands it into existence, you finish with a start, twisting your toes together and hunching over his shoulder while he rolls his hips, gasping and whining and mewling. “Oh, that’s my girl. Here, bet those legs’re gettin’ tired, hmm?”

You nod, giddily giggling as he maneuvers you on your back. “God, I love you. I really really do. I don’t–I don’t know what the fuck I’ve been thinking–”

You slap your hand on his mouth, giggling at his wide eyes. “Sorry, but…shut up. Rail me. Destroy me. We have time for all that later, now quit getting all emotional on me.” You take your hand off his mouth and pat his cheek. “Be a good boy and make me scream your name, won’t you?”

He chuckles deeply, his jaw dropping as he nips on the palm of your hand. “‘Be a good boy,’ hmm? Yes, ma’am.”

Okay, this turns you on too much not to eventually dissect it, but Eddie’s hips start moving, harsh and raw and brutal, just as you asked for. With each collision of his hips comes a whimper from the force, each one louder than the last.

His head curls down into your neck, sinking his teeth into your skin as he sucks and bites and laps his tongue over the pain. “Look at your neck, all marked up. All mine,” He rasps.

“All yours,” you whisper, choking on the emotion that fills your throat.

“My good girl who loves to get fucked hard, hmm?” He chuckles, curling his arms tightly around you. “Oh, listen to those pretty little noises you’re making, so pathetic for me, oh fuck.”

“Ed-keep-oh-oh–” you gasp, whining higher and higher.

“Yeah, just like that. Pathetic little princess.”

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in close, skin to skin, all sticky and sweaty as the smell of sex fills the air.

“You’re moaning like a desperate little slut but you’re not screaming my name, yet. Can’t wait for it. Hmm? Why you makin’ me wait?”

“Maybe you’re not hitting hard enough,” you gasp, a smile spreading across your face.

Eddie’s eyes widen, lifting his body off yours quickly. “Oh yeah? Hands n’ knees. Turn around.” He sends a jolt of fear through you, eyes widening as move into a crawl position. “That’s a girl.”

His hands tighten on your hips, lining himself up and pushing in all within the span of 3 seconds. He’s relentless with it, lurching forward as he grabs a fistful of your hair. “C’mon, I can’t hear you.” He taunts you, pulling deliciously at your scalp.

He starts moving faster and harder, clumsily planting his lips on your back, messily trying to take any claim he can on you. One hand slaps your ass, Eddie hums, appreciating the print of his hand on your skin. Moans pass through your lips, the loud ones that Eddie was asking of you. HIs name is added into the mix, cross eyed and desperate as he somehow increases his force.

“There we are. Where do ya want me to cum, baby, I’m so fuckin’ close.”

“Cum–cum in me, Eds. Fill me up.”

“Fuck-you, y’sure?”

“Fill. Me up.” You say again, getting your point across.

“Oh fuck–” he stutters, jaggedly rutting into you as he bends over you, filling you up with sticky white ropes. “You feel that, baby? Fuck. You feel all full?”

Eddie releases the hold on your hair as you fall forward, breathing heavily as you collect yourself. He pulls himself out, collapsing right next to you. His arms easily wrap around your back, pulling you in against his chest. You curl into him, sighing happily as you listen to his racing heart.

You lay like that for a while, listening to his breathing even out as he pets your hair gently. He plants a kiss on your forehead, humming. “Why did that take us so long to do?” You ask, still trying to regain control over your breathing.

“Hmm?” He pulls away, processing your question. “Oh, I don’t know. We’re idiots.”

You tug him back in, feeling sleepy as you smile against his chest. “Yeah. Big, big idiots. I love you, idiot.”

He hums, pulling you in tighter. “Love you too, ya idiot.”

It’s strange. You thought it would change everything if he were to finally be yours. It doesn’t change anything, banter traded as always, only with a caressing hand that tugs you in for a kiss when he teases you. Hormones go wild, finding resolve in one another as movies are no longer watched, just a nice background noise.

-

Thank you so much for reading, remember replies and reblogs are the best way to support fic writers on tumblr

Taglist For I Can Do It With A Broken Heart:

@mopeymopeymouse @fracturedarkness @mmunson86 @capricornrisingsstuff @georgeweasleyslostearhq @gagasbee @birdysaturne @empathyroad @unsureofthe-future @remuslupingf @evacraft1 @eddiebanishedmunson @mewchiili @trixyvixx @take-everything-you-can @streamafterlaughter @tlclick73 @fhsbsvy @micheledawn1975 @munsonmecrazy @harrysgothicbitch @honeyedstar @sadangeltingz @ali-r3n @hereforshmut @cooljadejacksonthings @emma-munson @bl1ssfulbaby @costellation-hunter @mysticpeachobject @thisisktrying @idcandimscared @mel119g @them-cute-boys @bl0ssomanddie @baileebear @luahmeeks @shaybahs @ribbitribbitquack @stephanie-nicks76 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @kennedy-brooke @ezzynf @pretendthisnameisclever @padf00ts-l0ver @boinkybarness @maedesculpaeusoubi @skyfullofsong123 @cruwushes @cloudroomblog @yourdailymemedelivery @daisy-munson @wolfstarsimpxx @haruari

bold means it wouldnt let me tag you so I DM'd you in private to you know.

[planetallure]

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ dark!fic recs

CW: once again, these works contain dark and explicit themes that may be upsetting or triggering to some. please use your discretion and discernment.

@cherienymphe : when i first seriously got back on tumblr and got into dark!fanfic, cherie's was one of the first blogs i found. her writing was essentially my indoctrination. it was terrifying how much i loved it/her writing. truly phenomenal. i've read quite of few of her stories (mainly for rafe cameron, jj maybank, steve rogers, and peter parker) but i'll list my faves.

"when the party's over" - its something about this series...i think about it often. if you're into forced pregnancy or corruption tropes, tap in.

"wicked games" - i actually first read this one on ao3 before i discovered her tumblr and was absolutely gagged. another one i think of often.

"amnesiac" - the first series of hers that i ever read. absolutely traumatized me and i sobbed reading it. amazing storytelling.

"the hills" - another bangerrr. a one night stand ends in complete and total blackmail and entrapment. he just wanted to give her a better life *clown face emoji*.

"his father's son" - after ward death, rafe takes over the reins in more ways than one.

"teenage dirtbag" - this series single handedly made me a jj girl. the tension??? yup yup mhm.

"the less i know the better" - ironically my favorite part of this story is readers relationship with rafe but seeing jj slowly and then rapidly descend into madness? yeah.

"claimed" - a/b/o dynamics. brought me back to my wattpad days. still eat it up.

"daddy dearest" - steve meets a single mom and decides to be not the stepdad, but the dad who stepped up.

i'll be honest, i was a non believer in dark!peter but: "she's with me", "one last time." "suburbia" and "basic training" made a believer outta me. hands. down.

@lambtotheslaughterr : it absolutely amazes me the things that come from her mind. the level of creativity and originality needs to be studied. oona, you are criminally underrated.

“rise” - the first series of hers that i read. arguably the best series i’ve read on here thus far. this is the first part to her “the day the world ended” universe and it completely blew me away. i couldn’t believe that something like it had come from some silly little boat show. just brilliant.

“when the bough breaks” - the first work of hers i read. this one for me was a heartbreaking slow burn story, but the smut…makes up for it. yes yes.

“i burn” - sex!addict reader x rafe cameron. need i say more? actually, i will. the smut and tension in this one towards the end? it was shameful how turned on i was.

“one way or another” - buckle up, grab a snack, and prepare for the ride of a lifetime. that’s it.

“something wicked this way comes” - a single mom trying to escape her past, except her past is rafe cameron. this was one very spooky scary la la.

"summit" - the second part to the tdtwe universe. its still brand new but its already feeling like another banger, i mean it's oona. tap in.

@harryspet : rae was also apart of my indoctrination and boy did she do what needed to be done. her perfectly curated moodboards alone did it for me. very mindful, very demure.

"homestead" - what can i say...i'm a sucker for pregnancy stories :( and this series was no exception. absolutely delectable. enjoy.

"well kept" - classic millionaire ceo x reader, my younger wp reading self cheered gleefully. my love language is acts of service and boyy was this one speaking my language. had me at "scheduled braiding appointment."

"bambi eyes" - this one was one of those that made me want to take a good long look in the mirror and ask myself, "is this who we are...is this what we represent?"

@sherrybaby14 : this one is for the mcu girlies. more fics than you could ever ask for. everyone say "thank you, mother!"

"the distraction" - i'm starting to notice a kidnapping/stockholm syndrome pattern here...ANYWAY! work is realllyy stressful for steve and you just happen to be the perfect distraction.

@straywords : she's no longer active but her incredible writings remain so please, peruse. its like a beautiful museum over there.

"a break" - *gasp* another pregnancy story! stucky edition.

@darkficsyouneveraskedfor : an icon, a legend, she is the moment! another infinite library for my mcu girls. roo has all you could ever want or ask for.

@perlelune

"all too well" - yes, yes, another one, its who i am. rafe cameron proving once again that you can't escape him.

"lucky" - best friend!rafe x reader. he didn't know what he had until it was almost gone

"tag, you're it" - never read a scream fanfic before this one but boy did i have fun! chad is so pookie in this too :(

@honestsycrets : back when i was in my miguel era, sy single handedly kept me fed.

"starved | mio" - "mio", in which you babysit mayday and it gives miguel baby fever and "starved", in which he made you a mom...but its left less time for other activities.

"stung" - sex pollen/abo. reader gets bitten by an anomaly causing a reaction that only miguel can cure

"amor y respeto" - he just can't love you the way you need to be. so you and miguel break up...at the worst possible time.

"exclusive" - you and miguel are fuckbuddies. you want more, but miguel can't bring himself to give it to you. so you find company in hobie, who's there for you in all the ways that you need. miguel's not happy about that.

"canary" - you're a singer in the 1920s who's fallen in with the dangerous o'hara brothers.

"grande" - sex!worker miguel x assistant!reader. think...a pepper x tony kinda dynamic. except, miguel doesn't take kindly to certain slights. :)

@starfxkrinc : last but certainly not least! moony is a ridiculously talented writer and a mutal of mine. i found her early on during my resurgence on here. this is her new side blog (rip lovesickbrat and starfxkr!!) luckily she was able to salvage a lot of her past works and is back like she never left. i recommend her "western nights" series (really just the trailer park!jj tag in general) and her "ode to eaters" au. a queen of all things taboo. she does it for the girls who are drawn to the dark and scary. the gross and weird. <3

[nervousimposter]

Eddie started finding notes in his locker his sophomore year. The first couple of them, he just tossed without reading. He didn’t need to read what those asshole bullies wanted to say about him. But curiosity won out after two weeks of constant notes and he finally opened one. It was the single most impactful thing he’d ever read. 

I think you’re the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen. 

He kept that note. And every other note he got from that point on. If anyone were to ask Eddie what he regretted most in his life, it would be those two weeks of notes he tossed without reading. Ten slips of paper with unknown writing that he wishes he could get back. Add them to his ‘mystery boys notes’ box. And he was a mystery, the note writer. Anonymous. Unknown. Impossible to catch. 

Eddie held out for a month. A whole month before he decided to stage a stake out. He watched his locker like a hawk. In between classes, during classes, lunch, after school and even one absolutely horrible day where he came in an hour before school started. But the mystery boy had to be invisible. He never saw anyone approach his locker but his daily note was always there. And Eddie; poor, unfortunate, infatuated Eddie dealt with mystery boys’ notes from ‘82 to ‘85. Four agonizing years of the most heart-warming, loving notes. 

I wish I was as brave as you.

Did you change your shampoo? Your hair looked so soft today.

God, your eyes have to be the biggest fucking eyes I’ve ever seen. So pretty.

I like how long your hair is getting. 

Saw you walking down the hall today and I’ve never wanted to kiss someone more. 

They started cute. Compliments here and there, even a doodle every once in a while. Hearts and smiley faces. But as the months and years went by, the mystery boy got deeper. Confessions and secrets. 

I think if I had a different dad, we would’ve been best friends.

Can you fall in love with someone you’ve never talked to?

I dream about us. 

I’m a boy. I’m sorry.

I want to hold your hand. Those rings are something else. 

I saw you trying to catch me. Adorable.

I wish I could take you on a date. Not give a shit what my dad would say or what people would think. 

I wish I could be brave enough to talk to you. 

You’re still the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.

I’m graduating this year. I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you. I think I’m going to try to figure out a way to keep dropping these off next year. I don’t want you to forget about me.

The notes didn’t continue when the school year started. Eddie was embarrassed to admit he cried that first night. He wasn’t sure how the mystery boy was going to be able to get the notes to him but he fully believed it was going to happen. He went five weeks with no daily note in his locker. And then, it showed up on a Monday. He almost missed it, the tiny slip of paper. 

Sorry this took so long. Had to figure out how I was going to sneak these in here. I don’t think I’ll be able to call you pretty every day of the week this time around but I’m going to try my best! 

And mystery boy was right. The notes were always there on Monday. Just Monday. But Eddie didn’t complain. One note a week after five weeks of nothing almost had his heart bursting from his chest. It also narrowed down his search. Sort of. Mystery boy was either coming in on those Mondays to drop off the note, sneaking in on the weekends when the school was empty OR after school on Fridays. And look, he’s failed to graduate high school two times in a row now but he wasn’t stupid. Did it take him three months after the notes to start again for him to realize who it was? Yes but to be fair, for two of those months it was Eddie wallowing in denial. 

Five weeks into school was when he restarted Hellfire. Three weeks before that was when he brought in those new little freshman sheepies. The same freshman sheepies that got picked up by Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington who graduated last year. Steve Harrington who he catches staring at him from his beemer in the parking lot every Friday night before he takes the kiddies home. Steve who he categorizes as someone who is so far out of his league that it just couldn’t be him. But it’s been three months and there isn’t any other former Hawkins high student running around in or near the school. And now that Eddie’s almost certain Steve has been mystery boy these past few years, he can’t wait. He’s been in love with a figure made out of slips of paper for four years and his nonexistent patience has truly run thin.  

He calls for a break 15 minutes before they normally end their sessions. Tells the boys he needs to run to the bathroom and almost sprints out the door. His locker sits in the hallway just around the corner of the drama room. The door closing shut echos through the empty hallways, alongside the squeaks coming from his shoes as he hustles towards his locker. He freezes as soon as he turns the corner. 

Steve probably only had 30 seconds after hearing the door open and shut to process what he was going to do. He could’ve run or hid, maybe pretend like he just needed the bathroom while he waited. But Eddie watched him pause as they made eye contact instead. Watched as Steve looked him up and down. Watched him relax and lean back against the lockers behind him with a lazy smirk. His arm slowly moved up and Eddie could see a slip of paper held between his fingers. Steve didn’t break eye contact with him at all as he proceeded to shove the paper between the vents of his locker. They stayed like that for what felt like hours. Staring. Broken when Steve pushed himself off the wall and walked towards him. He didn’t stop. Side stepped around Eddie before they could collide. A faint brush of his fingers along the back of his hand as he walked past him. And Eddie just watched him pass. Just like he watched him slip that note in his locker, he watched Steve walk back down the hall and out the front doors.

He waited only five seconds after the doors closed behind Steve before he jogged over to his locker. Grabbed the note and shoved it into his pocket before running back over to the drama room. Told the guys that they stopped at a decent spot and would meet again next Friday. Walked with them to the parking lot to head home. To catch a glimpse of Steve. And there he was, sitting in his beemer, staring again. This time though, Eddie smiled at him. He smiled at him and pulled the note out of his pocket. Opened it right there in the parking lot while he stared back at Steve. It only took him a few seconds to glance down to read. And as soon as he did, he threw his head back and laughed. Cackled really. He looked back at the beemer and saw Steve with the widest grin. Watched him lift his fingers off the steering wheel and wiggle them at him before he started pulling out of the lot. He looked back down at the note in his hand and chuckled again. Who knew Steve Harrington knew DnD well enough to draw a perfect rendition of an eight sided dice?

Wanna go on a d8? - Steve Harrington xxx-xxx-xxxx

[dragonflylady77]

OH I'M SO GLAD THERE IS A PART TWO BECAUSE THIS HAS ME GOING FERAL, MY FRIEND.

Teacher!Steve/Single Dad Billy AU

Billy doesn't really know what to expect when he opens the doors to Hawkins Elementary school for parent teacher conference night.

Becca's mom had always been the one doing all the school stuff. She'd been the one meeting teachers, sending in snacks, helping with homework. She'd been the one taking care of all the everyday things.

He'd just been the every other weekend dad.

So he didn't know how these things worked. He didn't know how a lot of things worked. But he had no choice now. He was going to have to learn quickly, because the world doesn't stop moving when someone dies. It just keeps going, dragging you along for the ride.

And the last two months have been a hell of a ride.

It's not that he doesn't know how to take care of his daughter, he's shared custody since she was a baby, but raising her full time? He's not sure how he's going to manage that. He'd already had to come back to Hawkins because his only support system is his sister, Max, and she'd never left.

So he just.. doesn't know how to do this.

But he knows he has to try.

Because Becca's grandparents have hated his guts from the moment they saw him, so they'll be waiting for him to fuck up. And if he does, they will probably swoop in and try to take her from him. Take her back to California.

He won't go down without a fight, of course, but he doesn't want to fight over Becca. There's no contest. She's his.

She's his and Leslie's. And Leslie isn't here anymore. So…

Becca is his.

He wouldn't be here, looking for room 202 at 6:30 on a Tuesday night, otherwise.

He wouldn't be wading through the halls so packed full of parents that it's hard to move. He wouldn't be trying to ignore them all, because some give him flirty smiles as he passes, some nod their heads, and some try to give him a wide berth, because that's Billy Hargrove and he was kinda notorious in his youth.

He wouldn't be doing any of this if he didn't want to do right by her. If he didn't love her.

So Leslie's parents can kiss his ass.

He sighs in relief when he finally finds the right room and opens the decorated door. But then he is caught completely off guard, nearly loses his breath when he steps inside his daughter's first grade classroom. Because the man sitting behind the teachers desk, the man looking down at a grade book, is Steve fucking Harrington.

Mr Harrington.

Becca's teacher.

Ok, yeah, maybe he should have put two and two together, but like… the last Billy'd heard, he'd taken over his daddy's business. It never crossed his mind that he'd end up teaching.

Teaching his daughter.

Why hadn't Max warned him? She had to have known.

Oh, they're having words when he gets home.

When the door closes behind Billy, Harrington starts speaking, eyes still downcast and hidden behind a pair of glasses. "Right on time. It's nice to meet you Mr-" He cuts himself off when he looks up from his papers and sees him.

Billy lets himself smirk, but inside he's kinda reeling. He'd had a total hard on for this guy in high school, and even though he looks ridiculously dorky right now, he still feels a spark of interest there.

Wonderful.

"It's been awhile, pretty boy." He says, coming to stand in front of the desk.

"Hargrove." He huffs after a second of looking like a deer in the headlights. "Rebecca Hargrove. I cant believe I didn't realize."

"If it makes you feel any better, I hadn't made the connection either," He shrugs.

"I'm just...surprised." He admits, "I never pictured you as a kid having kind of guy."

Eh, that's fair.

"I never pictured you as a teacher, either." He replies, "but I probably should have. You looked after the brats all the time back then."

He runs a hand through his hair, which Billy notes is shorter than it had been in school, but there's still enough of it that it sticks up all messy cute when he does it.

"Yeah, I mean, that's not why I chose this field, but they definitely brought out something in me."

He looks fond as shit, like he's remembering something nice. And Billy…that spark in his gut is slowly setting a fire inside him and he does not need this shit right now.

He doesn't need to be thinking about Harrington's stupid face, and pretty mouth. Or be wondering if his ass still looks good under that desk.

No.

His daughter is his top priority.

So if his dick could fuck off right now, that'd be great.

He coughs to mask how uncomfortable he suddenly is. "So, this conference thing?"

"Yes, right." Harrington clears his throat. "There's just a couple things, really. Despite transferring this late into the school year, Becca is actually doing well academically so far. She's very bright, ahead of some of the kids, even. But I do have a small concern. It's nothing serious, could be that she's still adjusting as a new student, but she gets a bit withdrawn and refuses to speak sometimes."

He doesn't know if it's annoying or endearing that he's been paying enough attention to her behavior that he's worried. She's been in his class all of a month.

"Yeah, that kinda happens when you lose your mom." He tells him. Not to get a reaction, but to be honest. He should know why she gets quiet and sad.

He can see a bit of red slowly appearing on Harrington's cheeks and he looks absolutely distraught. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I didn't- It all makes sense now. I had no idea that you'd lost your wife."

"No, no. She was never my wife," he corrects. "but thank you. It's been harder on Becca than me. Her and her mom were close and then...well I never thought I'd be raising her alone. I needed Max's help, so I moved us back here. She pretty much lost everything familiar when she lost her mom."

"That's so awful, " He replies, and he sounds sad, like he truly feels upset by the revelation. "I'll be sure to respect her boundaries and not make her talk in class if she doesn't want to."

Billy can't help the little upturn of his lips. "I'd really appreciate that."

They kind of stare awkwardly at each other for a moment before Harrington startles a bit, which is weird because there was no sound or anything that should have spooked him.

"Um, anyway, your daughter is a sweet girl, and I'm sure she will continue doing well in class. Thank you for coming in to speak with me. It helps when parents actually show up."

"It wasn't a problem." He shoves his hands in his jacket pockets, trying hard not to just run away. Because he's getting a little hot under the collar. "Gotta get used to these things now."

"Yeah," He sighs. "And again, I'm sorry for your loss."

"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. Just let me know if my kid ever needs me. I'll come get her."

"I'm sure that won't be necessary, but I'll be sure to do that."

"Thanks," He turns to leave but stops for just a second. "See ya around, Teach."

And then he's out the door and in his car, heart racing a bit.

Because…

Not only is Steve Harrington still pretty as fuck, he also cares a lot about his students, about Becca.

And Billy…

Billy is so fucking screwed.

Part II

[skeltnwrites]

The Shape of Family ‧₊˚❀༉

As a single dad, Steve’s world revolves around school drop-offs, bedtime rituals, and tee-ball practices—and he's struggling to keep up. But you're always there, happily lending a hand when he needs it most. / masterlist

part one - you find out your work crush is a dad and offer to watch his mischievous little girl so he can get some work done 5.2k

a/n - penelope is a little shit and i love her dearly, general warnings/tags here

── .✦

“Hey, sorry to bother you, Steve. I just had a quick question– but before I forget, there’s this little girl in the lobby knocking stuff over. Do you know if her parents are here?” 

“Fuck– sorry. One sec.” 

He brushes past you with an urgency that is typical of Steve. As the community outreach coordinator, he’s naturally a busy man. You haven’t known him long– just the couple of months since you became a volunteer for the local rec center– but it’s clear he’s dedicated to his work. Always zipping from one end of the building to the other, juggling class setups, organizing meetings, or hunting down the next thing that needs fixing. He tends to add more to his plate than he can carry, at least according to another staff member, which is why you’ve been assigned to help him. 

You strain to match his long strides and nearly take out a trash can when he turns a corner unexpectedly. But you can’t lose him now– someone is always nearby to steal him for paperwork or performance reviews and all you have is a quick question. 

The lobby unfortunately looks like a tornado blew through the front doors. Cabinets are thrown open, papers are scattered like leaves across the floor, and a chair has been toppled over. And said tornado has her cheek pressed to the vending machine glass, an arm twisted inside the dispenser box to reach for a loose pack of Skittles. The scene is almost amusing until you remember you’ll likely be the one to clean it up. 

“Penelope!” Steve scolds, not loud but stern enough to surprise you. He’s consistently an embodiment of gentleness– always accommodating and rarely assertive. And while he’s still gentle with her, his tone carries a weight and firmness that’s a stark departure from his usual demeanor. 

The girl, Penelope, retracts her arm and spins around to face Steve. And if it wasn’t for the shit-eating grin pinned to her face, you might’ve felt bad for getting her in trouble. 

Steve’s hands snap to his hips. “I asked you to wait in my office.” 

She shrugs, “Need a snack.”

Steve huffs and rakes a hand through his hair– a habit when he’s stressed, which is most of the time it seems. By the end of the day, his hairspray will have been combed out and Steve will argue with the strands that curl over his forehead. 

“You can have one after you clean this up and if you stay in my office.” 

“Candy?”

“No, no candy. There’s snacks in your lunchbox.” He bends to scoop up a few pamphlets to hand to her. “Or I have pretzels. Do you want that?”

She pinches a page between her nails, weighing her options. 

Steve pries tiny fingers off, “Don’t rip those. Put ‘em away please.” 

And she listens for maybe the first time ever, it seems, cramming a stack of them back on the shelf. 

You gather your own stack of handouts and press them into Steve’s sleeve. He recoils a step, his eyes widening before rapidly shutting in a moment of realization. “Sorry! You had a question- I’m sorry.” 

Penelope abandons her organizing to plant herself at Steve’s left like a sidekick– anything to get out of cleaning up. She gazes at you with a familiar pair of almond eyes and then it clicks. Her hair is the same shade of brown and her jaw, though softer, is square shaped like Steve’s. The resemblance is indisputable. 

You redirect your stare to answer Steve. “Um, yeah– I just needed to borrow the storage closet key to grab some more chairs.” 

“Oh, of course.” He pats the front pocket of his jeans. “Keys are in my office– I hope.” 

Steve marches past you once again, a new mission in mind, tugging Penelope by the wrist and toeing a cabinet shut on the way out. Penelope’s poor little legs must be tired if he always walks this fast. 

“I don’t want pretzels,” she eventually decides. 

“Then you can have what’s in your lunchbox.” He glances over his shoulder to confirm you’re in tow, “This is my daughter, Penelope, by the way.” 

“Nice to meet you, Penelope.” You wave, not that she sees. 

A braid sits high on her head, swinging like a horse's tail with each hurried step. Her faded denim overalls ride up slightly, exposing just enough ankle to show off the bubblegum pink Converse on her feet. She’s a cute little thing, button-eyed and puffy-cheeked like a cabbage patch kid. 

Steve nudges her with his hip, “Say hi.”

She throws you an impartial glance. “Hi.” 

When Steve’s office is in sight, Penelope wriggles away from his hold to sprint down the hall. On her tip-toes, she flicks on the light, letting the door slam in Steve’s face. You catch him rolling his eyes as he stops the door with his foot for you. Penelope is clambering onto his chair like it’s a race and pushing off the desk to spin as soon as she’s seated. Steve steers her out of the way to search the drawers, passing you a set of keys when he finds them. 

“Just bring ‘em back, please. Dottie found them in lost and found last week.” 

“Thanks, I will,” you promise, eyes falling over Penelope again. 

It’s your cue to leave, but your feet remain anchored to the floor. Your mind is buzzing with questions that neither of you have the time to discuss. The rational part of you knows you should exit before you let your curiosity win. Yet, you find yourself lingering in the doorway, stalling just long enough for Steve to lift an eyebrow in silent inquiry.

And before you can rule whether or not it's a good idea, you blurt out, “I can keep an eye on her if you want?” 

Penelope peaks over the back of the chair, perched on her knees so she can see. 

Steve shakes his head, “No, it’s okay. You’ve got stuff to do. And Penelope is going to be a better listener for the rest of the day, right?” He ruffles her hair, earning him a glare. 

You bite back a smile. It’s a funny thing, seeing that frown and furrowed brows that resemble Steve’s so clearly because you can’t imagine him making that face at anyone ever. It’s cute, even if it’s meant to be mean, but you would never tell her as much. 

“I really don’t mind. She could help me tape the flyers up– If she wants something to do?” You direct the last part at Penelope. To a kid, being trapped in their dad’s dusty old office is probably boredom purgatory. 

Penelope blinks at you and then Steve for permission. 

“You want to?” He asks.

She nods, then adds, “Snack too?” 

“Yes, honey.” He sighs, faint but deflated, burdened by the guilt of not feeding her sooner. Steve fishes her backpack out from under his desk. A vivid shade of pink with a Barbie patch sewn to the front. Her tin lunchbox is similarly themed and only harbors a bag of fruit snacks. 

“Fruit snacks or pretzels?” 

Penelope’s features pinch in a way that says neither but she snatches the fruit snacks anyway. Decidedly dismissed or over the conversation, she hops off the chair and sees herself out. 

You can’t help the smile that finds your lips as you turn back to Steve.

He chuckles, “It’s been a day. Bring her back if she doesn’t listen. Good luck.” 

Penelope leans against the wall outside, popping a gummy in her mouth lazily. 

“We’re gonna make a pitstop at the supply closet and then you can help me with the flyers.” 

She doesn’t say anything, but she follows as you start walking, and that’s all you need from her. She’s strangely silent for a kid, especially Steve’s kid. Conversation seems to come easy to him, he likes to talk, which is one of the reasons you still can’t believe you didn’t know he had a child. On your first day as a volunteer, he’d crammed that he was on the swim team in high school, that he's from Indiana, and that he prefers the warmer months all in one conversation– the guy is an open book.  

And you’re quiet too because you’re focused on recalling where they put that damned supply closet. The rec center halls all sort of look the same still, bleeding into one jumbled image of wood paneling and old carpet in your mind. The building is practically a maze; constructed in the fifties, it still carries its historic charm—stubborn doors, leaky faucets, and all—issues the city claims they 'can’t afford' to fix. 

Penelope must get tired of going in circles because eventually she tugs on your sleeve and points down the opposite hall you were planning on going. When she leads you right up to the door you beam at her. For a second, she forgets to be brooding and smiles back. 

“You’re a smart little cookie, Penelope. How’d you know it was here?” You ask, unlocking the door. 

She shrugs nonchalantly, “I just know things.”

You laugh loud enough to draw eyes from a nearby meeting and determine Penelope is the funniest kid you’ve ever met. 

She holds the door open at your request, munching on her fruit snacks as you maneuver a stack of chairs into the hall. You make it back to the classroom without her directions, not to toot your own horn. She tosses her empty wrapper in the trash as you unstack the chairs. 

“Here,” you pass her a roll of tape. “Rip some pieces off for me?” 

She nods, ambling over to the wall with you.  

“So, Penelope, how old are you?” You ask, pressing a flyer against the wallpaper. 

She debates, flipping fingers up and down on her free hand before concluding, “Four.” 

“Ohh, very cool. You’re almost ready to go to school with the big kids, huh?” 

“Yes, at the big school. I’m in pre-school.” 

“Mhmm. Do you like preschool?” 

She hums no and strains to tear off a piece. 

“Here, like this,” you demonstrate, pulling in the proper direction. She copies you, ripping a neat line. The corners of her lips raise as she views her handiwork. 

“You don’t like school?” You ask, peering down. 

She hands you the slice of tape. “Only sometimes.” 

“Why only sometimes?” 

She shrugs and heaves a hefty sigh for such little lungs. She’s too small to be sighing like that, you think, and she definitely acquired it from Steve. 

“I only like work sometimes too,” you admit. 

Her eyes chase yours– all innocently wide and filled with disbelief. She rips off another square of tape, “Are your friends not nice?” 

You consider her question, answering truthfully, “Well, maybe sometimes, I guess.” 

“Meg was not a kind friend today.” Her tone is hilariously chastizing for a child. Kids are just like mini adults sometimes– collecting random phrases and mannerisms like trading cards.  

“No? Why’s that?” 

“She wouldn’t share. Daddy always says sharing is caring.” 

“That’s true. Did you tell your teacher?” 

Penelope shakes her head, tilting on her heels.

“Why not?”

“Meg told the teacher on me because I wasn’t being a kind friend either.” 

“Oh. Why weren’t you being a kind friend?” 

“Because I wanted to play with the dolls too,” she mumbles, upset wavering in her voice. To a child, these seemingly trivial matters really do feel like the end of the world, so you can’t help but empathize, even as you wish your worries were confined to sharing toys.

You crouch in front of Penelope, “We still should be kind, hmm? Even when our friends don’t want to share?” 

Penelope’s unconvinced, picking at her nail like the dirt underneath is a more important issue. But you’re at the end of your stack of cardstock and it maybe isn’t your place to have this conversation anyway. 

You get her set up at a table with printer paper and a box of crayons from the closet. She dumps them out immediately, spraying rainbow across her paper so she can find the “bestest” colors.  

“I can share,” she declares, sliding her extra sheet over to your end of the table. 

“That’s very sweet of you. Thank you.” You catch a crayon before it rolls onto the floor. “What should I draw?” 

“I’m coloring my family.” 

“That’s nice. I think I’ll draw a dinosaur.” 

“A dinosaur?” She cocks her head and giggles, bubbly and pure in the way that kids laugh. Your heart aches with happiness. “That’s silly!” 

“What? Why’s that silly?” 

She cackles like this is the funniest idea anyone’s ever had. “They just are!” 

“Hmm. Should I draw a serious dinosaur then?” 

“All dinosaurs are silly– Trevor says so.”

“What! Why does he think that?” 

Her words fuse into one smear of a sound as she shrugs, “I dunno.” 

“Well, my dinosaur is very serious. See?”

She presses into your arm to examine your quick sketch. “That’s not a dinosaur!” 

“It is! You can’t tell?” 

She nibbles on her lip, smile growing as she shakes her head. 

You pull the paper closer, as if a better angle might somehow improve it. “Hmm, I guess it does look a bit like an alien, doesn’t it?”

Penelope giggles and nods enthusiastically before returning to her work. Her crayon moves methodically across the paper, lips pressed together in concentration. After a long spell of silence, she kindly requests, “Can you draw a house?” 

“Of course,” you reply, “On my paper or yours?”

“Mine,” she says, her pointer finger tapping the corner of her sheet with emphasis.

The drawing is a riot of color, blending bold strokes of crayon to create two people and an animal. The taller, presumably Steve, is painted with orange and yellow hues– true to the the warmth he represents. Penelope, doused in cooler tones, carries their floppy-eared pet– a bunny or a dog, maybe? 

“Wow, Penelope! This is amazing!” You genuinely mean it; despite her young age, her talent shines through in little details like eyelashes and a set of heart-shaped earrings. “Is this you and Daddy?”

“Yes, and Cinderella!” she adds proudly.

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” you say, admiring her work. “Is Cinderella your pet?” 

She bobs her head animatedly. 

“Wow, she looks like a very pretty… animal in your drawing.” 

“She is a very pretty cat,” Penelope affirms and you are relieved not to have guessed incorrectly. She stares at you for a long moment. “Is Cinderella family?” 

“Well, does she live with you?”

Penelope scrunches her nose and tips her head, “Sort of?”

“She sort of lives with you?”

“Yeah. She lives outside mostly but sometimes I let her inside.” Her pitch fluctuates as she talks, the words lilting in a strange, almost sing-song cadence that kids do. 

“Ohh,” you smile. “Do you feed Cinderella?”

“Yes, Daddy buys her food in a can and it’s really stinky!” 

Penelope joins you when you laugh. Not because you are but because stinky things are just funny at her age. 

“Do you love Cinderella?” You ask. 

“Yes– except when she bites me.” She sobers quickly, forehead wrinkling. 

“Oh,” you chuckle, “Well, I think she’s family then.” 

“I think so too,” she states seriously, swapping a blue crayon for a green. 

“What color should the house be?” You claw through the rainbow spread.  

“White!” 

“Well, the paper’s already white but how ‘bout I outline the house in black so you know where it is?” 

“I guess so. There’s two windows and the door is red– Oh, and there are lots of flowers outside.” 

You nod, sketching her vision into existence. “Is this your house?” 

“Yes, and Daddy’s. And sometimes Cinderella’s.”

“Just you three? Is that your whole family?” Admittedly, it’s a self-indulgent question. You’re curious about Penelope’s mom. And you noticed Steve doesn’t wear a ring, checked multiple times in the last few weeks even. But that doesn’t refute the possibility he might be seeing someone. 

“Yes, Daddy and Cinderella is my family. Daddy says families come in all shapes and sizes.” 

You’re glowing with a fondness that’s impossible to hide– because everything about her is adorable– her chubby cheeks, her tinkling little laugh, even her attitude, though Steve would probably disagree with the latter. She’s different than Steve in a lot of ways: grumpier and more aloof, but, at her age, it’s cute. And still, she feels like his carbon copy. An echo of everything you’ve come to like about him. 

Him being a dad makes perfect sense in retrospect. To have overlooked such an important part of his life seems silly. A tenderness radiates from Steve, the kind only a parent could possess. He’s full of love– too much not to share. He pours lots into his work: late nights at the center, taking on more than he can chew, always with a smile. And the rest? It must go to Penelope. 

“Your dad is very right about that.” 

She smirks confidently, holding up her artwork, “I’m going to give this to him.”

“I bet he’ll love it so much, Penelope!” 

And his dad senses must be tingling at the mention of his name because his face appears in the door’s slim window not even a minute later. His lips curve into a grin as he realizes he’s been caught spying. 

The door clicks and Penelope turns. “Hi, Daddy.”  

“Hi, baby,” Steve strolls over to the opposite side of the table, “Are you being a good listener?” His attention flicks around the room, searching for any signs of misbehavior. 

Penelope shimmies up tall in her seat and nods until he meets her pleased gaze. 

Steve must believe the girl because he doesn’t press further, but you praise her anyway, “Very good. Penelope’s been an amazing helper this afternoon.” 

“Is that right?” He orbits the table to stand behind her. “What are you drawing, Nell?”

She flips over her paper, clapping the front against the table. “It’s a surprise!”

“Oh, sorry!” He paces back, redirecting his attention to you. “I didn’t see it.” 

Penelope twists around to confirm his eyes are elsewhere before proceeding to squeeze in a final set of details– grass blades and sun rays. “Here,” she thrusts the page into his hands. “For you.” 

“For me?” His face lights up like a Christmas tree before he’s even seen it. She could hand him a pebble, and he’d treasure it like a gem. And when his eyes do fan across the drawing, he melts. 

“This is so lovely!” He coos. “Where did you get all this talent from? This belongs in a museum, Nell!” He keeps his heart from bursting with a steady palm to his chest. And with his free hand, he flashes it at you just long enough to catch a glimpse before he reels it in to study some more. “And you got Cinderella’s stripes too. Wow.” 

He squats behind Penelope’s chair, throwing an arm around her middle, “Thank you for this. And thank you for being a good listener. That makes my heart very happy.” 

She slumps into his chest, peering up at the reflection of her own features. “Is it time to go?” 

His eyes leap to the clock hung on the opposite wall. “Couple more hours, babe.”

Penelope huffs. 

“I’m gonna hang this in my office. I love it so so much!” He sows a couple of kisses on her temple, straining to stand with achy knees. “You wanna come hang out with me or stay here?” 

She looks at you like you might object. “Here.” 

If Steve’s offended, he doesn’t show it. He’s still grinning like the Cheshire cat, high on the parenting win that is receiving willing affection from your child.  “That okay?” He asks you. 

“Of course. I’ll put her to work,” you reassure. 

“Good, keep her busy. It keeps her out of trouble.” He raises the drawing for another look. “I’ll be in my office, doing paperwork, yay.” 

You snicker, as he retraces the path he came. “Have fun with that boss!”

Just before the door slams shut, he yells back, equally playful, “I told you to stop calling me that!”

Penelope doodles some more, gifting you a vibrant rendition of the night sky– a collection of stars and circles and swirls. You’re so grateful you tell her it’ll go on your fridge, and it does as soon as you’re home. She sorts through toys and equipment in the gym closet and even holds your dustpan when you sweep. Her role as your helper is taken very seriously. 

The two hours pass faster than you expect. Time flies when you're having fun, as Steve would say. All his little phrases and cheesy jokes suddenly make sense in the context of him being a dad. 

She takes your hand on the way to Steve’s office, escorting you when you pretend not to know which direction it’s in. It’s as comforting as it is validating; winning the kindness and attention of four-year-olds, especially this one, is difficult. You knock on the wood frame even though the door’s propped open. 

Steve peaks up through a rare pair of reading glasses. Round, wireframes that match the golden shade his hair assumes when it catches the light. They highlight his eyes—warm and gentle as a summer breeze. But he swipes them off his nose, folding them with practiced care. 

A smile mends his frown as Penelope climbs into his lap. “Hi, sweetheart.” 

She wiggles into a comfortable position, nudging his chest until he reclines further to make space. “Hi.”

“Are you having fun?” Steve cradles her shin to keep her from slipping. “What have you been up to?”

“Cleaning.” Her tone is casual, dismissive even, like it’s nothing to fuss over; but her eyes are fixed on him, waiting for a reaction. 

Steve gasps, “No way! You were cleaning? I don’t know if I believe it.” 

“I was!” Penelope whines, tickled with glee. 

“Hmm, is this true?” He arches an eyebrow at you. 

You nod, delighted to play along. “It is. Penelope here is excellent at handling a dustpan. She even organized the dodgeballs by color.”

“Really? Because you never-ever want to clean at home.”

“I do!” She squeals, bending backward over the arm of his chair.

“Yeah right.” He blows a raspberry on her belly where her shirt has pinched up.

She shrieks, squirming and kicking her heels into his thigh. Steve’s dad reflexes must clock in because he blocks her knee just before it drives into his cheek. And he takes it as a sign to ease up before someone gets hurt– craning back up and scooping Penelope into a baby cradle against his chest. Her legs are long and lanky, dangling over his arms like uncooked spaghetti. 

“Do we need to invite them over every time you make a mess in your room? Will that solve the problem?” He teases, squishing her arms against his shirt so she can’t escape and peppering kisses from temple to temple. 

Eventually, Penelope comes to terms that no amount of writhing will succeed against his strength. She slackens in his embrace, surrendering to the terrible thing that is unconditional love. 

“Oh, here are your keys!” They rattle against the desk where you drop them. 

Steve nods into Penelope's crown, poking her side. “Can you say ��thank you for hanging out with me?’”

Anticipating another round of tickles, she grins before parroting, “Thank you for hanging out with me.”

“Thank you for helping me clean!”

Her eyes sweep back over to Steve, “Can we go home yet?” 

His fingers tap rhythmically on the desk, a small sigh escaping as he glances at the paperwork drowning his workspace. “We’ll leave as soon as I’m finished.” He pecks the top of her head. “Promise.”

She rolls her eyes, moaning, “Daddy, come on it’s taking, like, a million years!”

“A million? Surely not.” 

“It is!” She elongates the sound until it’s less word and more noise. 

His shoulders droop, tension slipping from his frame as he agrees, “Okay. I’m ready to go too.” 

You don’t blame him for giving in so easily, Penelope’s puppy eyes are powerful. Her chunky little hands smoosh his cheeks– molding and kneading like it’s play-doh, “Is that why your face looks so sleepy?”

A hearty laugh bursts from his throat, “Yes, that’s why my face looks so sleepy.” He pats her arms, “Come on. Up.” 

Penelope scoots off his knees, gripping his wrist for balance. Steve ducks under the desk for his backpack and shoves the stack of paperwork inside. 

“Hey, I meant to ask you, is the new schedule working okay for you?” He asks you, always so thoughtful. 

You nod earnestly. “Yeah, actually, I like doing Fridays better I think.”

“Yeah, Fridays are fun. Fitness Friday has been a big hit with the high school's soccer team.” He slings his bag over his shoulder and lifts Penelope’s by the strap. 

“Oh, good! Did the new jump ropes come in?” Conversations like this, as mundane as they are, are fleeting– the next interruption always around the corner– so you savor it while you have him. 

“Mmmm, not yet. I think they’re coming next week– shipping delays or something.” 

You turn to leave but stop in your tracks, attention stolen by Penelope’s drawing. As promised, it’s hung up– a few pieces of scotch tape secure it to the wall across from his desk. 

“I’m gonna get a frame for it,” Steve passes you with a toothy smile, flicking off the light. 

Penelope chimes in before you can respond, “Can I play jump rope?”

“I don't know if you know how, babe. I can teach you.” 

“I can! I did at school!”

“You did? I didn’t know that.” Steve waves to a passing coworker. “Maybe we’ll buy one for home too then.” 

Penelope nods, hopping the last stretch to the front door. 

“Any fun plans this weekend?” Steve asks you outside, bumping the back of Penelope’s hand until she takes his. The parking lot is almost empty at this time of day, but a few stragglers remain inside after hours. 

“If you think laundry is fun, then sure.” 

“Oh, I know all about that, trust me.” He nods at Penelope, “This one goes through more clothes in a week than I do in a month.” 

Steve approaches a BMW, only a few spots over from your car. An older model, but well taken care of. It’s a nice shade of burgundy with a stick-figure family on the back windshield. It feels so him. 

You hum a happy sound. “What about you? Any plans?” 

“Besides laundry? Well, we’re actually going kayaking at Red Fleet tomorrow,” he unlocks the passenger door, tucking the backpacks in the footwell. 

“Oh, fun! Are you excited?” You ask Penelope. 

“I’m gonna look for frogs.” 

She wrenches the handle a few times before her door flies open. Steve intercepts mid-swing to prevent her from denting the neighboring truck at the expense of his fingers. 

“Ow– shit,” he grimaces, shaking his wrist. He visibly swallows any other swears when he sees Penelope gawking, “Nell, I’ve told you to be gentle with the door.” 

“You said we can’t say that word,” she points out, climbing into her car seat.

You scrub your mouth, not so inconspicuously erasing your smile. 

“I– yes,” he nods, “You’re right. We shouldn’t say that word. I just–”

“Even when we’re frustrated; that’s what you said!” 

Steve takes a deep breath through his nose, choking down his several feelings. She’s right, he did say that, to hopefully stop her from swearing at preschool, but the profanity policing is comical coming from a four-year-old. And he can’t be laughing right now– he has parenting to do– but he’s on the verge of breaking when he catches sight of your face.  

Steve collects himself as he buckles her in. “Yes, Penelope. I shouldn’t have said it. I’m sorry.” 

She pats his head, “It’s okay. We all do mistakes.” 

Steve softens. The irritation evaporates instantly, replaced by a surge of satisfaction. This is one of those rare moments where he can so clearly recognize the lessons he’s instilled taking shape. 

He lets himself chuckle then, “We do. We all make mistakes and that’s okay.” 

She nods as he tightens her straps, “Like when I spilled my juice this morning.”

“Exactly.” He triple-checks that all her limbs are safely out of the door’s reach before shutting it.  

He faces you, scratching his cheek– rosy and round with joy. “How much you wanna bet she swears at me tomorrow?”

“Hey, I don’t doubt it!” Your elation mirrors his. 

“If she can’t find any frogs at the park I can almost guarantee it.” 

“Better help her look then.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I’d invite you but it’s reservation-based. And I’d be surprised if there’s any spots open still… But we can sneak you in if you really want to go.” It’s meant to be a joke, but something in the way he holds your gaze suggests a level of seriousness. 

“No, that’s okay,” you grin. “The pile of laundry on my bed awaits.”

“Well, maybe next time.” 

You try not to read into it. Steve’s a friendly guy, he probably invites his coworkers out to things all the time. 

You nod, idling at the hood of his beamer. 

“I really appreciate you watching her today. You’re a lifesaver, truly,” he shakes his head, peeking at Penelope through the window. “She’s been a handful lately– I mean, I had to pick her up early today because she bit another kid, can you believe that?” 

“She’s a kid,” you shrug, “All kids do that at some point.”  

“I don’t know,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “I’m honestly at my witts end. This is her third warning and if she gets kicked out of school— I don’t know what I’ll do.” 

“From what I saw today, she’s a really good kid, Steve. I can’t imagine they’d do that.” 

“I’ve just been so busy, you know, sometimes I wonder if she acts out because of that– and it’s just me so I can’t–” he pauses, wiping his face, “God– I’m sorry, you’re… I’m just dumping all of this on you when you’re trying to leave.”

“No! It’s okay, I don’t mind, really.” 

“It’s– Well, it’s a lot and I,” he’s cut short by Penelope knocking on the glass, impatience strewn across her features. 

He throws up his pointer finger to tell her one second. “We can talk next week. You’ll be here Friday?” 

“Yep. I will see you then,” you nod, backing up a step so he can cross over to the driver’s side. 

“Okay, thanks again,” he says, opening his door. 

You wave goodbye, “Of course. Have fun kayaking!” 

“You too!” He yells, then mumbles, “Shit.” 

“Dad!” Penelope’s voice scolds. 

A warmth simmers in your chest as you walk away– a fizzy feeling that had been bottled up and crammed into a forgotten corner of your body. But as soon as you’re settling into the privacy of your car, it boils over into this rush of giddy exhilaration, electrifying every inch of your skin. Giggles cut through the silence as your smile stretches wider, completely untamable. There’s no stopping this, not when you’re already fantasizing about a next time with Steve.

[antihcroes]

steve is a big abba fan, no matter the verse. and in modern verses and such he is a huge swiftie. and ... i know this is kind of a mixed/controversial opinion, but his vecna song is head over heels by tears for fears. (honestly probably just his favorite song of all time in general, and he likes their other songs as well)

[buck-star]

Dinner with the mobster | Bucky Barnes

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> Mob!Single!Dad!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> Your boss - who is also the most feared man in town - asks you to go out for dinner with him. When he suggests taking his daughter with him, you agree to go out with them.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 2.295

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> (G) none, just fluff

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 -> Hi I absolutely love your work. I was wondering if you could write a mob boss! Single dad!Bucky Barnes x reader. Feel free to ignore if it makes you uncomfortable. Thank you 🤎🤎

𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you so much for your nice words, they really mean a lot and thank you for the sweet request. I wanted to write more for Mob!Bucky and your request was the perfect opportunity to do so. I hope you like what I made with it.🩷🩷 Divider made by @firefly-graphics.

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 -> AFG Fluff Bingo | Row Two-One | First Date | @anyfandomfluffbingo

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

James Buchanan Barnes, the most popular mobster in town, has at least one hundred men who are protecting him and another one hundred men as well as women who clean his house, cook for him, or do other chores. His house - his villa - near the forest is almost not even in town anymore. The man could have every woman, and almost every woman admires him. He has long brown hair, mostly tied into a bun; his beard is trimmed; he has ocean blue eyes; and he has a smile that could light up the darkest night. James has a muscular body, is tall, and is just the dream of every woman. But even though he could have it all, he lives with his daughter alone. But he has an eye on someone, someone who doesn’t look really interested in him, which slightly confuses him but makes her more interesting for the mobster.

“Daddy, look what I found,” his princess says with a proud smile, holding up a book in her hands.

He furrows his eyebrows, his legs spread, while he sits on his couch and waits for the woman he asked to come into his office. In his hand, he holds a glass of his favorite Bourbon while he looks at his daughter. She walks closer to him, pushing herself up to sit on his lap before she holds the book closer to his face. James reads the title on it and smirks.

“That’s the book your friends - my employees - wrote into, isn’t it?” he asks with a smirk.

He told all his closest employees to write into the book after his princess was sad about having just four people - next to her - written into it. Those people were James, Sam, Steve, and Natasha. And then she asked her daddy if he knew if some more who wanted to write into it. Of course she also has friends, but the little girl prefers the big men around her, commanding them around like her daddy does, and he enjoys seeing his well-working education.

“Do you wanna see it?” she asks, kissing her daddy’s cheek softly.

The small girl looks like James - just the smaller, female version - but she has the same brown hair, ocean blue eyes, and the same smirk and pout on her lips as her daddy.

“But just until Y/N is here,” James says, and he turns his daughter around.

With his hands wrapped around her tummy, he looks over her shoulder. Her small back is pressed against his broad chest. Then she opens the book and waits for her daddy to start reading. James does, and his princess is always telling him something about the pictures before he can turn to the next side.

After a few minutes, it knocks at the door, and he looks up to see you standing there, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. You play with your fingers, looking down, while you just stand there and wait for James to give you instructions.

“I- I can- I’m sorry for distracting you,” you mumble when your nervousness grows.

“No, it’s fine. I asked you to come here, so please come in,” he says with his rough voice, and you shiver slightly.

When you met him for the first time, he was scary, and being so close to such a dangerous man can still be scary, but he is all soft and sweet around you and makes you feel like you are special to him. Little do you know you’re special to him, and he would buy the whole town, the moon, or the whole universe for you just to see your smile and hear you laughing while he is the reason for it.

James leans closer to his daughter, kissing her cheek before he lifts her off his lap and places her in front of him.

“Tell Uncle Stevie he has to give you some cookies,” James says, laughing when he sees his daughter jumping around with a giggle before she runs out of the room.

His ocean blue eyes then meet you again, and he gets off the couch as well. James walks closer to the door, gripping the doorknob while he waits for you to walk into the room to close the door behind you. It makes you a bit uncomfortable to be all alone with him in a room, but you know you’re safe.

“Wanna drink something, Bourbon? It’s a good one, my favorite bourbon.”

“N-no, thank you. I- Uhm- I’m fine, really,” you mumble.

You could face palm yourself when you realize what you just said. He didn’t want to know more, just if you wanted to have a drink. You inhale deeply while he leads you to the couch. When the two of you are taking a seat, he smiles and turns his head toward you.

“Do you have any plans for tonight?”

“N-no. I can take care of your daughter when you have plans for tonight.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” he laughs softly and takes a sip of his bourbon. “More like, do you have time to go out with me?”

Your mouth drops open, and you swallow hard, rubbing your palms over your pants to dry the sweat.

“I- You’re my boss, James,” you say quietly, turning your head away.

He chuckles softly and slides his hand to your back, stroking it softly while he takes another sip of his bourbon. The shiver along your spine makes him grin even more, and the way your body reacts to his touch lets him admire you even more.

“I’m not asking you, actually. Babydoll, let me take you out, please.”

“I-I don’t want to overstep boundaries. I- James, I should go back to my room,” you mumble.

Bucky chuckles; the way his body vibrates against yours sent another shiver along your spine. His thumb moves closer to your lips before he slides it over them, making you gasp. Your boss is so close, you can feel his hot breath on your skin; his touches are like electricity, causing more goosebumps all over your skin. Bucky leans closer, his lips almost touching your ear, inhaling your scent before he kisses your earlobe.

“How about we take Mia with us? You love her, and she loves you.”

None of the two of you mentioned that there are feelings between you and Bucky. You nod softly, but he sees it and smiles, kissing your earlobe again. Then he pulls away.

“I will pick you up in an hour,” he says, getting up, and you follow.

The two of you walk to the door. He opens it and runs his fingers over your back before you walk out of the room and to yours to change into something better to go out with your boss.

Like he told you, he is knocking at your door an hour later, wearing a suit - like always - his cologne all around you, and you smile softly when you look into his beautiful face. His brown hair is tied back, and he holds the tiny hand of his daughter. She is smiling at you as well as her daddy, both admiring you in your dress. Bucky in another way as the girl, but they both can’t get their eyes off of you. Bucky clears his throat and takes a step to the side, letting you walk out of the room.

“You look beautiful, doll.”

You blush, scratching the back of your neck.

“Daddy said we gonna go to my favorite restaurant,” she tells you with a proud smile.

You’re still not pretty sure what to say or how to act since your boss has invited you to go out with him. So you smile nicely and walk with him and Mia to the cars in the garage.

Bucky is a gentleman, opening the door for you, making sure you’re comfortable, but always taking care of his daughter too.

When you arrive at the restaurant, he takes your hand in his, stroking his thumb over the back of your hand. He makes sure you’re comfortable; otherwise, he would immediately let go of your hand. But there is not even a hint of discomfort on your face, just a small smile on your lips. Together with you and Mia, he walks to the entrance, letting the two of you walk into it before he follows you.

“Good evening,” the waiter says, his muscles tensing when he sees Bucky.

“Good evening, a table for three by the name of Barnes.”

The man in front of Bucky nods and shows you the table. You’re helping Mia out of her jacket and talking to her while you walk through the restaurant. The eyes of the people widen when they see James walking with his daughter and a woman through the room. He smirks when he offers you a seat, takes your and Mia’s jackets out of your hands, and sits across from you, smiling widely with his steel blue eyes piercing into yours. His tattoo-covered arms rest with the sleeves slightly up and his arms on the table, and he just admires you while you look between Mia and him with a small smile.

“Good evening. Have you already decided what you like to eat?” a woman asks, her smile shy, and her eyes dart from Bucky to you and back to the muscular man.

“As always, for my daughter and for me,” he says, then turns his face to you and smiles softly. “And you, doll?”

A shiver rushes through your body, and butterflies go crazy in your belly when he calls you by that nickname in front of other people. Then you look at the waitress and order your food as well. She just nods, takes the menus, and walks back to the kitchen.

“Y/N?” Mia asks, her hand touching yours.

“Yes?”

“Do you like daddy?”

You almost choke on your own saliva when she asks that. Of course you do; who doesn’t? He is a gentle and soft man; he is beautiful, muscular, and makes you laugh. You feel safe with him, not just because there are always some of his men around, but just because of him. On the other hand, he doesn’t act in a soft way with others like you always thought, which makes the feelings you have for him stronger. Bucky doesn’t say anything to the question; he just smirks and waits for you to answer, wanting to know what you think about him.

“I-I- He is nice, but he is my boss,” you mumble.

“But you like him?”

“Yes, but I like you too, Mia.”

“So do you want to be my new mommy?”

This question caught you off guard, and your jaw drops immediately. Bucky chuckles are low and rough, causing your skin to tingle. He makes you feel things you never thought you would feel, especially not for him. The most fearful man in town, a mobster. But also your boss, a wonderful and sweet man and daddy of a beautiful and cute daughter.

“Say yes, and I’m gonna make you mine tonight,” he says.

Your breath hitches, your body shakes softly in anticipation, and you nod. Do you want it? Want to be his? Of course, you definitely want to be his.

“Y-yes.”

Mia smirks, ready to throw herself around your neck, but the food arrives at your table and she learned manners from her daddy, so she just squirms a bit in her seat but starts eating and smirks the whole time at you. Your cheeks are red, and you fix the plate with food in front of you instead of facing Bucky. What if he just wanted to know what you feel for him, but he just wants to play with you? But he is just so soft with you and not with any other woman around him.

“Doll?” his rough voice interrupts your thoughts, and you look at him. “Please let me make you mine. I know the way you look at me, and you’re the only woman I want to have. I have loved you since we first met.”

“O-Oke. B-But I can’t work for you then. H-How can I pay for my things?”

“You don’t have to pay anything. Don’t forget who you’re talking to; you will get everything you need, and you just need to ask me,” he tells you with the softest smile you have ever seen.

When you nod again, his eyes light up, and he can’t help but get up to walk around the table. He gets on his knees next to you, capturing your cheeks with his big hands before he leans closer and presses his soft, plumb lips on yours. Kissing you in a way no one has ever kissed you before, so filled with love and passion. When you kiss him back, he smirks, pulling you even closer, and your hands grip his shoulder, your fingers sliding along his neck. Mia cheers quietly, giggling and looking at the two of you in awe while he bits into her nugget. You blush when Bucky leans back, his thumb stroking your lips, and his blue eyes say more than words could ever say.

“I love you, doll. My precious doll.”

“I-I love you, too.”

“Andddddd I love you. And my nuggies,” Mia says, holding her nugget up to show it.

“Yeah. We love you too, little girl,” Bucky laughs and kisses you again, then he gets up and takes his seat again to finish eating.

Your cheeks are still red, especially when you recognize that everyone in the restaurant was looking at the two of you. But when you look at Bucky, every fear fades away, and you feel just loved by him.

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨

𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬

┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛

Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @lives-in-midgard @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry