#jason carver
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They're dating for years and probably married ð€ (boss/employee)
ðªðªðª в вк Ме ÑепПÑÑОÑÑðªðªðª
MORE FROM HFR!AU
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Eddie's Christmas gift
my subs voted to share this one, I hope you guys like it ð
[Patre0n] [instagram] [Twitter] [BluSky]
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I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby, like y o u (insp x, x)
#strangerthingsedit#stedit#hellcheer#dailystrangerthings#strangerthingsdaily#filmtv#filmtvcentral#eddie munson#chrissy cunningham#jason carver#tusermaddy#eddissy#*#eddiemunsonsource#dailytv#stranger things#500#otp: you're a freak#1k#stgifs
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If stranger things cared about continuity with new characters they would have made Jason Carver the Mayorâs son.
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I think the similarity between Eddie and Jason are so fascinating and I hate that they're underexplored by a lot of the fandom. It's so clear in how they both treat Lucas.
Both Eddie and Jason believe they're offering Lucas a space to be safe and happy. That with them, specifically, he will find the place that he belongs. That they're the good guys who treat Lucas right.
Eddie seemingly did not know that Lucas actually cared about basketball enough to miss Hellfire. Maybe Lucas downplayed it so Eddie didn't see him as a 'traitor'.
Jason clearly did not know that Lucas was involved, or even so much as knew, about Hellfire. Lucas probably lied about where he was during campaigns or about Dustin and Mike so that Jason wouldn't see him as a 'traitor'.
When Eddie does find out how invested Lucas is in basketball, enough to prioritize it over Hellfire, he asks if Lucas has been "taken in by the darkside".
His club and the safety he may offer is conditional, exclusive, and going against what he personally likes is a personal betrayal.
When Jason finds out that Lucas is involved in Hellfire, albiet in very different circumstances, he has the same reaction. Even his reaction to Erica, Lucas' little sister, being involved in Hellfire is... suspicious.
It definitely makes it feel like any safety Jason and the team offer is conditional, exclusive, and involvement with the 'freaks' is a personal betrayal.
They aren't opposites at all. They're the same character. The only difference is the dressing.
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Jason, just go along with Eddie. Just for once.
#stranger things#eddie munson#jason carver#munver#tigerfreak#munver texts#munver memes#hellcheercaine#mine#almond tallcake eddie munson#eddie x jason
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ðððððððð ðððððð ðððððððððð:
ððððð¬ ððð¥ðð¥ð¢ð©ð
ðŽðððð ððð ð±ðððð¢ ðððð ððð ðð¢ð ðððððð ð ððð ðððð¢ ð ððððð, ððð ðððððð ð ððð ðððð¢ ð ððððð ððððððð ðð ð ððð ððððððð ᅵᅵðð, ððððð ððððð ððððð. ðððð¢ ðððððð ððð ððð / â ïž
ð/ð'ð ðððððð ððð ðððð ð ððð ð±ðððð¢ ð·ððððððð ððð ðð ðððð, ððd ððððð¢ ððð¢ ððððð ððððððððð ððð ð ðððð. ð±ðððð¢ ððð ððð ðð¢ð ððððð ððð ðððð ð¢/ð ððððð ððð ð ððð ððððð ððð ðŽðððð, ð ððð ððð ððð ðððð¢ ðððð ð ððð ððð. ð·ð ððð ðð ðððð ð ðððððð... / â ïž
ð±ðððð¢ ððððð ð¢/ð, ððð ððððð ððð ððð ðð ðð ð ððð ð ðððð ðððð ððððð'ð ðððð ððð, ðð ðððð. ð·ð'ð ððð ðððððð ððð ððððð ððð ððððð ðð ðð ðððð ððð ððð ðððð ðð ððððð ððð
ð/ð ðð ð ðððð¢ ððððððððð ðððð, ð ðððð ðððð ððð ððð¡ðð. ð·ðð ððððððð ððð ðð¢ð ððð ðð ððð ðð ð ðððððððð, ððð ðð ðððð ðððð ððð¢, ðððð¢'ðð ðððð ðð ðððð ðð ððððð ðð ððð ðððð ððð ðððð ððððð ððð
ð±ðððð¢'ð ððð ðð¢ð ððððððð ðððððð ððð ð ððð ððð ðððððð, ððð ððð¢ðððð ðð ððððððð ððð, ððð'ð ð ððð ð¢/ð. ðŒðð¢ðð ðððð ðððð ðð ðððð'ð ððð ðððððð ððð ð ððð ðŒðð¡ððð. ð·ð ððð ðððððð ððð ð¢/ð / â ïž
ðŽðððð ððð ð ððððð¢ ðððð, ðð ððððð¢ ðððð ðð ððð ð¢/ð ðð ððððððð ðð ðððð ððððððð ðððð ðð ððð ðð ð±ðððð¢'ð ððððð ððð ðð ð ððð ðð'ð ðððð ðððððððð ððð ð ðððð / â ïž
ð±ðððð¢'ð ðððð ðð ðð ððð ððð ðððððððððððð. ð·ð ððð ððð ð ððððððð ðð ð ðððð ðððð ððð ðð ððð ððð ðððððððð ðððððððððð. ðŽððð ððð ððððððððð¢
ð±ðððð¢ ððððð ðððððð ððððð ððð ðœðððð¢ ðððððððð. ðžð ððððð ððð ðððð ððð ððððð¢ ðð ððð ðð ðððð ðð ððððð ððððð¢ ðððð ðð ðððð ððð ððððð ðð ððððð ððððð ððððððð / ð³ïžâð
ððððððð ð²ðð ðððððð, ððððð ððð ðŽðððð ðððððð ð¢/ð ðððð ððððð ððððð ððððððð¢ ððððð ððððððð ðð "ððððððð" ððð ððð. ð/ð ððððððð ðððð ððð ððððððððð ððð¢ð ðð¢ð. ðœðð ðððð¢'ðð ðððð ðð ððð ðððððððððððððð / sáŽÊɪáŽs
ð¿ðððð¢ ððð¢ðððððð!ð±ðððð¢ ððð'ð ððððð ðððð ððð ððððððððððð ðððð ððððððð ð ððð ððððð ððð ðððð ðððð¢ ð ððð ððð. ð±ðððð¢ ððð ðððð ðð ð ðððððððð ðððð ðððð¢ ðððððð'ð ðððð¢ ððð ððð¢ "ðð" ððð
ð¿ðððð¢ ððððð¢!ð±ðððð¢ ððððððððððð ðððððððð ðððððð!ðððððð
ð±ððððð¢!ðððððð ððð'ð ð±ðððð¢ ððððð ððð ðððððð ððð ðððð ðððððð, ðŽðððð ðŒððððð'ð ðððð. ððð ð ððð ðð ðððððððððð
ððððð ððð ððð ðððððð ðð ð±ðððð¢'ð ððððð¢ððð, ðððð ðð ðð'ð ððð ðððððð ðð ððððð'ð ðððððððð / ð³ïžâð
ð±ðððð¢ ð·ððððððð ððððð ð³ðððð ðŒððððððððð¢, ððððððð ðð ððð ð ðððððððð!ðððððð
ððððð ð ðšð¡ðŠð¢ð¡
ð¶ðððð ðð ððð ð ðððððððð ðð¡ðð ðð ð ððð ðð ððððððððð. ðŽððððððððð¢ ð ððð ððð ðððððð ð ðð ð¢ððð ð·ððð ðððððð ððððð¢
ðŽðððð ððð ð±ðððð¢ ðððð ððð ðð¢ð ðððððð ð ððð ðððð¢ ð ððððð, ððð ðððððð ð ððð ðððð¢ ð ððððð ððððððð ðð ð ððð ððððððð ððð, ððððð ððððð ððððð. ðððð¢ ðððððð ððð ððð / â ïž
ð/ð ðð ð ðððð¢ ððððððððð ðððð, ð ðððð ðððð ððð ððð¡ðð. ð·ðð ððððððð ððð ðð¢ð ððð ðð ððð ðð ð ðððððððð, ððð ðð ðððð ðððð ðð¢, ðððð¢'ðð ðððð ðð ðððð ðð ððððð ðð ððð ðððð ððð ðððð ððððð ððð
ðŽðððð ððð ð ððððð¢ ðððð, ðð ððððð¢ ðððð ðð ððð ð¢/ð ðð ððððððð ðð ðððð ððððððð ðððð ðð ððð ðð ð±ðððð¢'ð ððððð ððð ðð ð ððð ðð'ð ðððð ðððððððð ððð ð ðððð / â ïž
ðððððð ððððð ðððð ððð ððð ð ððððð¢ ðððð ððððð ððð ðððð-ð³ðð ðððð ð ðððð ðð ððð. ðœðð ððð'ð ð ðððð ððð ðð ðððð
ðºðððð ðððð'ð ðððððð ð¢ðð ðððð ððð ððððð ðð ðð¢, ððð ðð¢ ððð ð ðð¢ ðŽðððð ððððð ð ððð ðð ðððð ððð ððððððð ððððð ðððððð, ðððð ððð ðððð ð ðð¢ðð ðð ð ðð¢ ððððððððð¢
ððððððð ð²ðð ðððððð, ððððð ððð ðŽðððð, ðððððð ð¢/ð ðððð ððððð ððððð ððððððð¢ ððððð ððððððð ðð "ððððððð" ððð ððð. ð/ð ððððððð ðððð ððð ððððððððð ððð¢ð ðð¢ð. ðœðð ðððð¢'ðð ðððð ðð ððð ðððððððððððððð / sáŽÊɪáŽs
ðŽðððð ð ðð ðððððððð ððð ðððððð about ððð ðððð ððððððð ð¢/ð ððð ððen ððððð. ðŽððð ðððððð ðð ð ðð ðð ððð ð ðððð, ðð ððð ðð ðððð ððð ð ððð ððððððð ðð ððð ðððððð ððð ð ðð ᅵᅵðð ððððð / â ïž
ðŽðððð ððð ððð ðð¢ð ðððð ððððð ððð ð¢/ð. ðœðð ðð ððð ðð ðð ððððð ððððð, ððð ðððð ðððð, ð¢/ð ð ðð ð ðððð / â ïž
ðŽðððð'ð ðððð ðððððð ððð ððððð ðð ððððð ðð ð ððð ðð ðððððð ððð ððððð. ðŽðððð ðððð ððð ðððððððððð ðð ððððð ððððð ððð ðððð ððð ððððð ðððð ð ðððð ððð ðððððð ð ððð ððððð ðððð / ð³ïžâð
ðŽðððð ðððððð'ð ððððððð ððð ðð¢ðð ð ððð ðð ððð ð±ðððð¢ ð·ððððððð ððððð ð¢/ð'ð ððððð. ð·ð ðððð ððð ððððð ððð ððð. ððð'ð ððððððð, ððð ððð¢ðð ðð'ðð ðððð ðð ðððð ððð
ð¿ðððð¢ ðŽðððð ððð ððð ð ððððð ðð ð¢/ð ððððð ððð ðððððððð ð¢ððð. ð·ð ððððððð'ð ðð ððððððð ðð ðððð ððððððð ðð ððð ððð ð ðð¢ ðð ðððð, ððð ðð ððð'ð ðððððð ðð. ð·ð ððððð ððð. ðŽððð ðð ðððð ððððð ðð ðððð¢ ðððð ððð / â ïž
ðŽðððð ððð ðððððð ðððð ððððð ðððð ððð ðð¢ðð ðð ðððððð ððð ð ðð ðððð ððð ðð ððð ðð ððððððððððððð. ð°ðððð ð ððð ððð ðððð ððð ððð ð ððððð ðð ððððððð!ð¹ðððð ð²ððððð, ðŽðððð ððð ðð ððð ð¢/ð ðððð ððððððð ððð ðððððððððð¢ ð ððð ðð ððð¡ððððð¢ / â ïž
ðŽðððð ððð ðððððð ððð'ð ðððð ððððððð ððððð ððððð ðð ðð¢ ðð ððð ðð ððððð ðððð ðððððð ððð¢ðððð . ððð ðððððð ðððð, ððð ððððð'ð ðððð ðð. ðŽðððð ððð ðð ððððððð¢ ðððð ð ððððð ðððð
ð¿ðððð¢ ððð¢ðððððð!ð±ðððð¢ ððð'ð ððððð ðððð ððð ððððððððððð ðððð ððððððð ð ððð ððððð ððð ðððð ðððð¢ ð ððð ððð. ð±ðððð¢ ððð ðððð ðð ð ðððððððð ðððð ðððð¢ ðððððð'ð ðððð¢ ððð ððð¢ "ðð" ððð
ð±ðððð ðððððððððð ð ððð ðŽðððð ððððð'ð ðððð ðððð¢. ðœðð ð ððð ð¹ðððð ð²ððððð ðð ðððððð ðð ðððð ððððð¢ ðððððð ððððð ðŽðððð ððððð ðððððð. ðŽððð ðð ðð ððððð ððððððððð£ððð ððð ððð ðððððð ðððððððððð / â ïž
ððððð ððð ðððððð ððððð ðð ððð ðððððð ððð ð ððð¢ððð ðð ðððð ððð ðŽðððð. ð»ðð'ð ðððð ððð¢ ð
ðððððð!ðŽðððð'ð ðððððð ððð ðððð ððð ðððððð ðððð ðððð ððð, ð ððð ðð ð ððð ðððð ððððð, ð ðð ððð ðððð ðððððð, ðððððð ðð ððð ðððððð!ðððð ðððððð'ð ððððð ð ððð ðŽðððð ððððð ðððððð ððð / â ïž áŽÉŽÒɪɎɪsÊáŽáŽ
sáŽÊɪáŽs
ðŽðððð ᅵᅵðð ððð ðð¢ð ðððð ððððððð ðð ððððð. ð·ð ð ððððð ð¢/ð ððð ðð ðððð ðð ð ðð ðððððð ððð ððð. ðŒðð¢ðð ð ðððð ððð'ð ððð¢ððð, ððð ð ððð ðððððð ððð ðððð ððð ðððð ððððððð ððð ðððð / â ïž
ðððððð ð ððð ððð¢ ðŽðððð ððð ððð ðð ðððð ðð ððð ðð¡ððð ðððð. ðœðð ððð'ð ðððððððð ððð, ððð ððð ððð'ð ðððððð ððð ððððððð / â ïž
ðððððð ððððð'ð ð ððð ðð ðð ðððð ð ððð ðð ððððð ðð ðŽðððð ðŒððððð ððððð ððð ððððð
ðððððð ð ððððð ððððð¢ðððð ððððððð ðð ððð ðððð ðððððð, ððð ðð ððððð ððð, ððð ððð ðð ððð ððð ðððð ððððð ððððð ðð ðððððððð ððð
ð±ððððð¢!ðððððð ððð'ð ð±ðððð¢ ððððð ððð ðððððð ððð ðððð ðððððð, ðŽðððð ðŒððððð'ð ðððð. ððð ð ððð ðð ðððððððððð
ðŠð§ðð©ð ððð¥ð¥ðð¡ðð§ð¢ð¡
ð±ðððð¢ ððððð ðððððð ððððð ððð ðœðððð¢ ðððððððð. ðžð ððððð ððð ðððð ððð ððððð¢ ðð ððð ðððð ðð ððððð ððððð¢ ðððð ðð ðððð ððð ððððð ðð ððððð ððððð ððððððð / ð³ïžâð
ððððððð ð²ðð ðððððð, ððððð ððð ðŽðððð, ðððððð ð¢/ð ðððð ððððð ððððð ððððððð¢ ððððð ððððððð ðð "ððððððð" ððð ððð. ð/ð ððððððð ðððð ððð ððððððððð ððð¢ð ðð¢ð. ðœðð ðððð¢'ðð ðððð ðð ððð ðððððððððððððð / sáŽÊɪáŽs
ðŽðððð'ð ðððð ðððððð ððð ððððð ðð ððððð ðð ð ððð ðð ðððððð ððð ððððð. ðŽðððð ðððð ððð ðððððððððð ðð ððððð ððððð ððð ðððð ððð ðððð ðððð ððð ðððððð ð ððð ððððð ðððð / ð³ïžâð
ðŽðððð ððð ðððððð ððð'ð ðððð ððððððð ððððð ððððð ðð ðð¢ ðð ððð ðð ððððð ðððð ðððððð ððð¢ðððð . ððð ðððððð ðððð, ððð ððððð'ð ðððð ðð. ðŽðððð ððð ðð ððððððð¢ ðððð ð ððððð ðððð
ð¿ðððð¢ ððð¢ðððððð!ð±ðððð¢ ððð'ð ððððð ðððð ððð ððððððððððð ðððð ððððððð ð ððð ððððð ððð ðððð ðððð¢ ð ððð ððð. ð±ðððð¢ ððð ðððð ðð ð ðððððððð ðððð ðððð¢ ðððððð'ð ðððð¢ ððð ððð¢ "ðð" ððð
ððððð ððð ðððððð ððððð ðð ððð ðððððð ððð ð ððð¢ððð ðð ðððð ððð ðŽðððð. ð»ðð'ð ðððð ððð¢ ð
ðððððð!ðŽðððð'ð ðððððð ððð ðððð ððð ðððððð ðððð ðððð ððð, ð ððð ðð ð ððð ðððð ððððð, ð ðð ððð ðððð ðððððð, ðððððð ðð ððð ðððððð!ðððð ðððððð'ð ððððð ð ððð ðŽðððð ððððð ðððððð ððð / â ïž áŽÉŽÒɪɎɪsÊáŽáŽ
sáŽÊɪáŽs
ð±ððð¢ðððððð!ðððððð ððð ð ððððð ðð ðððððððð ð³ðð!ððððð ð·ððððððððð ððð ððððð ð ððððð¢ ðððð
ððððð'ð ðððð ðððððð ððððð ðððð ðððð ððððððð ððð ððð ðð ðð ðððððð¢ ððððððð ðð ððð ðððððð
ððððð ððð ððð ðððððð ðð ð±ðððð¢'ð ððððð¢ððð ðððð ðð ðð ððð ðððððð ðð ððððð'ð ðððððððð / ð³ïžâð
ðððŠð¢ð¡ ððð¥ð©ðð¥
ð¶ðððð ðð ððð ð ðððððððð ðð¡ðð ðð ð ððð ðð ððððððððð. ðŽððððððððð¢ ð ððð ððð ðððððð ð ðð ð¢ððð ð·ððð ðððððð ððððð¢
ðŽðððð ððð ðððððð ðððð ððððð ðððð ððð ðð¢ðð ðð ðððððð ððð ð ðð ðððð ððð ðð ððð ðð ð ðððððððððððð. ð°ðððð ð ððð ððð ðððð ððð ððð ððððð ðð ððððððð!ð¹ðððð ð²ððððð, ðŽðððð ððð ðð ððð ð¢/ð ðððð ððððððð ððð ðððððððððð¢ ð ððð ðð ððð¡ððððð¢ / â ïž
ð±ðððð ðððððððððð ð ððð ðŽðððð ððððð'ð ðððð ðððð¢. ðœðð ð ððð ð¹ðððð ð²ððððð ðð ðððððð ðð ðððð ððððð¢ ðððððð ððððð ðŽðððð ððððð ðððððð. ðŽððð ðð ðð ððððð ððððððððð£ððð ððð ððð ðððððð ðððððððððð / â ïž
ððððð ððððð ðððððððððð:
ð¥ððð ððð ðð¥ð¢ð¡
ððð ð ðððð ðððð ððððððð ðððð ððððð ðð ð ððð ðð ðððð ðð ð ðð ðððððððð? ðœð ððð ððð ð¢/ð, ððð ðððð ððððð ðððð ððð ðððð ððð ððð ððððððððð. ðððð ð ððð ð¹ð¹ ðððð ðð ððð¢ ððððð ðððð? sáŽÊɪáŽs
ð·ð ðððð ð ðð'ð ð ðððð, ððð ðð ð ððð? ð·ð'ð ðððð ððððððð ððð ðð ðððð ððððð¢ ð ðððð ðð ð ðððð -- ðððððð ðð'ð ð ðððððð ðððð ðð ððð ðððð-ðððððð /â ïž
ðððð ððð ðð¢ð ððð'ð ð ððð ðððððð ððð¢ ððð ðððð ððð ðððð. ð°ðððð ððððð¢ ðð ðððð, ðð ððð ðð ððððð ð¢/ð ðð ððððð¢ððð ð ðððð ðððð ð ðð ððð ððððððð ðð. ðððððððððð¢ ððð ð¢/ð, ð¹ð¹ ð ðð ððððð ðð ðððððð ð ððð ðððð ðððð / â ïž
ð±ðððð ðð ðððð ð ððð ð¹ð¹'ð ðððððð ð ððð'ð ððððððððð ðððð ððððððð, ððð ðð ðððððððð. ð·ð ððððð ðð ððð ððððððð ððð ððð ð¹ð¹'ð ððððð ðð ðððð ððð ðððð ððð ððð, ððð ððð ð ðð ððððððððð. ð·ð ððð ðð ðððð ððð ððð ðððð ðð ððððð ððð
ð±ðððð ðððð'ð ðð¡ ðð ððððððð¢ððð, ðððððððððð¢ ð ððð ðð'ð ðððððððð ððð ððð'ð ððð ððð ððððððð ðð ððððððð ððð ðð ððð ððððððð. ðððððð ððð'ð ððððð ððð ðð ððð ðððð ðð ððððð ððð ð ðððððð ðððð ððð / â ïž sáŽÊɪáŽs
ð¿ððð ððð ðððð ðððð, ððð ððð ðððððð ðð ððððð ðððððð ðð ðððð ððð ððððððð ððððð ðð ððððð ðððð. ðððð'ð ððð ðð¢ð ððððð ððð ððððððð ðð ððððððð ððððð ð¿ððððð, ððð ððððð ðð ðð ððððððð, ðð ð ððð ð¢/ð ðððððð ð ðððð ððð ððð / â ïž áŽÉŽÒɪɎɪsÊáŽáŽ
sáŽÊɪáŽs
ð¹ð¹ ððððððð ððð ðððð ððððððð ðððð ð ððð ðððð ððð ððð ððððð¢. ððððððð , ðð ððð'ð ðððð ððð ð ðððð ððððð ðð ð ðð ððð ðððð ðð ðððððð ððð ððð ððð ðððððð¢ðð / áŽáŽáŽ
áŽáŽáŽáŽ
ᎠáŽÊsɪáŽáŽ
ð±ðð£ð£ððð!ðððð ð²ðððððð'ð ðððððððððð ððð'ð ððð ðð ððð ððððððð ððð¢ððððððð ðððð ðð ðð'ð ðððððð ððð ððð
ðð ð ðð¬ððð¡ð
ððð ð ðððð ðððð ððððððð ðððð ððððð ðð ð ððð ðð ðððð ðð ð ðð ðððððððð? ðœð ððð ððð ð¢/ð ððð ðððð ððððð ðððð ððð ðððð ððð ððð ððððððððð. ðððð ð ððð ð¹ð¹ ðððð ðð ððð¢ ððððð ðððð?
ð¹ð¹ ððððððð ððð ðððð ððððððð ðððð ð ððð ðððð ððð ððð ððððð¢. ððððððð , ðð ððð'ð ðððð ððð ð ðððð ððððð ðð ð ðð ððð ðððð ðððððð ððð ððð ððð ðððððð¢ðð / áŽáŽáŽ
áŽáŽáŽáŽ
ᎠáŽÊsɪáŽÉŽ
ð¹ð¹ ðððð ðð ðððððð¢!ððððððð ððððð ðð ððððððð ððð ððððð ð ððððð ðð ððððð ððð ððð ððð, ððð¢ððð, ðð ððð'ð ððððð ððð ððððð ððð ððððð ðððððð ðð ᅵᅵððð ðð ð ððð ð¹ð¹
ð§ð¢ð£ð£ðð¥ ð§ðð¢ð¥ð¡ð§ð¢ð¡
ð±ðððð ðððð'ð ðð¡ ðð ððððððð¢ððð, ðððððððððð¢ ð ððð ðð'ð ðððððððð ððð ððð'ð ððð ððð ððððððð ðð ððððððð ððð ðð ððð ððððððð, ðððððð ððð'ð ððððð ððð ðð ððð ðððð ðð ððððð ððð ð ðððððð ðððð ððð / â ïž sáŽÊɪáŽs
ððð 100 ðððððððððð:
ðððððð ð¬ ððððð
ð°ðððð ðððððððð ð¹ððð, ð±ðððððð¢ ðððððð ððð ððð ð ðððððððððð ððð, ððð ðð ðððððð ððððð ððð ðð ðð ð¢/ð ðð ðððð ðð ððð ðððð. ð·ðð ðððð ððð ððð ðððð , ððð ðð ðððð ððð ðð ððð ððð / áŽÉªÉŽÉª sáŽÊɪáŽs / â ïž
ð±ðððð ðð ððð ðððððð ð ððð ðððððð ð ðð ðððð ð¢ðð ðððð ððððððð ðð ððððð ðððððððð ðð ððð ðð ððð ðððððððð ðððððð ð¢/ð ððððð ðð ððððððð. ð±ðððððð¢ ðððð ððð ðððððð ððð ððððððð ðð ðððð ððð ððð ð ð ððð ððð ðððð ð¢/ð ððððððððð ðð ðððð ðð ððð ðððððð
ð±ðððððð¢ ððð ðððð ðŒðððð¢ ððð ð¹ððððð ððððð ðððððð ð¢/ð ðððððð. ð°ðððð ðð ððððð ðð ððððð ððððð, ðð ðððð ð¢/ð ðððð ðð ððð ðððð, ððð ðð ððð ððððððð, ððð ððððððð ððð ððððð ððð
ððððððð ðððð ðððððð, ð²ðððð ðððð ðððððððð ð ððð ð±ðððððð¢ ððð ðððððð ðð ððððððð. ð±ðððððð¢ ððððððð ððð ððððð, ðð ðð ððð¢ð ððð ð ððððð ðð ððð ðððð ðð ððððððð ððð ððððð ðð ðððððð'ð ðððð ððððððð ðððð ðððð ðððððð ððð ð ðððð ðððð. ð·ð ðððððð ð¢/ð
ð±ðððððð¢ ððððð ððð ððððððððð, ðð ðð ððððð ððð ðððððð!ðððððð ððð ðð ððððð ðð ððð ð ðððð. ð°ðð ðððð ðððððð ððððð, ðððððð ððð ðððððð£ð ðððð ððð ðððð ðððððð ðððððð ððð ðððð ðð ððð ðððð
ððððððððð:
ðð¢ððð¬ ðð¥ð¢ðð
ð°ð ðððð ððð, ð²ðððð¢ ðððððð ðð ððððððð ðð ððððððð ðð ð ððð, ððð ðð ððð'ð ð ððð ððð ðð ððð ððððððð ðððð ððððððððð, ððð ððððð ððð ððððð ðð ððð ððð¢ ððð¢. ð·ð ððð'ð ððð ðððð ðððððð / â ïž
ð²ðððð¢ ððð ððð ðð¢ð ðððð ðððððððð ð ððð ððððð ððððððð ðððð. ðµððððððð ððððᅵᅵðð ððð ðð ð ððððð ðð ððð ðð ððððððð ððððð, ðððð ðð ð¢/ð ðððð'ð ðððððððððð ðð
ð²ðððð¢ ððððð ð ððð ð¢ðð ððð'ð ðððððð ðð ððð, ððð ð ðð ðð ðð ðð ðððð ð¢ðð, ð ðððð ð ð ðððð ð ððð ðð ðð? ðŸð, ð¢ðð'ðð ððð / â ïž
âïžïž
ðððð ððððð ððð-ðððð:
"ɪ áŽ
áŽsáŽÊᎠᎠÊáŽáŽ" - ÊáŽÒᎠáŽáŽáŽáŽÊáŽÉŽ
áŽÉŽáŽáŽáŽ ÊáŽáŽ áŽáŽ. - áŽáŽ
áŽ
ɪᎠáŽáŽÉŽsáŽÉŽ
áŽ
ᎠÊáŽáŽ áŽÊáŽáŽáŽ áŽÊ sÇ«áŽÉªÊáŽ? - sáŽÊ!sáŽáŽáŽ ᎠÊáŽÊÊɪɢɎáŽáŽÉŽ x sáŽÊ!ÊáŽáŽáŽ
áŽÊ x áŽ
áŽáŽ!áŽáŽ
áŽ
ɪᎠáŽáŽÉŽsáŽÉŽ
áŽáŽáŽÉŽ!ÊáŽÊÊáŽáŽÊ ÊÊáŽáŽáŽ x É¢ÊáŽáŽÉŽáŽ
áŽÊ!ÊáŽáŽáŽ
áŽÊ
ÊáŽáŽ¢áŽ¢áŽáŽáŽ!ÊáŽÒᎠáŽáŽáŽáŽÊáŽÉŽ x ÊáŽáŽáŽ
áŽÊ
ÊáŽÊÊÊ!ÊɪÊÊÊ ÊáŽÊÉ¢ÊáŽáŽ Ꭰx ɪɎɎáŽáŽáŽÉŽáŽ!ÊáŽáŽáŽ
áŽÊ
ðððð ððððð ðððððð:
ÒáŽÊÊɪáŽ
(áŽáŽÊᎠáŽÉŽáŽ)
ÒáŽÊÊɪáŽ
(áŽáŽÊᎠáŽáŽ¡áŽ)
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#billy hargrove#eddie munson#steve harrignton#jason carver#rafe cameron#jj maybank#topper thornton#bellamy blake#colby brock#billy hargrove smut#eddie munson smut#steve harrington smut#rafe cameron smut#jj maybank smut#topper thornton smut#bellamy blake smut#billy hargrove x reader#eddie munson x reader#steve harrington x reader#rafe cameron x reader#jj mayback x reader#topper thorton x reader#bellamy x reader#colby x reader#steddie#steve x billy#billy x steve#steve harrington x billy hargrove#steve x eddie#bucky barnes
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ðð€ðª ðŸð¡ðð£ð ð©ð€ ðð€ðªð§ ððð¥ðð§ðš ðð£ð ððð£ðš (ðððð© ðð£ð©ðð¡ ðð€ðª ððð ð ðð ðŒðððð£) / Part One
â£ïž ðŠðð²ðð² ðð®ð¿ð¿ð¶ð»ðŽððŒð» ð
ðð²ðº!ð¥ð²ð®ð±ð²ð¿
â£ïž Steve remembers the exact moment he ruined everything. He remembers when those blinds closed for the last time, and he lost you for good. But, itâs been a year since then, and Steve is determined to make you fall in love with him again.
â£ïž wc: 16.4k
â£ïž notes: ððððš ð©ð€ ð¡ð€ð«ðð§ðš, ðšððð€ð£ð ðððð£ðð ð§ð€ð¢ðð£ðð, ðð€ð€ð ðšð©ð€ð§ð!ððª, jason carver gets handsy with reader but nothing happens, some cussing
reblogs are greatly appreciated ! <3
September, 1979
Youâd met Steve Harrington a week before your first day of seventh grade. Youâd just moved to Hawkins from some small town in Pennsylvania - apparently your parents were big on the small town life - and you had been terrified.
Youâd spent your entire life with the same group of kids and the same friends. You didnât want to leave them, but you didnât have any choice. And to a thirteen-year-old you, it felt like your parents were stabbing you in the back.
You still remember the tears that rolled down your cheeks as you helped your parents move the boxes holding your childhood items out of the U-Haul and into your brand new bedroom. Your mom did her best to cheer you up, âLook,â She spoke softly, tugging you into her side, âItâs so much bigger than your old room. Isnât that nice?â
You just cried harder.
It was true, your dads new job in Hawkins was rolling in money like your family had never seen before, but you didnât care about those kinds of things, you never had. You cared about the people and the memories you had to leave behind.
But, of course, none of that mattered at this point. Youâd left. You still had your friends' numbers memorized, but how long would it be before it faded from your mind, and your number faded from theirs? The thought made you nauseous.
You spent that first night sniffling, surrounded by scattered cardboard boxes and various items. You didnât even have your bed frame yet, the U-Haul had gotten delayed for whatever reason, so you were stuck with a mattress laid onto the dusty hardwood floor.
But, like there is with almost everything, there was a silver lining. Your books.
To most people, books are just that. Books. Theyâre boring, expensive, and seen as a way to waste time and nothing else. They donât see them for what they really are.
To you (and your friends back home), a book was an escape. It was the perfect way to spend your time and the perfect hobby, and right now, it was the only thing keeping you from breaking down.
Your current book was about four sisters who all were navigating through different paths in life, and all finding different ways to deal with the world around them. It was a classic, and you saw a bit of yourself in all of the sisters. (The painter a little more than the others in all honesty.)
It was simple yet complex in all the right places and definitely one of your favorite books this year. You continue to read it through glassy eyes, doing your best to keep your mind off of your current situation, when suddenly thereâs a bang at your window.
You jump up, arms instinctively hugging the open book to your chest. There was another one, and then another, and then another, before you finally swallow harshly and work up the courage to approach the glass. You placed your book gently onto the hardwood next to you, the spine up as it laid flat, and softly padded towards the noise.
Goosebumps rose onto your skin as you did, your short clad legs attempting to get used to the cold air around you now that youâd left the safety of your blankets.
At first, you couldnât make anything out except for the house next to you and the starry night sky, but then you saw the cause of the noise. A rock. Someone was throwing rocks at your window.
You furrowed your brows and looked towards the ground, and low-and-behold some boy was standing outside your window. He had dark brown hair, wore a green sweatshirt with what youâre assuming is a school logo on it, and gray shorts.
Hesitantly, you unlocked your window and hauled it up, but not before another rock hurled its way straight at your neck. It hit you smack in the middle of your throat, causing you to choke for a moment and grab at the area. âOw!â
The boy winced and immediately dropped the rest of the rocks in his hand, (why did he have so many rocks? At least ten fell out of his hand!) âSorry!â He yelled out.
You glared at him, hand rubbing soothingly at your now sore throat, âWho are you?â
âUh, Steve - Steve Harrington. I live next door.â He pointed at the house next to you, âYou see that window?â He gestured to the one directly across from your own, âThatâs my room.â
You nodded, eyes narrowing into thin slits, âAlright, Steve. If your room is right across from mine, why didnât you just stay up there instead of going through the trouble of pelting rocks at me?â
Steve stills for a moment, and you can physically see the gears turning in his head. âUm,â He stumbles for a moment, âGive me one second.â You can hear him practically sprinting back into his house, his sandals smacking against the ground as he goes, and you canât help but snicker.
Youâd be lying if you said that you didnât find the twenty seconds youâd spent with the boy so far to be the most enjoyable of this whole week, but it had. It was almost strange to you - to be talking to a boy. All of your friends back home had been girls, and you mostly stayed away from the boys. To you, they felt like unknown territory. What did they like to talk about? What did they like to do for fun? Did they have any interest in a girl like you? Would they ever have any interest in a girl like you?
All of your friends had had a boy like them at some point in time, some of them had already had boyfriends! But not you. No, never you.
Boys didnât look at you. Steve was the first to ever even show any interest in you at all. It made your stomach flutter.
Soon enough, the light across from you flicks on and you watch curiously as Steve stumbles across piles of clothes and other knick-knacks to reach you. He struggles with the window for a second, before it suddenly pops open with a slight screech.
âHey,â He smiled, breaths coming out a bit heavy.
Your lips twitched upwards at the corners, âWelcome back.â You teased.
Steve slapped his arms at his sides and let his head dip to the side, his eyes rolling a bit as he did, âIâm sure you missed me.â
You furrowed your brows, âYou were gone for, like, five seconds. And I donât even know you. Why would I miss someone I donât know?â
âUh, because I'm super buff and attractive?â
A snort slipped from you at that comment, âYeah, okay. Keep tellingâ yourself that.â
âI will.â
Thereâs a short pause between the two of you, and you nibble on your bottom lip. Youâd never been able to banter so easily with many other people before. It made you excited.
âSoooo, where are you from?â Steve asks, effectively breaking the silence.
You sighed and leaned your elbows against the sill, your chin falling atop your hands, âPennsylvania.â You answered dryly.
Steve nodded and copied your actions so that you were face to face, âIâve never been there. I mean, my dad has for his work, but I never have personally.â He rambles.
You click your tongue, âThatâs cool.â
Steve nods slowly, âWhyâd you guys move?â
âAre you interrogating me?â
âYou donât have to answer if you donât want to.â
You quickly shake your head, âNo, I do. I just wasnât expecting so many questions,â you chuckled, nervously tucking a stray piece if hair behind your ear, âUm, my dad got a new job here. Some bank job or something, Iâm not really sure.â
Steve perked up, âMy dad works at the bank too! Maybe they work together.â
You shrugged, âMaybe.â
Steve licked his lips and glanced down at the ground below you. The both of you were only on the second story, but the grass felt so much farther away then it really was. âYou donât seem very excited about it.â
You bit your lip, eyes darting across his tanned skin. The summer had done wonders on him, but you were sure the upcoming school year would fade it away. âBecause Iâm not.â
âWhy?â
You gave him a look, âWould you wanna move away from all your friends?â
Steve paused to think for a moment. To him, leaving Tommy and Carol wouldnât be the worst idea in the world. He could start over and ditch the reputation heâd built, but he knew that wasnât the answer you were looking for, so instead he said, âNo, I guess not.â
You gestured with your hand and huffed out a breath, âMy point exactly.â
Steve shrugged, âWell, Hawkins isnât all bad. Itâs not like thereâs monsters hiding out around here or something.â He joked.
You could help but laugh along with him. There was something about the way he always had something positive to say to make you feel better, or maybe that was just how you were observing him in the last ten minutes. âYouâre funny, you know that?â
Steve scoffed out a laugh, standing back and crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt to look nonchalant, âDuh, of course I know that.â
You snickered, âDon't let it get to your head.â
âToo late. I can already feel my skull growing to accommodate.â
Your body shook as you laughed, moving your face under your hands to hide yourself. Steve mentally fist pumped at making you laugh like that, and he prayed heâd hear it again, and soon.
Once your laughter died down and all was left was silence, Steve asked, âAre you going to Hawkins Middle for school? Or did your parents enroll you in that Catholic place down the street?â
You shrugged, âWell, Iâve never heard of the Catholic place down the street, so Iâm gonna say Hawkins Middle.â
Steve grinned, âGreat! I go there, too. You can totally sit with me at lunch and stuff.â
âIâd be grateful to be allowed in your presence.â You tease, pretending to bow your head.
Steve just smirked, âIâd expect nothing less.â
You and Steve spent practically all night talking. Heâd gone down to his kitchen at some point for a snack and came back upstairs with two bowls of chips. After many failed attempts, some including one of you nearly falling to your death, you were able to grab the chip bowl meant for you.
Once both of you were full and content, it was already nearing midnight. If your parents saw you up and talking to Steve, youâd be in so much trouble.
âI think Iâd better head to bed.â You mumbled, a sad smile on your face.
Steve nodded and wiped his palms on his pants, âYeah, me too.â
You didnât want this to be a one time thing in all honesty. You really, really enjoyed talking to Steve, and you hoped he really, really enjoyed talking to you as well.
You opened your mouth to tell him so, but decided against it, so all that fell from your lips was a simple, âGoodnight, Steve.â
He gave you a sappy smile, âGoodnightâŠâ His eyebrows furrowed and he blinked excessively, âWait, you never told me your name.â
He was right. You hadnât realized it, but you never thought to tell Steve your name.
âItâs Y/N.â
Steve just chuckled and placed his hands above his head onto the window, âGoodnight, Y/N.â
â£ïž
That following week had been filled with late night conversations between you and Steve. Theyâd always start the same - youâd be laying in your bed reading a book (youâd gotten your bed frame finally), Steve would throw something at your window, and then youâd talk and share a bowl of chips.
In all honesty, this tradition had become your rock. It felt like the one thing that was really yours in this new town.
That last night before the first day of school, Steve had seemed troubled, his brows crinkled and he wasnât talking as much as he normally did.
âWhats wrong?â You asked hesitantly. You werenât sure if you and Steve were at the point in your relationship where you could be open with each other. In all honesty, you were expecting him to say something like oh, iâm fine or nothing, why? But he didnât, instead he said, âIâm worried about tomorrow.â
You furrowed your brows. Steve had been practically shouting from the rooftops how excited he was for you to meet all of his friends just two days before. âWhy?â You asked, âI thought you were excited?â
Steve bit his lip, âI was.â He sighed, âBut I went to this pool party at a friends house today and it just.. it reminded me of some stuff Iâd forgotten about.â Well, that explained his fresh tan.
You werenât sure how to reply to him. You didnât want to push him or make him feel pressured to say anything, but you were also curious. âWas it.. was it bad?â
Steve sighed and ran a hand through his hair, âHonestly? Um, kind of.â He groaned, eyes shut as he tried to find the words, âTommy and Carol⊠theyâre not the best people. And I know that I shouldnât be friends with them but,â he paused and rubbed the bridge of his nose. You wanted to reach out and comfort him. âI feel like I owe them, you know? I was a real lonely kid and they were the first people who ever made an attempt to get to know me, but nowâŠâ He trailed off, his forehead hitting the windowsill as he dipped his head.
You bit your lip, unsure of what to say. You didnât know Tommy or Carol, the only things you knew about them were what Steve had said, which were only good things.
You crossed your knees, left heel popped as you nibbled on your lower lip in thought. If Steve really felt this bad about whatever they were doing, then the right thing would be to distance from them, but you didnât know his situation. To Steve, he felt as if he owed them something, even though friendship isnât something that should have to be repaid.
You sucked in a breath, socked feet tapping rapidly at the hardwood below you, âItâs okay to grow out of friendships, you know?â You mumbled. âItâs happened to me, and we both parted ways happily without some big, dramatic fallout. If you really feel that way about them, maybe itâs time you do the same.â
Steve was silent for a few moments, and you couldnât help but feel badly for him. âThanks Y/N, butâŠâ He took a deep breath and shook his head lightly, âI just donât think thatâs something I can do. Iâll see you tomorrow, alright?â
You were a little shocked when he ended the conversation so suddenly, and were worried youâd said something to bother him. âIâm sorry if I made you uncomfortable.â
He chuckled softly, messy brown hair falling over his eyes, âDon't worry, Itâs not you. But I've really gotta get to bed, okay?â
Unconvinced, you just nod. âAlright⊠Iâll see you tomorrow.â
Steve crashes into his bed with a muffled groan, pink lips pulled down into a frown. In all of reality, heâd gone to this party and boasted to everyone about his new neighbor. And instead of being happy and excited to have a new person in the group, Tommy and Carol had grimaced at the thought.
âWhatâs her name again?â She asked, legs crossed as she sat on the purple lawn chair.
âY/N.â
Tommy snickered and leaned over to whisper something in Carol's ear, and she got that knowing smirk on her face. The one that practically dripped venom. âOh, you little friend can totally hang out with us.â She said, tone heavy with sarcasm, âShe seems just peachy!â
Steveâs stomach immediately twisted, his intuition practically screaming at him to realize itâs a setup, and to do everything in his power to keep you away from it.
âCome on, guys,â He grumbled, wiping a hand over his face as water dripped from his hair onto the concrete below him, âwill you please just be nice?â
Carol crossed her arms over her chest and pursed her lips, âWhat makes you think weâre not gonna be nice to her, Stevie?â
His nose scrunched at the nickname, anytime Carol called him that he knew heâd struck a nerve. âIâm not trying to say you wonât be, itâs just⊠I really like her and I donât want her to stop talking to me if you guys do something.â
Carol snorted, her red hair falling over her shoulder as she did, âYou like her? You donât even know her!â
Steveâs cheeks flush a bright pink as he sinks further into his chair. Yes, it was true that heâd grown the tiniest crush on you during your late night talks, but he couldnât help it! You were so kind and soft-spoken, and you always knew how to make him laugh. And the fact that you were one of the prettiest girls heâd ever seen was just the icing on the cake. How could he not fall the smallest bit in love with you?
That next morning youâd been practically shaking in the car. Your mom assured you over and over that itâd be a good day and youâd make lots of new friends, but it wasnât that you were nervous about.
Sure, school without friends sucked but you could live just fine without them. No, you were worried about Steve. Heâd been worried about something his friends had said, and you had a sinking feeling it had something to do with you.
As soon as you stepped foot onto campus you were immediately looking for Steve. Youâd seen him leave his house a couple minutes before you did, so you assumed he was already here, you just werenât sure where.
You swallowed as you walked through the crowded halls. There were groups of girls reuniting after summer vacations spent in Europe, guys with tan skin and even brighter eyes, but no Steve.
You get through your whole first period class with zero sign of the brunette boy, and itâs not until youâre halfway to your second do you catch a glimpse of him. His back is turned to you, but you could recognize that laugh anywhere.
Shyly, you walk up to him. You can see heâs with a freckled boy and red headed girl, who you assume are his friends, Tommy and Carol.
Carol notices you first, and she eyes you up and down with precision. She smacks on her gum before she nudges Tommy and gestures her head in your direction.
The both of them stare at you for so long that by the time you even make it to Steveâs side heâs already turning to face you.
Surprise flashes on his face, but itâs soon replaced with happiness, and then something you canât quite read. The smile on his face is strained as he says, âY/N! Hey!â
You give him a small wave back, nerves crawling up your spine at the hungry look Carols giving you. Like youâre her next meal.
âOh my gosh!â She practically squeals, grabbing your arm and forcing you closer to her. You nearly stumble to the ground from the force but Steve grabs your shoulder and steadies you. âSteve told us so much about you!â She leered, well manicured hands hugging you close to her body.
You pushed away from her gently, uncomfortable with all of the attention, âOh. Thatâs nice.â You glance at Steve to try and get a read from him, but his face is blank. He meets your gaze apologetically and crosses his arms over his chest, âLeave her alone, Carol.â He mutters.
Tommy flashes his teeth with a hateful grin, âOh, come on,â He snickers, âwe just wanna know your girlfriend better.â
âSheâs not my girlfriend!â Steve defends, eyebrows furrowed in frustration.
Carol rolls her eyes at him and then turns her attention back to you, âLook, why donât you eat lunch with us today, hm?â She asks, batting her lashes.
Your eyes dart to Steve. You donât want to invade his space (even though heâd said you could eat lunch with him days ago), and you can tell heâs clearly uncomfortable with the way Tommy and Carol are acting, so you attempt to say, âOh, I donât think-â
Carol cuts you off, âWeâll see you there, okay?â She draws out the syllables in the okay, linking her arm with Tommyâs and then walking away without allowing you to answer.
You and Steve watch them go, and you begin to bite your nails, a nervous habit youâd been trying to break. âI didnât mean to-â You begin, hoping Steve isnât too angry with you including yourself like this, but he just shakes his head with a sigh. âItâs.. fine. Itâs not like Carol gave you much choice.â He attempts to joke, and you let out an awkward laugh.
Steve eyes you, clearly unsure of how to release the tension surrounding the both of you, but the late bell does it for you.
You barely bid him a short goodbye before youâre reaching for the map in your back pocket and leaving Steve behind to stand awkwardly in the hallway alone.
He watches you leave, stomach flipping at whatever he knows Carol must have planned for lunch.
Unlike Tommy, Carol was calculated. Tommy would be mean on the spot, he didnât really plan out any of the things he did, they more so just happened. But Carol, sheâd plan them for weeks.
Once, sheâd pretended to be friends with Jacey Collins for nearly the entire fifth grade year just so she could embarrass her at her birthday party. Steve doesnât know what Carol did, but whatever it was, it was bad enough to make Jacey move schools.
So, yeah, he was a little nervous for lunch.
He was even more nervous every time heâd catch Tommy and Carol giggling with each other, both refusing to tell Steve what the hell they were talking about, and instead promising heâd find out soon enough.
By fourth period, their last period before lunch, Steve had had enough. Carol was whispering something in Tommyâs ear, casually glancing at Steve as she did. Finally fed up, steve smacked his hand on the desk and said, âCarol, whatever you're planning, just quit it, okay? Y/Nâs a nice girl, and she doesnât deserve whatever twisted joke you and numb nuts are planning.â He smacked Tommy upside the head, causing the boy to rub at the spot gently.
Carol glowered, her eyes thin slants, âIf you really have that much of an issue with it, why donât you go sit with your little girlfriend in the bathroom or something. Iâm sure sheâd love that.â She giggled with a suggestive wiggle of her brows.
Tommy cackled, âI could totally see her and Steve getting it on in the bathroom.â
Steve scrunched his nose, âGross, man!â He shoved Tommy in his chair, and then focused his attention back onto Carol, âThis is the only time Iâve ever asked you to do basically anything for me. So please, just this once, can you just be nice?â
Carols lips thinned into a line as she swung her feet back in forth in her chair, back resting against the plastic seat. âIf I leave your little,â she pretended to gag, âgirlfriend alone, whatâre you gonna do for me?â
Steve shouldâve known that Carol Perkins does not do anything for anyone unless thereâs something in it for her. He shrugged, âAnything you want.â
A cheshire grin immediately spread onto her glossy lips, âAnything?â
âYep,â Steve huffed with annoyance, âanything.â
She shared a look with Tommy, the both of them almost looked to be communicating with just their eyes. âOkay,â She suddenly slapped her palms onto her lap, âWe want full 24/7 access to your pool for the rest of the summer.â
Steve immediately groaned and ran a hand through his hair. He couldnât use the excuse that his parents would get mad at him because his parents were never home anyway and they knew that. Thatâs why she asked him, because she knew they could get away with practically anything there.
Heâs tempted to say no, to refuse and let Carol have her way with you, but then he thinks about the soft smile you get on your face everytime he opens his window, and he knows thereâs no way he could do that to you.
âFine.â
âReally?â
âMhm.â He already knows this is a bad idea, but he reminds himself who heâs doing it for. âThe pool is completely yours.â
Carol squeals happily, immediately turning to Tommy to discuss what Steve assumes are the things theyâll do together, but he drowns them out.
All he knows is that you wonât have to be subjected to Carolâs cruelty, and that makes the whole thing worth it.
But, he shouldâve known Carol would find a loophole.
By the time lunch came the knot that had formed in Steveâs stomach had disappeared, and he was actually excited to see you.
Tommy spotted you first, a yellow tray in your hand as your eyes darted across the room. âGod, she looks like a puppy.â He snickered in Steveâs ear.
Steve shook him off, muttering a quiet shut up under his breath as he made himself known to you.
âY/N! Hey.â Youâd never looked so relieved to see him as you do now, your furrowed brows immediately relaxing. âHi.â you murmured.
âUh, Iâll take you to our table.â
You gazed down to his empty hands, âArenât you gonna get lunch?â
Steve couldnât help but laugh at your words, âOh, no. We never eat lunch here.â He gestured with his head to the rest of his friends, who were already sitting and were also without lunch.
Your gaze dropped down to your own tray, and you suddenly felt insecure. At your old school, you and your friends always ate lunch, you didnât even know it was a thing not to. âShould IâŠâ You trailed off, gesturing to the trash can. Steve immediately shook his head, âOh, no! I mean if youâre hungry then you should eat.â
You nodded and squared your shoulders. Steve was right, no one was gonna care if you were eating lunch or not. It was just your insecurities speaking.
You gave him a genuine smile and let him lead you to the table, you sat next to him obviously, on the outside of everyone else.
Carol flashed a grin at you, âIâm so happy you decided to come! For a second there we thought you might run off to the bathrooms with the freaks!â She giggled. The comment made your stomach churn, but you were sure it was just some harmless joke, right? You forced a laugh, âOh, no. I was just confused in the whole lunch situation.â You said, pointing to the empty spaces around them.
Carol hummed, pretending to be intrigued, âOh, we never eat lunch here. It makes you gain, like, twenty pounds in just a day!â All of Carol's friends giggled, and that nervous feeling in your stomach suddenly came back tenfold.
âOh,â You swallowed, âI didnât know that..â
âOf course you didnât, silly!â She eyed you up and down, âActually, do you want me to throw that away for you? Itâs probably a good thing you donât eat that you wouldnât want to..â She trailed off with a wince.
Tommy let out a loud laugh, âYeah, no offense, but how often did you eat your other schools lunch? It kind of shows.â
âTommy!â Steve shouted suddenly, âWhat the hell is wrong with you?â
To you, your body had never really been an insecurity for you. But Carol and Tommyâs comments suddenly have you folding your arms over your stomach in an attempt to hide.
Tommy pursues his lips, âItâs just the truth!â
Steve just scoffed and stood roughly from his spot, âCome on, Y/N.â You immediately followed him, doing your best to avoid Carol's smirk as she watched you walk away.
Steve led you into the empty hallway, hands clenched at his sides in anger. âGod, I am so sorry. I shouldâve known theyâd say some dumb shit like that-â
âHey, hey,â You shushed him, âItâs fine. You didnât know. We did the right thing by leaving.â
The guilt still didnât leave Steve though, because deep down he did know something was going to happen. He knew Carol wouldnât stop just because Steve offered her something. And the thing about her was she was so subtle about it that it seems like she doesnât know what sheâs saying is mean, when in all actuality, she does.
âNo, still, I shouldnât have let you sit there.â
You sighed, âLook, maybe I just..â You swallowed, âWhy donât we just keep our friendship out of school, okay? Iâll find some friends on my own.â
Steveâs lips parted slightly, eyebrows crinkling together in confusion, âSo I'm just supposed to ignore you?â
You shook your head, a smile tugging at your lips, âIâm not saying that. We just wonât go out of our way to see each other.â
Steve sucked in a breath. Doing that made it seem like he was ashamed to be friends with you, which was honestly anything from the truth. If anything, he was ashamed to be friends with them.
âI donât want you to thinkâŠâ
âI wonât think anything,â You reassured, âThis was my idea anyway. And besides, this way we can keep everything more private.â
Steve took a breath and let himself soak in the information. You would still be friends, just not at school. Easy.
âOkay,â He said, âIâll see you tonight then.â
June, 1986
Present Day
Getting a summer job at the bookstore was honestly one of the best things you think you couldâve done. After graduation, and the unfortunate mall fire at Starcourt which destroyed your job at The Gap, youâd been out of work and living with your parents.
For most people, nineteen is a normal age to be living with your parents, especially when youâre putting yourself through school like you are because youâre parents refuse to pay because you chose a local college instead of the prestigious one theyâd picked out for you across the country.
Your parents were disappointed with your choices and you knew that, but you couldnât bear the thought of leaving just yet. There were so many relationships you werenât ready to end and so many things left unsaid with.. certain people.
Like Robin for example. Youâd both met a couple weeks after your seventh grade year started. She was a year younger than you were, but she was still the closest friend you had outside of, well, yeah. Steve.
Yours and Steveâs relationship had grown much more complex as the years went on, and long story short, you didnât talk to him anymore. It hurt too much to do so.
But, Bookish was almost like an escape for you. Most of the people that came in were either kids with their mothers, usually just beginning to fall in love with books just as you did, or they were elderly people who'd fallen in love with it way before youâd even been born.
Robin working there with you only made it better. She used to work at Scoops Ahoy in the mall, along with he-who-shall-not-be-named, but once it burned down sheâd been left without a job just as you had.
Sheâd been over at your house during spring break, the both of you watching Footloose. You on your back, head hanging off of the edge of your bed. Robin rested her back against the headboard, shoveling another handful of popcorn into her mouth. âYou know,â Her words came out muffled, so she paused to let herself chew the rest of her food. âThat new bookshop or whatever opened a couple weeks ago. Maybe we should apply there.â
You readjusted so you were leaning back into your elbows, a slight raise of your brow. âBookish? I just went there the other day.â
Robin nodded and popped another piece of popcorn in her mouth, âDid you see if they were hiring?â
You scrunch your nose, trying to remember. During your visit, youâd been too preoccupied trying to find the best book to purchase and hadnât really looked. âI have no idea. But, if they're new, they probably have to be.â
Robin agrees with you with a nod of her head, and the both of you decide to finish out the movie and then drive down. Robin unfortunately doesnât have a license, so that meant you were basically forced to drive her everywhere. Well, either you or Steve.
Robin used to hate Steve, even while you were friends with him. She was one of the only people who was aware of your friendship and what it had turned into, and she constantly reprimanded you for getting involved with a guy like that.
But, once they started working together at Starcourt, her view completely changed, but by that time you and Steve were already avoiding each other like the plague.
You glanced at the window, wondering if maybe Steve was on the other side. You hadnât opened that window or even the blinds for over a year, too afraid of what you might end up seeing.
âHey, you ready?â Robin asks, throwing her jacket on and leaning against your doorframe. You swallow, eyes lingering on the blinds before you turn to her with a smile. âLetâs go.â
And that was that. Youâd both gotten hired nearly on the spot by the sweet old lady who ran the store.
Bookish was one of those places that made you feel like you were entering a different time. The floor was dark oak wood and the walls were linen, and it was lined with rows and rows of books. Some were neatly displayed while others just stacked messily.
It was June in Indiana, which meant all the electric fans were going and the AC was cranked as high as it could go, but the warmth still seeped into the building.
âItâs so hot!â Robin groaned, leaning over the counter dramatically, âIâm gonna melt.â
You snorted as you continued to organize the books in the fiction section, âItâs not that bad.â
Robin smacked her lips, âYou say that now, and then youâll turn and see iâve become a puddle on the floor.â
You placed a hand on your heart in false sympathy, eyes closing as you imagined the situation, âThat would be so, so completely horrible.â You sniffled, pretending to be sympathetic, then whipped your head to her with a teasing glint in your eye, âBut maybe I'd finally be able to get some work done without that constant whining in my ear!â
She scoffed, pretending to be offended. âThis is not whining! Itâs complaining. Thereâs a difference.â
You grinned and pushed the cart holding the books back behind the counter, âDoesnât seem like it to me.â
She just rolls her eyes, slumping back into the counter with her head resting in her hand, âWhateverâŠâ She trails off, eyes wondering across the building, and then she gasps suddenly, âOh, shit.â
You turn to look at her, eyebrows crinkled, âWhat's wrong-â She cuts you off by basically pushing you to the wall, her hand covering your eyes.
âWhat the hell, Robin!â You huff, pushing on her arm in an attempt to release yourself form her hold.
âI am so, so sorry.â
âWhat are you talking about-â Youâre finally able to push her away from you, her arm falling to her side as you blink in an attempt to get used to the lighting again. âSeriously, what is wrong with you?â You question, wiping your hands on your dress.
Robin bites her lip and stares right past you towards the front door, her eyes slightly wide.
You like to think that after so many years of knowing Robin youâve become an expert on her body language, and right now it was practically screaming one thing. Panic.
Hesitantly, you allow yourself to look towards the front where Robin was staring. Honestly, based off of the look on her face you were expecting a monster or maybe even Tammy Thompson to be standing there, but the reality is much worse.
âWhat the hell is he doing here?â
Steve Harrington is casually conversing with Mrs. Beck, the old lady who runs the bookstore, like heâs known her for years. Heâs got that soft smile on his face he always got when something made him happy, and his hair has grown a little since the last time you saw him. His face looks freshly shaven, and heâs wearing that god-awful bright yellow sweater youâd told him to burn years ago.
âI can explain.â Robin stammers, hands coming up to tug at her shirt the way she always does when sheâs nervous.
You scrunch your nose and force yourself to turn away from him. It shouldâve been a no-brainer that Steve being here had something to do with her, because you donât think youâve ever seen the boy pick up a book willingly his entire life.
You point an accusing finger at her, âWhat did you do?â
Robin swallows, jaw opening and closing as she tries to find the words to defend herself. Finally, she lets out a loud huff and smacks her hands against her sides, âHe needed a job! Keith fired him over at Family Video because he was apparently âstealing all the hot ladies from himâ, and I told him to come here without thinking! I promise I immediately regretted it and I tried to talk him out of it but it was like he pulled the application out of thin air!â
You rub your temples in an attempt to calm your budding nerves. You didnât want to be angry with Robin because she didnât deserve your anger for offering her friend a job, no matter what your history with said friend is, but you couldnât help the growing irritation in the pit of your stomach. âWhy didnât you at least tell me? Then I couldâve at least prepared myself!â
Robin stutters over her words, hands gesturing wildly, âBecause I knew youâd be mad!â
âIâm not mad!â
âMad about what?â
Youâre almost surprised Steve has the audacity to join the conversation so casually, as if you were still the best of friends who talked every night.
You swallow and squeeze your hands into fists at your sides until your knuckles are a pure shade of white. Robin just stares at him with parted lips, eyebrows shot up in surprise. âUh,â She swallows, allowing herself to steal a glance at you, who has since paled significantly, âNothing.â
Steve lets out a huh, his eyes lingering on you, who hasnât had the courage to turn around and actually look at him, instead leaving him to stare at your back. Steve doesnât mind though, a little bit of you is more than enough for him.
The three of you are at a stand-still, everyone waiting for one of you to make the first move, for someone to speak, to shout, scream, anything.
But you canât move because this is the first time youâve heard his voice in over a year. It's still smooth as butter and music to your ears. Itâs the first time youâve smelt his cologne, pine and oak but still with a hint of the ocean. Itâs the first time youâve been near him, and it hurts.
It hurts because you canât help but wonder about how different your life would be if Steve hadnât screwed everything up, if he hadnât said what he said or did what he did.
The back of your throat begins to ache with an onslaught of tears fighting to be let out, but you swallow them down. You refuse to shed any more tears over him.
âWhatâre you doing here, Steve?â Even his name hurts to say.
âRobin, uh, she told me Mrs. Beck was hiring and, well, I needed a job..â
You finally whip around and face him, your hair following you as you do and harshly slapping against your face, but you ignore it. âThatâs the only reason? I find that a little hard to believe.â You mumble the last part, eyes narrowing as you stare at him. Steve hadnât realized how much he missed your glare.
âYeah, it is. Why do you wanna know?â He asks with a suggestive taunt, almost as if heâs daring you to take the bait. You know how his mind works though, so you donât fall for it.
âI just didnât know if you finally decided you wanted to learn how to read sâall.â
Steve canât help the smirk that grows on his face. âI was hoping youâd teach me, actually.â
You scoff, a shiver running up your spine in disgust. Of course heâd say some stupid shit like that, he always knew how to get on your nerves. âIn your dreams, Harrington.â
Steve grinned, a snarky remark begging to spill from his lips, but you donât let him. Instead, you flip him off and nearly jog into the back room, your legs shaking as you go.
Robin canât help but feel concerned as she watches you leave, seeds of guilt already beginning to grow in her stomach. She furrowed her eyebrows and smacked Steve on the back of the head, causing him to let out a sharp yelp. âWhat was that for?â He grumbled, hand reaching back to nurse the spot.
âWhat was that for?â Robin mocked, nostrils flared as she pointed an accusing finger at Steve, âYou said you were gonna try and win her back! Newsflash buddy, but making her even more angry than she already is isnât gonna do that!â
âI know that!â Steve defends, âI know what iâm doing, okay? Just trust me.â
Robin was really beginning to regret this.
â£ïž
March, 1981
By the time you and Steve started your freshman year of highschool youâd gotten involved in completely different social circles. Steve stayed with all of his popular friends, and was rapidly climbing the highschool food chain. You on the other hand, well, you were doing the opposite.
You werenât exactly a weirdo per se, but you definitely werenât cool enough to be associated with any of the popular kids, and that was completely fine with you.
âSweetheart, Iâm sorry, but there is no universe where Queen is better than The Beatles. Itâs just not a thing!â
âYouâre just uneducated! Freddy Mercury is a musical genius!â You argue, pelting a potato chip across your window. It nearly hits him, but loses speed and falls to the grass instead.
He chuckles and leans back in his desk chair. You and Steve had both long since decided to just leave your chairs next to your windows, it only made sense since you spent hours talking each night. âIâm not saying he isnât, but youâre forgetting about Beatlemania. Last I checked, there was never a thing like that for Queen.â
You groan and cross your arms over your chest, eyes flickering to the Queen vinyls on your shelves. âJust admit youâre wrong so we can move on, please.â
Steve is stubborn. He knows that on all levels, The Beatles are better than Queen. But you have that pleading look on your face, the one with the puppy dog eyes. The one Steve has never been able to say no to. He sighs and throws his head back, a lopsided grin on his face as he admits, âFine, Queen is better.â
You smile gleefully and cross your legs, âWas that so hard?â
No, it wasnât. If you looked at Steve like that and asked him to move the world, heâd do so without breaking a sweat.
âYes, actually. It made me nauseous.â
âYouâre such a baby.â
Youâd be lying if you said you hadnât spent these last two years falling in love with Steve Harrington. How could you not when he made it so effortless? Honestly, you didnât even notice it was happening until one day you looked at him and suddenly it was like the stars aligned in front of you.
Sometimes, youâd catch yourself staring at him for too long at school and would have to physically rip yourself away and back to whatever lesson the teacher was babbling about or whatever rant your friend was on. He was just so⊠distracting. Especially now that heâd joined the swim team and had begun to fill out his clothes.
But, you could never have Steve. There was too much on the line. The most obvious being your friendship, and that was something you just couldnât risk losing. It meant too much to you. But, sometimes you still let your mind wonder. Youâd let yourself dream of kisses on cheeks, of love confessions done under covers and milkshakes shared over dinner.
Youâd always have to stop though, because thinking about it for too long just made you sad.
The obvious fact that nobody outside of your family and Robin knew of your friendship with the boy was also a big problem with this fantasy. You knew how Steveâs friends were. If he began dating you secretly and suddenly stopped being interested in typical, well, boy things, itâd bring up questions that Steve couldnât answer.
So the general consensus here was that Steve Harrington was off limits for the foreseeable future.
âWhat're you thinking about in that big brain of yours?â He asks softly, pushing a stray strand of hair out of his face.
You swallow, embarrassed to have been caught but also unsure of how to approach the question. âNothing. Just.. thinking about this project for school.â
âWhat is it? Maybe I can help.â
You snorted. Steve was a lot of things - beautiful, funny, athletic - but helpful with anything school related? Absolutely not. âI doubt that.â
âNo, seriously,â He straightened in his chair a bit, hitting the backrest comfortably, âhit me.â
You chuckled awkwardly, eyes avoidant. In all actuality, there wasnât any project, it was just an excuse you made up on the spot. But, maybe you could play this in your favor.
âWell, we read this short story about this girl whoâs in love with a guy she can never have, and no matter how many solutions she comes up with in her mind he will always be off-limits from her. Weâre supposed to come up with a solution for her to show that, like, nothing is impossible, I guessâŠâ You trailed off at the end, rubbing at your arm uncomfortably.
Steve made a strange noise in the back of his throat, crossing his arms over his chest as his eyebrows knitted together. You could practically see the gears turning in his head, and sucked in your bottom lip nervously. Would he know you were lying?
âThatâs a weird project.â He mumbles, completely unaware of your wide eyes. âUh, yeah, it is.â You stammered, the confused look on Steveâs face made you realize how stupid this was, and you immediately go to discard the entire thing, âJust forget it, It was stupid anyway-â
âIâd tell her to just go for it.â
Your mouth goes dry, âWhat?â
âI mean, whatâs the worst that could happen? He says no? And what if that guy really does like her back, what then? Sheâll never know if she doesnât tell him!â
Your stomach practically explodes in nerves, and you're unsure of what to say. Steveâs looking at you expectantly, but all you can focus on is that one short phrase. Sheâll never know if she doesnât tell him.
It was true, but was it really that simple? No - itâs not. The risks are too great, and sure, Steve makes it seem so easy, but itâs not. Nothing is easy when it comes to your feelings for him.
The one thing you were almost certain of was that Steve doesnât love you like you love him. It was obvious in the constant stares at prettier girls, with fuller figures and whitened smiles. It was obvious in the kisses heâd share with them behind bleachers, hidden away from prying eyes. It was obvious in the way heâd gush to you about his latest crush, of how beautiful they were and how in love he was. And the funny thing? They were always the opposite of you. More outspoken and confident - not afraid to show a little skin. Something you were envious of.
âBut.. What if she does know? And she can never tell him because she knows heâll reject her and then everything between them will never be the same again?â
Steve is a little surprised by your question, and he begins to feel nervous under your piercing gaze. Why were you asking him this? Did you.. did you know? There was no way you did - he always made sure to keep his feelings hidden away anytime he was with you. Heâd fight down the blush, push away the longing - all of it. In all honesty, he was starting to question if this was for a project in the first place.
At first, your project had hit a little close to home, but he didnât let himself overthink it. But now, his mind was practically swarming with uncharted waters heâd always ignored.
But, still, he amuses the question. âMaybe their relationship will change into the way she wants. She canât assume the guy doesnât like her just because he doesnât show it. Maybe itâs there, and heâs just really good at hiding it.â
You no longer enjoyed this conversation. Now it just hurts - because Steve doesnât even know what heâs doing to you. Heâs giving you hope, and thatâs a dangerous thing to have. It was something you couldnât let yourself have.
You needed to get away from this conversation and honestly just let it die out. You needed to breathe in the fresh air, finally let yourself take a full breath instead of this constricted, shallow breathing you were currently experiencing.
âDo you wanna go for a bike ride?â
Steve snorts, shoulders rising and falling as he does. âNow? Itâs almost midnight and we have school tomorrow -â
âIâll go by myself then.â Youâre already slipping in your tennis shoes before Steve can even argue, throwing a jacket on to protect yourself from the cold night.
Steve nearly jumps out of his chair, brown eyes amused and a smile tugging on his lips. Usually he was the one forcing you to sneak out with him, so this was a nice change of pace.
He meets you outside, watching as you wheel your light blue bike away from the side of the house and to the driveway.
âWhere are we going?â He asks, throwing a leg over his own bike and gazing at the soft smile on your face.
âAnywhere.â
That's how you both find yourselves now, wide smiles on your faces as you ride through the quiet town. You were used to the quietness of Hawkins, but not like it is now. Thereâs not a soul in sight, the only thing illuminating the road in front of you being the yellow street lights.
Eventually, you find a nice hilltop to stop at, and the both of you practically collapse onto the grass.
Youâre panting slightly from the ride, but you donât even care. All you can focus on is the starry sky, thousands of different constellations making themselves known to you.
Sometimes, you think Steve is like a constellation. Beautiful to look at and widely studied, but untouchable. Only a select few got to go up and be with the stars, and you werenât one of them.
âItâs beautiful out here,â You whisper, hands intertwining on your stomach comfortably.
Steve gazes at the side of your face from where he lays next to you, hands behind his head. âYeah,â He breathes, forcing his gaze away from you and to the stars above, âIt really is.â
Youâre not sure how long youâre out there with him, you just know by the time you get back home youâre exhausted.
You and Steve barely spoke a word to each other that whole time, only occasionally pointing out a star that shined brighter than the others or made a funny shape.
But, as you collapse onto your bed and drift into a dreamless sleep thereâs one thing youâre sure of.
You are in love with Steve Harrington, and you think you always will be.
â£ïž
June, 1986
Youâve chosen to completely ignore Steve, even when he attempts to talk to you. Youâll simply stick your nose farther into your book and walk away from him.
Youâll give him some grace though, because he never takes your rejection harshly. He simply watches you walk away with a sigh and turns to talk to Robin about something.
Robin watches you turn tail and practically run away from Steve for what feels like the thousandth time this week, and sheâs had enough. âSteve.â
He turns to look at her lazily, hip resting against the counter top and arms crossed against his chest. Heâd attempted to ask you what you were reading today because he noticed it was different than the one heâd seen you with for the past couple of days, but as soon as you saw him approach you shot him an icy glare and walked to the other side of the store. He could see you now, sitting in the window nook comfortably.
âIâm not sure if youâre noticed, but youâre not really making any progress here.â Robin scolds in a hushed voice. She wants you to be happy, and for the past year youâve been anything but. Sheâs had to comfort you through too many crying sessions, had to stay over because you couldnât be alone way too many times, and had to watch you close those blinds for the last time and never open them again.
Robin remembers how you were before Steve went and messed everything up, and she selfishly wants that back. Donât get her wrong, she still loves you more than life itself, but she knows what youâre like when youâre happy, and right now this is not it.
Steve crosses his arms over his chest, âI know that, Robin. But she wonât talk to me.â
She scoffs, âCan you blame her? You broke her heart! Personally, I wouldnât talk to you either after something like that.â
Steve stares at the floor in front of him, shifting his position so his back is leaning against the counter instead of his hip.
Steve hates thinking about how he treated you during your senior year. Actually, he hates to think about how he treated you nearly all of highschool. You didnât deserve it, and you were an angel for putting up with it. But, sometimes angels get pushed too hard.
He still remembers the tears that stained your cheeks as you begged him to explain himself, remembers the hoarseness in your voice as you screamed at him to leave. But, he thinks the thing that hurt the most was watching you close those blinds for the last time.
That was when he knew it was over. Anytime youâd argued in the past youâd always kept the blinds open, it was almost like a peace offering, like your silent way of telling him you guys would be okay.
âI donâtâŠâ He swallows, âI donât know how to fix it.â
Robin canât help but feel sympathetic for him. She understands why you refuse to talk to him, hell, sheâd probably do the same thing. But, she also knows Steve and she understands how much he regrets his decisions back then. She knows how heavily he was influenced by the people around him and the constant pressure to be King Steve.
âYou need to show her youâve changed, not just tell her. I could tell you I had a boyfriend but once you saw me kissing a girl youâd know I wasnât being truthful.â
Steve canât help the snort that slips from him at her comparison. But, he knows sheâs right. What good is it to sit here and preach to you that heâs a changed man if he doesnât do anything to prove it to you?
You on the other hand couldnât even focus on your book. Youâd reread the same page twenty times in the last five minutes, and you still had no idea what was going on! Steve was too distracting - and not just because you hated him.
You didnât want to admit it to yourself, but sometime in the last year youâd forgotten just how attractive Steve was. The moles that dotted his neck like theyâd been crafted by Aphrodite herself, and the way his eyes glimmered a honey brown whenever the sun shined on them. His lips, so pink and sculpted to fit the frame of his face. And donât even mention his muscles or you might just faint on the spot.
You steal a glance towards him from the corner of your eye, watching as he talks with Robin about something you canât make out. His head is hung low though, so you can assume itâs nothing good. Maybe she was lecturing him for bothering you, and if you were lucky heâd finally listen.
But, unfortunately luck never seemed to be on your side, and heâs approaching you faster than you can run away. âY/N.â He has you cornered, your back against the window as you glare daggers at him. What the hell did Robin say?
You refuse to answer, instead choosing to go back to pretending to read your book. Steve doesnât say anything, he just places his hands on his hips and stares down at you.
You're stubborn though, so you refuse to look at him, no matter how badly you might want to. Steve, seemingly getting the hint, just lets out a loud sigh and says, âIâm going to get food from Bennys, do you want anything?â
Fuck. You loved Bennys. But, you didnât want Steve to let you saying yes get to his head, so you just let out a harsh no.
âYou havenât eaten since you got here four hours ago, thatâs not healthy.â
âIâm not hungry.â You respond dryly. Glancing up at him through your lashes. His lips are pursed and heâs got that look on his face he always gets when heâs annoyed. He shrugs, âSuit yourself.â And then leaves without another word.
For a moment, youâre almost shocked. Youâd expected him to fight with you more about it, but youâre not mad that he didnât.
You practically shoot up and beeline for Robin, whoâs already gazing at you like sheâs been prepared for this. âGod, I hate him!â You groan, rubbing the bridge of your nose.
Robin snorts, hopping onto the countertop and picking at her nails, âBecause he offered to buy you food?â
You shoot her a glare, âBecause heâs pretending nothing happened between us.â
Robin chews on her bottom lip, glancing up from her chipped nails to a fuming you. âI think heâs just trying to be nice.â
âSince when were you his biggest defender? You were begging me to leave him not even two years ago!â
Robin winces at the memory. It was true, she used to absolutely loathe Steve with everything in her, but that was before and this was now. People change - and Steve Harrington was a prime example of that.
She stays silent, knowing thereâs nothing she can say at this current moment thatâll make you feel better.
You force yourself to take a deep breath and lay your forehead onto the counter top, elbows wrapping around your head as you do. Youâve been arguing with yourself on where you stand with Robin lately. On one hand, sheâd deliberately offered the one man you couldnât bear to see a job at the one place youâd felt safe from him without even asking you first, and essentially ruined it for you forever. On the other, she was just a girl helping someone she loved get a job somewhere that wasnât a shit hole like most of the places in town.
It just wasnât fair that that place has to be here.
You sigh, squeezing your eyes shut, âI just need a second by myself. Iâll come back out if things get too busy.â
Robin just nodded, eyes glued to the floor as you walked past her and into the employee area.
Robin knows you have every right to be mad at her right now, but if risking your friendship was what it took for you to be happy, sheâd do it everyday.
By the time Steve gets back the sun has already started to sink below the clouds, and there was only an hour left of your shift.
You were still in the back room, eyes puffy and red with the remnants of tears. It embarrassed you to admit, but youâd let a few tears and sniffles escape you. You were just so frustrated with your situation.
Steve walks behind the counter nonchalantly, large hands reaching into the white plastic bag and pulling out three styrofoam boxes.
Robin furrows her brows at this, only expecting two. âWhatâs the third one for?â
Steveâs silent for a moment, a ghost of a smile on his lips. Did you really think he was gonna let you go hungry? He knows you - knows you love Bennys like you love breathing. Itâs the only reason he got it.
âY/N.â
âBut didnât she-â
He shoots her a look that shuts her up as she realizes what he did. Her eyes crinkle as she smiles, and opens her box. âDo you want me to take it to her?â
Steve thinks for a moment about what you would want. Logically, he knows you would want Robin to bring it to you, but what would you have wanted before he screwed everything up?
âIâve got it.â
He grabs your box in one hand and his own in the other, taking a deep breath before he pushes the door open with his hip. You're sitting there, arms crossed over your chest and nails between your teeth. A nervous habit of yours.
You look up, clearly expecting Robin, but your gaze immediately hardens once you realize itâs him. You push your chair out from under you harshly, it screeches across the floor as you do. You grab your jacket that hangs on the back of it and go to walk past him, but he blocks your path. âI brought you something to eat.â
âI said I wasnât hungry.â You attempt to push past him, but he doesnât let you. Instead, he gives you that knowing, motherly look of his. The same one he used on Dustin Henderson when he babysat him junior and senior year. âYou havenât eaten since noon, and,â He glances at his watch, âitâs almost seven, Y/N. Pretend itâs not from me, I donât care, just please eat.â
You're at a standstill for a moment, the both of you staring at each other. You know Steveâs right, but you hate it. It makes you feel nauseous that he knows you so well.
Finally, after much hesitation, you finally sit back down in your chair. Your arms are still crossed and youâre refusing to look at him, but Steve can breathe easy knowing heâs finally getting at least something from you.
He sits across from you and slowly slides your box over to you, which you open lazily.
You wanted to yell at him to go - to leave you alone to eat in peace - but it almost felt nice to feel his presence again. If you focused on it long enough, you could almost pretend it was still that blissful time before senior year. When everything had been perfect.
Steve watches as you open the box and inspect the food carefully. He can tell by the way your eyes widen slightly that youâre surprised by what you see.
âIs this..â You trail off, heart constricting in your chest.
He nods, âYou really thought I wouldnât remember what you like? Please, give me a little credit.â He teases.
You never even knew he had it memorized.
A ghost of a smile plays on your lips, head flooding with memories of late winter nights spent at Bennys with Steve.
You allow yourself to glance up at him, cheeks flushing when you find heâs already staring at you. As soon as his eyes meet yours he smiles, a genuine, crinkle-at-the-corner-of-the-eye smile.
You eat in silence for the rest of your shift, but Steve doesnât care. Being with you is more than enough.
â£ïž
November, 1981
Sophomore year is difficult for you.
Your grandma died just three days before Halloween, and it hit you hard. Steve was with you nearly all the time, not even saying anything, just holding you as you sobbed.
He never quite knew what to say to make you feel better because none of his own family was in his life. As far as was concerned, you were the closest thing he had to that.
Today marked a full week since your grandma passed, and youâd just gotten home from the funeral. He could see you now through his window, laying on your back unmoving in your bed, black dress still heavy on your body.
Youâre not even crying, just staring at the ceiling. Youâd always heard that grief presented itself in thousands of different ways, but youâd never been subjected to it yourself until now.
Memories of your grandmother and her infectious smile played on repeat in your mind, and sometimes if you focused hard enough, you could pretend she hadnât died.
Your eyes squeezed shut as you did so, replaying a memory of her from your eleventh birthday party. Youâd been crying for some reason you canât even remember, and sheâd stumbled upon you on the floor of your bathroom.
âOh, Hunny, what happened?â She cooed, closing the door and sliding down next to you. She winced as she did, her knees popping the whole way down, but she didnât complain. She just threw an arm over your shoulders and pulled you into her.
âI-Iâm scared.â You whimpered, hugging your knees to your chest.
âOf what?â
You sniffled and looked into her loving eyes, âYouâll think itâs silly.â
She chuckled, forehead wrinkling with the movement, âNo, I wonât.â
You swallowed, scratching at your arm nervously. âAre you sure?â
âIâm your grandma, Iâd never laugh at you.â
You swallowed, letting your forehead hit your knees solemnly, âI donât wanna grow up.â You admitted.
She didnât say anything for a moment, which made you feel even worse. Getting older was natural and there was nothing you could do to stop it, but itâd hit you that you were growing out of your childhood.
Youâd never be as innocent as you once had been, and at some point in your life youâll never be mommyâs little girl again. And you hated that you just had to accept that.
Your grandma sighed, fingers drawing shapes onto your arm, âI know itâs scary growing up,â She murmured into your ear, âbut itâs also good for us. We learn more as we grow, and we get to experience so many new things. Take me and your grandpa for example, we met when we were twenty five. If I'd never grown up, I never would have met him and fallen in love.â
The mention of your grandfather put a smile on your face. He was a sweet old man with a dashing mustache and a love for your grandma so strong you could feel it without even knowing him.
âI guess youâre right.â You sighed, laying your head against her side. She always knew how to make you feel better, it was like her special talent.
Thatâs why her death hurt so much, because youâd been talking to her less and less the older you got. It wasnât something you did purposely, but with the move and all the new things that were happening in your life calling her had just never been at the top of your list. Now you wish it had.
You donât even hear the knock in your door, you only notice Steveâs there when heâs scooting into bed next to you. You welcome him calmly, automatically falling into his open arms. He strokes your back comfortingly, leaving a soft kiss on your hairline. âHowâre you feeling?â
You make a noise in the back of your throat, a mix between a whimper and a groan that shatters Steveâs heart. He hates seeing you hurt like this.
âThat bad, huh?â He mumbles, squeezing you closer against him.
You choke out a sigh, âI just wish I wouldâve called her. I had every chance too and I never did. What kind of- of granddaughter does that?â Your eyes are brimming with tears again, a sob tearing from your throat as you press your face closer into Steveâs neck. He smells like home.
He doesnât mind that youâre soaking through his white shirt, in fact he barely even notices. âCâmon, Sweetheart. There was no way you couldâve known, and blaming yourself isnât going to make you feel any better.â
âI-I just⊠I just wish I wouldâve been better.â You hiccuped.
Steve immediately shakes his head, âNo, no,â He stands and takes your hand, gently forcing you to your feet, âYouâve gotta get outta here, no way staying in this room all day is healthy for you.â
You sniffle and glance around your bedroom. Its usual warmth feels cold and empty.
âWhere would we go?â You ask, gazing at Steve as he wipes your tears with his thumbs. âAnywhere.â
That's how you ended up at Bennys. Steve had recently gotten his license so you no longer had to bike everywhere.
The cloudy sky combined with the glaring overhead lights must wash you out, but Steveâs not sure youâve ever looked prettier. The black dress compliments you perfectly, and call him selfish, but he thinks the glossiness in your eyes accentuates them so nicely.
You solemnly drink a sprite, biting on the straw occasionally and leaving a permanent indent in the plastic.
Youâd heard of Bennys, apparently it was a Hawkins staple, but youâd never been yourself before now. For how popular it apparently was, it's not very busy, just a few stragglers.
You can see the chief of police, Jim Hopper, and a few of his cop buddies in one corner, a couple in a booth across from them, and two old fishermen at the bar.
âIâve never been here before,â You murmur, watching as Steveâs head lifts from the menu to look up at you. âIâve only been once with Tommy and Carol,â He says their names with so much disgust it nearly surprises you, âand it was really good.â
You knew Steve wasnât the biggest fan of his friends, which was still something you found pretty weird. Why be friends with them if you couldnât stand them? But you also understood Steveâs situation. He had affirmed his status as King Steve at the beginning of the school year, when heâd fought Mitch Mikealson and won. Ever since then heâd gotten more cautious with being seen with you.
And, yeah, it hurts sometimes to see him pretend you didnât exist. Before, heâd still give you the occasional wave or smile, but now he didnât even spare you a glance. But, youâd always remind yourself it was fine, because only you got to have the real him. The soft Steve, whoâs boyish charm and honeynut eyes made you melt everyday.
You let out a soft huh, glancing over the menu before finally deciding on something. A plain cheeseburger with a side of cheesy fries. How American of you.
After youâve given the waitress your orders, you both sit in a constricting silence. Steve isnât sure of what to say to you right now or even how to approach the obvious elephant in the room, but you could hardly even focus on that.
If thereâs one thing your grandma's death has taught you, itâs that you canât let time escape you. Youâd pushed off calling your grandma for months, and then suddenly you couldnât anymore. What happens if you put off telling Steve how you feel for him, and then suddenly you no longer could? Would you feel regret like you do now?
You think youâve known Steve long enough now to decipher how heâd react. A soft rejection, but without a loss of friendship. You think things would continue how they normally do - maybe a bit awkwardly at first but, still, as they normally do.
Then you consider the other option, which you thought to be the less likely one. On the off chance Steve does like you back, then your entire relationship would change. Would he kiss you in front of his friends? Scream from the rooftops that you were his and he was yours? Or would he hide you away, protect his reputation from your influence?
You werenât sure.
âWhatâs going on in that big brain of yours?â
You smile softly at the phrase, glancing up at him through your lashes. He's leaning onto his elbows on the counter, cheeks squished between his hands. You think he looks innocent like this, and a glimpse of his seventh grade self flashes in his eyes, a time before King Steve even existed.
âJust⊠thinking.â You murmur, playing with your fingers in your lap.
Steve frowns, assuming youâre talking about your grandma, and he says, âIâm really sorry, Y/N. You know I'll be here for you every step of the way, right?â
You warm at his words, stomach twisting in knots. âI know,â You breathe, âweâre best friends. We have to be there for each other.â
Steve's heart constricts at the phrase. Best friends. Was that what heâd always be to you? He wants to be so much more - he wants to sweep you off your feet, show you just how much he loves you. If real love is something teenagers canât experience, then heâs not sure he ever wants to, because whatever it is heâs feeling for you right now is practically engulfing him whole.
âYeah,â He smiles weakly, âBest friends.â
Your eyebrows knit at the solemn look on his face, watching as he swishes the straw in his drink with his fingertip.
âSteve-â You begin, but the waitress is approaching you with your food before you can finish. Steveâs grateful for the interruption, not sure if heâs ready to answer whatever it was you were going to ask.
He distracts himself with his food, and you do the same. You're not sure why, but something about the way Steve said best friend made you feel uneasy. Did he not think you guys were? Or did he⊠did he want something else?
You blink the thought away, forcing yourself not to think of it.
But⊠what ifâŠ
You think of your grandma, how the regret of not calling her filled your entire body until you could barely breathe. Did you want that to happen with Steve? No, you didnât. So there was only one solution.
The moon is up by the time you get in the car, and you allow Steve to drive you to your spot.
The hilltop where you first rode your bikes to last year had become almost like a comfort place for the both of you. You went anytime either of you were upset, and you always sat in the same positions. You, with your hands laid comfortably on your stomach and him with his hands behind his head. It was basically a routine at this point.
But, tonight, itâd be different. Because you were either about to ruin your friendship with Steve forever, or start something youâd never be able to turn away from.
Youâre both silent, but while Steve seems peaceful, youâre anything but. Your mind is running wild with what-ifs, and you anxiously chew on your bottom lip. Just do it, you think, just do it.
âSteve?â You mumble, placing your hands behind your back and sitting up. Steve follows your lead, an eyebrow raised as he does. âYeah?â
You squeeze your eyes shut and pull your knees into your chest, dress riding up until its hem is at the middle of your knees. âIf I.. If I tell you something, you promise you wonât judge me? And- and nothing will happen to our friendship?â
He laughs nervously, âWhatâre you talking about?â
Just do it, you chant in your mind, Just do it.
You suck in a breath, âI love you. A lot. Like- more than I think should even be humanly possible, and I think I always have. Itâs like- like this weight in my chest everytime I see you, you know? Because youâre you and I'm, well, I'm just me. And I tell myself thereâs no way you could ever love me back but then you started acting all weird in the diner and I just- I had to know.â By the end of your rambling youâre panting softly, refusing to even look at Steve. You're too afraid of what you might see.
But Steve feels as if an angel herself has just blessed him. You love him?
You love him?
He feels too shocked to even move, heart practically beating out of his chest as he stares at you. The moonlight brings out your features so nicely, and your lips just look so- so kissable.
Itâs crazy. He knows it is. But heâs waited so long, and heâs not sure how many times he can imagine the softness of your lips before he needs to feel it. So he does.
He connects his lips with yours so fast you barely even register it. Itâs a soft peck, barely even a kiss really, but itâs perfect to you.
He pulls away quickly, hand on your cheek as he stares into your eyes. Only half of his face is visible in the darkness, but itâs enough for you. Because youâre plunging back in like youâve been starved.
Itâs messy, with clattering teeth and wandering hands. You find purchase in his hair, tugging slightly, and he lets you, groaning slightly at the feeling. His hands ghost of your waist nervously, and you reach down and place them comfortably on your hips.
It should be sinful how good he tastes - like strawberries eaten next to the pool on a warm summer day. âS- Steve,â You gasp between his lips, barely able to get the word out before heâs immediately diving back in.
You indulge in it for a few seconds more, before youâre gently pushing him away from you. He pulls back completely, removing his hands from your waist in a panic, âWhatâs - Whatâs wrong?â He pants.
You shake your head, assuring him itâs nothing like that. You take a breath, âWhat does⊠does this mean that you..?â
Steve has a big dopey smile on his face, tucking a peice of hair behind your ear, âThat I love you?â He mumbles, âBecause I do. So much. More than I think youâll ever know.â
Itâs those words that confirm what youâd thought for the past two years. Steve is your soulmate, someone you were always meant to find. Suddenly, youâre thankful for the move. Something that had once seemed life ruining has been the opposite - it brought you to your reason for living.
âThen what does this mean for us?â You question.
Itâs then that Steve realizes this might not be all great like he thought it would be - because Tommy and Carol were still in the picture. He couldnât just walk into school holding hands with you as if they hadnât spent every waking day making fun of you. He never joined, always choosing to stay silent during their tangents, but he never stopped them either.
He swallows, studying your face. Would loving you be enough for him? Could he throw it all away, the parties, the friends, the popularity - if it meant heâd be able to be with you?
Heâs not sure.
But what if he can have both? The popularity and you. Heâd just have to keep your relationship a secret just like you had been doing for years, it was that simple! But, he doesnât want to ruin the moment with you right now and get into that. So instead, he kisses you slowly again and murmurs, âWe'll figure it out as we go.â
â£ïž
July, 1986
Itâs been two weeks since what you called The Tolerable Act. AKA, the day Steve Harrington brought you food and also made himself more tolerable.
You wouldnât be going out of your way to talk to him, but if he approached you you no longer ran. Your responses were always short - but they were responses. Baby steps.
Today, when you walk into work Steve is already there stacking books and organizing shelves. His eyes are almost immediately drawn to you, and not just because he loves seeing you - no, this time, he notices something.
He thinks his heart drops into his stomach for a moment once he sees the guy with you. You're all smiles and giggles, playing with the hem of your lacy white shirt.
Jason Carver stands casually in the doorway, arm thrown above his head as he leans over you. Steve canât see what heâs saying from here, but whatever it is, itâs making you blush.
Steveâs not even sure what comes over him - but heâs dropping the rest of the books he was organizing messily onto the shelf and speeding over to you before he can even think it through.
Jason notices first, his eyebrows furrowing as he eyes him. Steve gives a tight lipped smile, brown eyes darting between you and Jason.
Steve never really disliked Jason - he was a nice guy. A little pushy at times, but overall he didnât seem too bad. But, now, watching Jason flirt with you like he knew anything about you made Steveâs stomach twist in the worst way.
Jason didnât know you. He didnât know anything about you! Steve knew it was selfish of him to expect you to be hung up on him forever like he was hung up on you, but did you have to bring Jason here?
âHarrington,â Jason said sultry smooth, bringing his arm down and stuffing his hands into his varsity jacket. Heâd graduated last month and was still wearing that thing? Steve thought that was a douchey move. âI didnât know you worked here.â
Steve hummed, âStarted a couple weeks ago.â
Jason smirked, âStill working at dumps like this place, huh?â He joked. Steve could see the intentions behind what he said - they were a poke at Steve still living with his parents and not making it into college. He glances at you, but you donât say anything, instead choosing to keep your eyes on the carpet.
âStill wearing your highschool jacket in public, huh?â
Jasonâs gaze hardened just barely, enough for you to not notice, but Steve did. They both just stared at each other for a few moments, almost like they were challenging each other.
âJason -â Both boys tore their gazes away from each other and onto you, âIâll see you tonight, okay?â You usher, silently pushing him out. Jason bent down to kiss your cheek, eyes never leaving Steveâs as he did.
Once he was gone, you turned around and tried to make your way past him to clock in, but Steve stopped you. âJason Carver? Really?â
Your nostrils flared, eyebrows knitting together as you gave him a harsh glare. âWho I talk to isnât any of your business anymore.â
âThat guys a total asshole!â
âAnd you arenât?â You retorted, âIâm not sure if you remember, but let me remind you that-â
He cuts you off with a sigh, large hand running through his hair. His shirt rode up as he did, and you had to force yourself not to look at his tanned skin. âI remember.â He mumbled, âBut, at least I've tried to better myself. Jason hasnât! And he doesnât deserve you, youâre so much better than he ever will be. I canât believe you donât realize that.â He took a breath, studying your face.
Jealousy is something Steve wasnât used to feeling when it came to you. Heâd always known that you were his and he was yours, and nothing would ever change that.
But, watching Jason Carver pull all those little giggles and shy smiles out of you that he used to - it hurt more than he liked to admit. His dad would tell him to: âgrow up, she's just some girl after all.â
But you arenât. Steve doesnât think you ever were.
âStop doing that!â You choke out. Youâre more than fed up âStop pretending that youâve changed and that everything is- everything is fine! You played me for years, Steve. And as soon as I'm back together again you just show up here and remind me why I-â You pause, eyes going glassy and nose turning a shade of red, âwhy I canât love you anymore. And it hurts - God, it hurts - but, I wonât allow myself to fall apart like I did again. And Jason- Jason likes me. I know he does. So donât fucking ruin this for me.â
Steveâs silent, arms crossed over his chest as he processes your outburst. He knows he deserves it and itâs something he thinks he needs to hear, but that doesnât make it any easier. You played me for years, Steve. Did you really think that?
Still, against his better judgment, he watches you as you turn your back to him and stomp into the back room.
You finally let out the sob you were holding in as soon as youâre out of sight, back hitting the cold stone wall. You hate him. Him and his stupid, stupid face and his horrible jokes. You hate that he can make you feel so many inexplicable things with just one sentence - He doesnât deserve you.
If Jason doesnât deserve you, then who does?
You avoid Steve your whole shift, and itâs easy, because Steve avoids you too. Robin called out sick which meant it was just the two of you and that made things so much worse.
You can feel his gaze lingering on you every time the clock ticks closer to your date, and it sends a shiver up your spine each time. If itâs because of your nerves about seeing Jason again or your undeniable longing for Steve, youâre not sure.
Once Jason arrives, Steve watches from behind the counter as you take Jasonâs hand and let him lead you to his car, a toothy grin highlighting your face.
He sighs, crossing his legs where he stands and leaning onto his forearms. He feels helpless, like heâs an onlooker in his own life, watching you pull farther and farther away from him and not being able to do anything about it.
Jasonâs car pulls away, and you watch as Bookish disappears from your line of sight. It feels foreign - leaving Steve behind to go with another guy. If youâd told yourself two years ago this was what your relationship would become, you never wouldâve believed it.
âSo, whatâs the deal with you and Harrington?â Jason asks, stealing a glance at you.
You chew on your lip, cherry chapstick lingering on your tongue. âWe used to be really close, but we kinda justâŠâ You swallow and play with your fingers in your lap, âgrew apart.â
Jason hums, fingertips drumming against the wheel as he drives. âYou guys seemed more than close back there.â
Youâre stumped. You canât understand why Jason is so interested in this topic, which is something you really donât want to talk about with him, and understandably so. You think up a quick excuse, âHeâs just protective.â
He scoffs out a laugh, âProtective? No, it was more than that. It was like he- he loved you or something.â He says it like thereâs no way that could be true. Like The Steve Harrington couldnât ever love a girl like you.
âI donât know. Maybe. Can we talk about something else, please?â
Jason doesnât say anything and just drives silently. Heâd told you he was taking you somewhere special but didnât specify after that - and as you watch him drive deeper and deeper into the woods youâre beginning to get nervous.
He parks next to Lovers Lake, turning in the radio and immediately shifting his seat back.
Youâd heard stories of guys doing this - taking a girl out to hook up with and disguising it as a date.
He's leaning over right as you realize what this is, and you pull away quickly, head nearly hitting the window. âJason, I thought we were going out?â
âWe are. I just thought.. we could have fun first.â
You swallow. This was wrong, you knew it was. Didnât you deserve to go on a real date like other girls do? What made you so different from them?
But⊠Maybe this was a real date. Maybe this was what other girls did. And if that was true, shouldnât you indulge? Youâd always been aware your relationship with Steve was different than most other highschool relationships, so maybe you were finally getting a taste of the reality.
You kiss him first, practically surging forward. Itâs hard and sloppy. Itâs too much. Itâs wrong.
You remind yourself that this is what real girls do.
You kiss him harder, holding back the whimper that begs to escape from your throat as he slips his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like cigarettes and mint - nothing like Steve.
He pulls you by your hips over the center console awkwardly, your legs banging against the dashboard as you move, but he never breaks apart.
You settle on his lap, letting him push and pull you anyway he wants. Heâs in no way soft - wandering hands never asking for permission as he slips them under your shirt. This is wrong, this is wrong, this is wrong-
âJason-â You breathe between his hungry lips, attempting to push away, but he grabs the back of your neck and forces you against him again. Your hands push at his chest hard, and heâs so shocked he lets you go.
âWhatâs your problem?â He pants, eyebrows knitted together.
You want to sob- because what the hell are you doing? Kissing Jason Carver in his car in the middle of nowhere? This is wrong. If this is what other girls do, then you donât want to be like them.
âCan we-â You suck in a breath, shifting uncomfortably on his lap, âCan we just take a break? Maybe actually talk and try to get to know each other?â
He stares at you coldly for a few moments, blue eyes searching your face for something youâre not sure of. Then heâs laughing - as if youâve said the funniest thing in the world. His chest convulses as he does, and he attempts to kiss you again but you pull away.
His laughter immediately stops and his face contorts into anger, his nostrils flared. âAre you kidding me?â
âJason-â You attempt, but heâs pushing you off of him before you can get the word out. You land in the passenger seat uncomfortably, legs at an awkward angle but you feel too unnerved to move.
âYou came onto me first!â
He was right, you had kissed him first. It was your fault he thought heâd be getting something else tonight. âI know and iâm sorry, but-â
He cuts you off with a laugh, tongue running over his teeth like a hungry animal. âI mean- thereâs no way youâre being serious right now, right?â He asks, âWhy the hell do you think I brought you out here? To talk? I thought you were smarter than that.â
Your eyes go wide, jaw hanging open as you process his words. Had you really been so stupid?
He points an accusing finger at you, âIf you think any guy is going to want you beyond just fucking you then youâre in for a treat. Now get the fuck out of my car.â
âJason-â
âGet out!â
So you do. You stumble a bit as your feet hit the grass, barely having any time to close the door before heâs speeding off.
The tears come before you can stop them, arms wrapping around yourself as you stare out into the lake.
The water makes the air feel cooler, so goosebumps form across your skin and cause a shiver up your spine. You donât know how to get home from here - or to the bookshop. But there is one place you can think of.
You're not sure how long you walk, you just know by the time you reach the hill your feet hurt and your calves feel practically numb.
You collapse onto the grass with a soft groan, immediately hugging your knees to your chest. The tears had long since stopped and were replaced with occasional hiccups, eyes glassy but the tears never falling.
You stare up at the sky, finding comfort in all of the familiar constellations. Lately theyâd been the only constant thing in your life, the one thing you knew would always be there and would never go away.
You hate that Steve was right more than youâd like to admit. He doesnât deserve you, youâre so much better than he ever will be. What right did he have to say something like that to you? It makes you almost nauseous.
Steve Harrington had become something of an anomaly to you over the past year. Youâd been told thousands of times that heâd changed by Robin - hell, Steve himself had been making an effort to show you that heâd never make the same mistakes he had again, but it was like you couldnât accept it.
Your heart had subconsciously built up brick walls to protect yourself from ever being hurt like that again, and any mention of Steve Harrington threatened to tear them down.
You sigh, forehead dipping down to rest on your knees. Youâre not sure how youâre going to get home, but right now itâs the last thing in your mind.
âY/N?â
Youâre head shootâs up, neck craning to see the eyes of the person in front of you.
It doesnât surprise you once you realize itâs Steve, because who else would be out here this late?
âHi.â You mumble, head immediately going back to lay on your knees comfortably.
He sits down next to you cautiously, plastic bag falling next to him as he does. He subconsciously makes sure to leave enough distance between the both of you so he doesnât scare you off. âWhereâs your date?â
You close your eyes, breaths coming in shallow as you shift uncomfortably. Your head lols lazily to the side, allowing yourself to get a full view of his face. His eyebrows are raised and his arms are behind him and holding his torso up.
âProbably out being a douche somewhere.â
He chuckles, âThat bad, huh?â
You nod, a soft smile playing on your lips. âDefinitely wasnât the best date ever.â Not like you had many to compare it to.
âI wonât say it even though I really want to- but just know iâm thinking it really, really hard-â
You roll your eyes, âJust say it.â You huff.
He doesnât hesitate, âI told you so.â
You mentally conclude that Steve should not be allowed to be right ever. âWhat are you doing here?â You ask.
Steveâs gaze falls to the grass below, throat bobbing as he swallows. âI needed to clear my head.â
You hum in response and decide not to push it, instead letting your knees stretch in front of you as your hands fall behind you. Your eyes fall to the white Walmart bag next to him and you gesture to it with your head, âWhatâs in the bag?â
Steve reaches over and pulls out a six pack of cheap beer, the kind you drank when you were trying to get stupid drunk. âI wasnât planning on having any company, so I hope sixâs enough for you.â
You snort, watching as he rips one out of its packaging and hands it to you. You ignore the brush of your hands as you do.
It pops open loudly, and you immediately bring it to your lips, ignoring the burning in your throat as it slides down roughly. Steve does the same, and you both sit in a comfortable silence and drink your respective drinks.
Youâre not sure if itâs the alcohol, but you canât stop looking at him. Thoughts of how pretty he is run through your mind - but so do others. Like questions of how you became strangers who knew everything about each other so quickly.
âDo you ever wonder about what things would be like if.. if we hadnât broken up?â You question quietly, eyes lingering on the side of his face.
He doesnât move for a moment, lips thinning out into a line. He breathes in through his nose, âSometimes I do. But every time I remember how things are between us I have to stop, because lying to myself almost hurts more than the reality.â
Your hands tighten into fists by your side, and you force back another gulp of the warm drink. âHow did we even get here?â You suddenly laugh out, âIt doesnât even feel natural.â
Steve shrugs, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. âHonestly? Iâm not really sure. Sometimes it feels like one day I was waking up with you and then the next I wasnât.â Well, technically that is what happened.
You're not sure if itâs the alcohol that gives you courage, but you finally admit, âSometimes I hate you for turning us into this.â You mutter, âSometimes I hate myself for not trying to fix it. But, sometimes I think that is how things were always going to turn out - that maybe we were never meant to be in each other's lives and we somehow screwed up Gods plans and this is our punishment.â
âI donât think he means it as a punishment.â Steve breathes, finally letting himself look at you, âI think itâs more of a lesson. A reminder, maybe.â
You snort, âWell, I hate this lesson, and Iâm ready for it to be over.â
âMe too.â
You donât argue when Steve scoots closer to you so your legs are touching, shorts rubbing against each other awkwardly.
You and Steve share an actual conversation - one without any arguing or resistance from you. Itâs a conversation like you used to have.
You donât argue when Steve offers you a ride home, showing that his beer is still half-way full. You donât argue when he tells you good night, in fact you bask in it.
That night when Steve goes to bed, he watches your light flick on and your shadow approach the window. You stand there for a while - contemplating he thinks - and he hopes that you do it. That you open the blinds and show him that everything would be okay again.
But you donât. You flick the light back off, and go to bed. Leaving the blinds closed.
taglist: @stevesxwhore @billielourdslays @carinacassiopeiae
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington#joe keery#joe keery x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x yn#jason carver#stranger things#stranger things x reader#steve harrington fanfic#exes to lovers#yn#x reader#robin buckley#Spotify
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God Eddie, You're So In Love With Me. (part 2)
Genre: Eddie Munson x Henderson!reader, fem!reader, angst/fluff, hurt/eventual comfort, friends to lovers
Summary: Being in Hellfire, youâve been exposed to your fair share of bullying. One day, Jason takes it a step too far.
Word count: 1.8k
Warnings: bullying, anaphylaxis, poisoning, no physical descriptions of Y/N so you donât have to look like Dustin, reader uses she/her, reader has a peanut allergy, swearing, angy Eddie, hospital
Authorâs note: Thank you so much for the positive comments on part 1! I was feeling insecure about this fic so that was very nice y'all are so sweet <3
Enjoy!
Main Masterlist
Part 1
Eddie looked to you, hoping to see you looking up at him and smiling that way you do whenever he uses his renaissance voice. Instead he met your panicked eyes.
âHey Henderson,â Jason called from across the cafeteria. âWhat happens now? Should we call an ambulance?â Andy shoved at his shoulder playfully and chortled alongside Jason.
Panic gripped you as you connected the dots.
âYeah,â you wheezed, âcall an ambulance.âÂ
All the Hellfire members whipped their heads toward you, witnessing an angry rash spreading across your skin and your breathing becoming audible as you tried to suck in as much oxygen as possible.
Eddieâs heart clenched painfully as he looked down at you, remembering the severity of your allergy after Dustin explained it to him one time. Still, Eddie was taken aback by the speed at which your symptoms were progressing.
You reached a hand out to Eddie as the choked coughs took over. He ignored your hand in favor of catching your body before it hit the ground. With trembling limbs he carefully lowered you to the grimy tile of the cafeteria floor.
âFuck,â Eddie cursed, âDustin! What do we do?!â
Dustin had froze. Panic set in as he watched his older sister struggle more and more to take in a full breath. A small crowd began to gather and the excited chatter of the cafeteria simmered into hushed whispers and gasps. Everyone was watching, and not in the way Eddie was used to.
âHenderson!â Eddie snapped.Â
At that, Dustin went to work. âMike, go call 911! Lucus, see if the nurse has an epipen. GO!â The sheep dispersed. Dustin picked up your bag with trembling hands and began digging through your books and school supplies, searching for the epinephrine injector he swears you kept in there.
Eddie turned his attention back to you, trusting that Dustin had the rest handled. At the look of panic in your blotchy and swollen face he almost froze too. A chilling dread spread through his veins as you began clawing at your throat, doing everything you could to open your airways.Â
âHey, hey, hey, look at me princess. Youâre gonna be alright, gonna be just fine, you hear me? D-Dustin will getchu your meds and youâll be good to go,â Eddie rambled, trying to convince himself just as much. He gently cradled your warm face and stroked your hair to try and soothe you.
With every second passing you became closer and closer to death. Eddie looked up in desperation. His red-headed neighbor (Max, he thinks her name is) snatched the backpack out of a distraught Dustinâs hands and turned it upside down, emptying its contents. Robin was there too and put a comforting arm around your brother while Max took over the search for the injector. Eddie was vaguely aware of a teacher trying to pry him off of you but heâd risk getting expelled for shoving a teacher if it meant staying by your side.Â
âGot it!â Max exclaimed, holding the orange and clear tube triumphantly. She slid to her knees on your otherside, not hesitating to jam the needle into your leg and holding it there.
Eddie flinched at the force it took to inject you. You took your first full breath, allowing him to take one as well. Your eyes were drooping slightly as the medicine was introduced into your system.
âHey, there she is,â Eddie said gently.
Your tired eyes met his and he couldâve sworn the corners of your lips twitched upwards.
The paramedics arrived and Eddie hesitantly let you go so they could treat you. It was a blur of navy blue and red as they hooked you up to numerous tubes and slid an oxygen mask over your head.Â
You became slightly more alert at the sight of strangers surrounding you as the stretcher clicked into place, raising you a couple feet off the ground. You moved your head tiredly trying to catch sight of anyone you knew. Anyone to comfort you.
âDustin, go with her,ᅵᅵᅵ Eddie told the curly haired boy. He looked up at him with wet eyes that clenched at Eddieâs heart. âShe needs you, go on.â
Eddie watched the determination emerge on the freshmanâs face as he walked through the paramedics declaring that he was your brother, allowing him to be by your side.Â
Swallowing thickly past the dryness in his mouth, Eddie watched you get rolled out on the stretcher.Â
He turned numbly to see that Lucas and Mike had returned and started digging through your lunch, in an attempt to find out what it was that couldâve caused your reaction. As the two predictably began to bicker, Eddie grabbed the cup of applesauce and slowly brought the spoon out. To his horror, he scooped out a few small round nuts mixed with the smooth texture of the applesauce.Â
His darkened eyes snapped up, immediately finding Jason. He at least had the decency to look scared, his skin white as a sheet. True terror shining through as he came to realize the severity of what he did. He shook his head slightly, pleading with Eddie. For what, he wasnât sure. But he could give a shit.
The grip on the applesauce tightened, causing it to tremble, before he launched it in Jason's general direction. A fire of rage lit up Eddie's entire being, consuming any reason or restraint within him.
âWhat the fuck is wrong with you?! You couldâve killed her!!â Eddie roared, the words ripping from his throat like a thunderclap. Every fiber in his being screamed for justice, determined to ensure that no harm would ever come to you again.Â
âI-I-I didnât thinkâŠI didnât mean to-â Jason blubbered.
âNot good enough!â Eddie snapped. He charged forward, driven by the need to avenge your pain. Just when he was closing the distance between them a thick arm wrapped around his upper body. âLET ME GO!â
Eddie struggled against the firm grip that held him back from doing to Jason what he should've done a long time ago. If Eddie was strong enough, he could've saved you, stopped all of this bullying in its tracks before Jason had ever even looked in your direction. His strength never came from muscles or brute force, but from his angerâthe primal need to protect those he loved. He was so consumed by his rage that a red haze blurred his vision. Or were those his tears?
âEddie, man, donât do this,â Doug said, doing his best to calm his friend.
âPlease,â Eddie pleaded, losing some of his fight. âJust let me go.âÂ
âDude, if you get into a fight you wonât be able to see Y/N in the hospital,â the bassist whispered in Eddieâs ear. He looked over and saw Principle Coleman closing in on them, there wasnât much time left. âWe can handle it, just go while you can.â
A wave of overwhelming frustration washed over Eddie as the struggle against Dougâs hold diminished. Tears welled up in his eyes as his chest released his rage and tightened back up with helplessness and despair.
He didnât let it consume him though, taking off in the opposite direction of the principle, his sheep following close behind.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When the van ripped into the hospital parking lot, Eddie finally took notice of how many stowaways he had. Lucas, Mike, Max, Robin, and even Nancy all burst through the double doors at the back of his skunky smelling van and made their way to the emergency room entrance.
Eddie was the first one through the doors, eyes scanning the waiting area for his curly haired friend. What he wasnât expecting to see was the one and only King Steve sitting with the boy.Â
Steve noticed them first, taking the lead on letting them know whatâs going on. He explained that youâd be fine but the doctors are running some tests and getting you hooked up to the necessary machines. Itâll be a little longer before Eddie gets to see you with his own eyes.
Eddie turned on his heel and walked through the doors he just came through as Steve explained that your mom was called but was on a trip with her girlfriends and wonât be able to make it back until tomorrow.
The disinfected smell of the hospital only offered to heighten Eddieâs desire for a cigarette. He finds solace in the only coping mechanism he has under his belt, even if he knew it was bad for him in the long run. The stress of the day weighed heavily on him as he leaned on the brick wall of the hospital outside. The familiar routine of lighting up offered a good distraction, the only way to momentarily ease his anxiety.
That was until your brother found him. He silently stood next to him, not feeling the need to fill the silence with anything but the gentle breeze and the birds chirping in the distance. But it made Eddie feel uneasy.
âIâd offer you a smoke, but I donât want to corrupt you more than I already have,â Eddie said with a sad laugh.
Ignoring Eddieâs comment, Dustin asked, âyou remember that one time when Hellfire came over to my house for a session? When the theater kids needed the drama room at school?â
Eddie nodded his head slowly, releasing the smoke from his lungs as he did so.
âI was still in middle school so I had only heard about you from Y/N. She had this weird way of speaking about you. It was in a way I had never heard her speak about anyone before.â
Eddieâs heart punched against his ribs painfully, his insecurities taking over.
âShe was nice enough to let me watch your campaign so I could get ideas for the campaign I was doing with Mike and Lucas, and our other friend Will. I think she regretted it because of the Reese's Pieces incident.â
Eddie couldnât help but start chuckling embarrassingly at the memory. âGod, that was so stupid,â he smacked his forehead in an attempt to stop his mind from reliving one of the most embarrassing moments of his life.Â
-
The Hellfire members flooded into your home, bringing chips, candy, and drinks to share. Your first time hosting the club was going great, until Dustin noticed the bag of Reeseâs Pieces in Eddieâs hand.
âMy sister is too nice to say anything but-â Dustin started.
âStop, Dustin-â
â-we canât have those in the house.â
Eddieâs eyebrows pinched beneath his bangs, âwhat? Why not?â
âSheâs allergic to peanuts.â
Before you could roll your eyes at your little brother and reassure him it was fine, Eddie turned and chucked the bag out your kitchenâs open window leaving you standing there in shock and Eddie horrified by his own impulse.
-
âI think thatâs when she fell in love with you.â
Eddieâs head whipped over to Dustin. The kid had the audacity to look smug after completely shattering his world view. His mind spun with the revelation.
Love, a word so potent, was now intertwined with his thoughts of your relationship. Eddie knew he liked you, a lot, but his brain never brought him to love. He replayed moments from your friendship in his head, searching for the signs, trying to decipher if Dustin was telling the truth. If the sentiment was truly real. A mix of surprise and uncertainty overwhelmed him, but there was also something warm and hopeful there. It was both exhilarating and terrifying.
He needed to see you and hear it from you directly. A million thoughts and memories raced through his mind, but one thing was clearâhe needed to be with you, to tell you how he felt.
part 3
tags: @beeblisss @fishwithtitz @leah-loves-lilies
#stranger things#netflix#mutal pining#friends to lovers#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x reader#henderson reader#dustin henderson#hellfire club#mike wheeler#lucas sinclair#max mayfield#robin buckley#steve harrington#fanfic#fanfiction#peanut allergy#whump#jason carver#angst#angst with a happy ending#fluff#hurt/comfort#hurt!reader#hospital#80s#protective eddie munson
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âStranger Things edition
#billy hargrove#steve harrington#i realized i should have switched eddieâs and jonathanâs but too late now#harringrove#heather holloway#robin buckley#buckleway#jargyle#creelson#jopper#billy antis dni#harringroveera#eddie munson#henry creel#jonathan byers#argyle#el hopper#max mayfield#mike wheeler#dustin henderson#lucas sinclair#jason carver#billy x steve#billy hargrove x steve harrington#incorrect harringrove quotes#incorrect billy hargrove quotes#harringrove textpost#steve x billy#steve harrington x billy hargrove#i spent way too much time thinking and making this
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âWill you be my husband really quick?â: A fake marriage with Eddie Munson AU.
Part 2: Here
Part 3: Here
A/N: I have been wanting to write this prompt for a while and Iâm glad yâall want it too! Thereâs gonna be a part 2 donât worry.
TW: Cursing and Eddie hits someone and this eludes that your ex wasnât the nicest.
Eddie is two beers in on what he figured was going to be a normal Friday night at the Hideout when he feels a hand grip his arm as heâs leaned over the bar grabbing a lighter from behind the stack of napkins and straws. He pauses his movements as he looks down at the hand thatâs still on his arm and slowly his eyes move upward until they finally land on your face. He notices your eyes are wide and youâre looking everywhere but at him as you scan the room as if youâre looking for someone, Eddie just stands up straight and places the lighter on the bar next to his half empty beer.
âWill you be my husband really quick?â Eddie knows he must be hearing things as you finally make eye contact with him. He watches as you seem to visibly relax a bit as you stare at him with a hopeful look on your face. âPlease?â He doesnât know what it is about you but he feels like if he tells you no he might actually regret it so instead he takes a quick sip of his beer as your hand falls from his arm and before you can react heâs draping his arm over your shoulders and pulling you into him.
âWhoâs the target?â Eddieâs voice is low and you can feel his breath on your neck as he whispers in your ear before placing a quick kiss to the side of your head, already playing into his husband role.
âRed shirt by the door.â You answer as one of your arms wrap around his middle, you feel Eddie lean away from you for a moment so he can get a good look at who youâre talking about.
âJason fucking Carver?â You look up at Eddie who is glaring at the blonde haired man by the door and you feel yourself tense up as Eddie reaches for his beer so he can finish it off. âHe your ex or something?â Eddie asks as he places the now empty bottle on the bar and motions to the bartender for another one.
âYeah heâs uhm my ex.â Eddie can tell by your tone of voice youâre nervous and it makes him wonder what Jason did that caused the two of you to go your separate ways. âIâm sorry this is dumb I shouldnât have bothered you.â You mumble as you try to move away from him but Eddie is quick to just pull you into him and wrap both arms around your shoulders making your cheek rest on his worn out Metallica shirt.
âNow what kind of husband would I be if I let you storm off like that?â Eddie begins running one of his hands up and down your back making you let out a soft sigh because for the first time in a long time you felt an odd sense of security and who wouldâve thought that of all places itâs while wrapped in the arms of a stranger. âIâve got you okay?â You look up and Eddie is already looking down at you making you feel even more at ease because his eyes are soft and his smile is sweet as he looks at you.
âOkay.â Is all you can say making Eddieâs hold on you tighten slightly as he leans down and places a small kiss to the top of your head in an attempt to help you relax a little more. âUh so whatâs your name?â Eddie laughs as he looks towards the door to check on the location of your ex.
âMy name is Eddie.â You just nod and tell him your name in return as your hands somehow find their way into his back pockets as you wrap your arms around his waist. âI can see my wife is a little handsy huh?â You hide your face in his chest as you try to slide your hands from his pockets. âItâs okay sweetheart weâre married remember? No need to be shy.â You canât help but laugh as Eddie goes back to running his hands up and down your back.
âSo how do you know Jason?â You feel Eddie tense up at the mention of your exâs name and it lets you know whatever memories Eddie has of him arenât good ones.
âHe was my high schoolâs official asshole.â You look up and rest your chin on Eddieâs chest as you watch his eyes look towards the door of the bar. âI take it he hasnât changed much?â He asks as he looks down at you with a raised eyebrow making you look away as some memories of your relationship with Jason reply in your head.
âYeah he hasnât changed.â Eddie doesnât miss the way your voice shakes a little as you answer his question.
âI can kick his ass right now if you want me to sweetheart just say the word and heâll be on the ground.â You may not know Eddie but something tells you heâs not kidding and that heâd get a lot of joy out of beating Jason up. âLet me add that I feel that since Iâm your husband itâs kinda my job to beat up your asshole ex boyfriends.â Eddie smiles to himself when he hears you laugh and just shake your head at him.
âAs your wife itâs kinda my job to keep you out of trouble.â Eddie lets out a dramatic huff as he drops one of his arms from you so he can reach over and grab his beer and take a long swig from it. âI uh like your rings.â Eddieâs eyes flicker down to yours as he watches you give the rings on his hand thatâs holding his beer a good once over.
âYeah? Which one is your favorite?â He asks as he puts his beer on the bar so he can let you get a better look at his rings. You unwrap your arms from around him so you can take his hand in yours, Eddie tries to ignore how soft your hands feel as you look at his rings giving a lot of attention to his skull one. âYou like the skull?â You just nod making Eddie smile because the skull one was also his favorite.
âWhat are you doing?â Eddie ignores your question as he brings his hand up to his mouth and you feel your eyes go wide as you watch him take his skull ring off and hold it between his lips for a moment before grabbing it. âI canât take this.â Eddie rolls his eyes as he gently grabs your left hand so he can slide the ring onto your ring finger.
âHow are you supposed to be my wife without a ring?â Eddie asks as he reaches over and tucks some of your hair behind your ear.
âYouâve got the be fucking with me.â You feel your heart drop to your stomach as Jasonâs voice fills your ears. Eddieâs arm drops from around you so he can turn and block you from Jasonâs view. âNot the freak still hanging around the Hideout.â You see Eddieâs hands form into fists as Jason laughs his almost evil sounding laugh.
âFuck off Carver donât you have a ball to go toss into a basket or something?â You giggle making Jason move so he can get a look at you, Eddie is quick to move so heâs still standing between you and the ex jock.
âWhat the fuck is going on?â Eddie looks at you over his shoulder making sure youâre okay and you just give him a reassuring smile as you place your hand on his lower back.
âJust enjoying a night out with my wife.â Jasonâs eyes go as wide as golf balls as Eddie explains what the two of you are doing at the Hideout.
âYour wife? Wow okay I mean even youâŠMunson the town freak can do better than her sheâs-â Jason doesnât get to finish his sentence before Eddieâs fist collides with his cheek knocking him to the ground.
âNext time you think about saying anything about her,â Eddie kneels down as he speaks so heâs only a few inches away from Jasonâs face as he groans in pain. âDonât.â He spits as he stands up and turns so he can grab your hand and walk you towards the back of the bar. âIâm sorryâŠI am so sorry.â You just shake your head as Eddieâs hands gently cup your face as he looks you over to make sure youâre okay because heâs never gotten into a fight before let alone knocked someone to the ground and thatâs the last thing he wanted you to have to deal with tonight.
âItâs okay.â You reassure him as you place your hands over his that are still on your face. âThank you.â Eddie just shrugs as he gives you a small smile.
âLike I said itâs my job as your husband to beat up your asshole ex boyfriends.â You laugh as Eddie leans in closer, he pauses as he get a few inches from your face. âIs it okay if I kiss you?â Eddie doesnât have to wait for your answer because your lips are on his in a mater of seconds for a sweet kiss.
#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson au#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x reader#fake marriage au#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson x you fluff#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x fem!reader fluff#jason carver#Eddie Munson#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things au#my little dungeon master baby#eddie munson scenario#Eddie Munson prompt
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Pre-season 4, maybe season 4 au-ish.
Jason and his friends are assholes but imagine if there were jocks who finally found the courage to stand up to those assholes and reveal that they actually like Eddie.
"He's not afraid to be himself!" One would say.
"He gives those kids a place to belong!" Another would say as they mutter in agreement.
"Dungeons and Dragons is just a game like basketball!"
"Yeah!" They agreed.
"And he's actually pretty fucking gorgeous!"
"Yeah - wait, what?"
"You don't think so?"
"You know, now that you mention it - yeah, he is pretty. It's his eyes."
"No, man, it's his hands. He's got great hands."
"No, no, no. It's his lips."
"His hips, definitely his hips."
"No, man, it's soul. It's so fucking beautiful."
"What the hell is happening?" Jason scowled.
"I like the way that he somehow reminds me that I like men and women."
"He makes me question my gender," one cheerleader said.
"These freaks are gay for the Freak!" Andy scowled.
"Damn straight, we are!"
"I don't know, I think they might have a point," Connor said, shoving his hands in his pocket.
"You're supposed to be on our side, Connor!" Jason spat.
Suddenly, it wasn't just the jocks. The cheerleaders started chiming in as well. Eddie, in the middle of it all, in the middle of cafeteria, witnessed it all.
"What the fuck is this?!" Eddie shrieked and then he stood up on the cafeteria table. "You don't have to but - raise your fucking hand if you secretly thought I was hot but were too afraid to say anything because of Carver?! . . . One, two, three - THAT'S A LOT OF HANDS! - JEFF?!"
"Chrissy! Put your hand down!" Jason told his girlfriend.
"I don't think I will!" Chrissy said cheerfully and then flipped Jason off.
"NANCY WHEELER?!" Eddie shrieked.
"I have eyes, don't I?" Nancy asked.
"OTHER WHEELER?!"
"Dude, you have the same type in men as your sister," Dustin laughed.
"Ew, gross, Dustin!" Mike scowled.
"BUCKLEY, WHY IS YOUR HAND IN THE AIR?"
"Oh, no, this isn't for me. I went to the payphone and updated Steve," Robin said. "He said to raise my hand for him."
"Well, tell Steve to get in line. I call dibs," Chrissy said.
"You can't just call dibs on a person," Mike scowled.
"And you're way too young for him," Chrissy said. "Don't you have a girlfriend?"
"Don't you have a boyfriend?" Mike asked.
"Jason, babe, I don't think this is going to work with us," Chrissy said.
"You're dead meat, Munson!" Jason yelled.
"You know, I think I'm just going to - " Eddie said.
He managed to grab his stuff and run out of the cafeteria. The last thing he saw was the entire cafeteria blocking Jason's path to him. He drove all the way home and burst through the door of the trailer, startling Wayne. Eddie leaned against the front door, breathing heavily.
"Boy, you're home early. They messing with you again?" Wayne scowled.
"It's worse than I thought," Eddie gasped. "They're all secretly in love with me. . .I DON'T HAVE A FEVER, UNCLE WAYNE!"
"Lord. . .tell me everything. . ."
"I just wanted to fucking eat lunch. . ."
#stranger things#eddie munson#stranger things s4#eddie stranger things#steddie#hellcheer#hellcheerington#stedancy#chrissy cunningham#steve harrington#mike wheeler#nancy wheeler#dustin henderson#jason carver#anti jason carver#everyone loves eddie munson#they're just too afraid to say so#eddie munson appreciation post#stranger things crack fic#stranger things fanfiction#rueleigh writes#rueleigh's thoughts
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jason carver, talking about robin buckley: i donât like her, chrissy. sheâs gonna corrupt you, i can feel it
chrissy cunningham, fully intending to corrupt robin at the first opportunity: mhm
#stranger things#chrissy cunningham#jason carver#robin buckley#buckingham#stranger things buckingham#bandcheer#*thoughtsbyambs
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#look argyle knows better but also#heâd still do it#sometimes the munchies demand flavourless cold store bought tortillas#billy hargrove#steve harrington#eddie munson#jason carver#stranger things#nancy wheeler#robin buckley#chrissy cunningham#argyle#jonathan byers
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as always saw the text on other people and knew what I had to do
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So no one was gonna tell me Mason was writing Munver fanfic on his Instagram 2 years ago?!
#lol he's so real for that#the first to ship munver#he was ahead of his time#eddie munson#jason carver#munver#tigerfreak#jason carver x eddie munson
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