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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 1 year ago

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Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 71

Part 1 Part 70

Eddie doesn’t realize how in tune he is with Steve until the connection with him slackens and then yanks. He almost doesn’t have a choice but to follow it, reeled in like on the line, but it doesn’t matter; Eddie Munson will always go where Steve Harrington leads him.

He rounds the playground at a dead sprint, smoker’s lungs protesting but he doesn’t slow until he sees Steve. It takes him a second to realize what’s happening because Steve isn’t running from some creature Dustin had brought to school. He’s just standing there.

It's not like last time in the closet, though. Or in Wayne’s truck, or Will’s bed. He’s not staring off into the distance, vacant and gone, no. His eyelids are flickering violently beneath his lids. It’s like he’s having a nightmare.

“Steve?” he shouts, clutching Steve’s shoulders and shaking. When nothing happens, he moves his hand up to Steve’s neck, hoping the skin-to-skin contact brings him back.

It doesn’t. Steve’s skin is cool, the winter air leeching away his warmth.

“Steve, please come back,” he demands, his other hand moving up to cradle his neck. He wants to ring it, choke the life out of him rather than lose him to whatever this is. His fingers flex, biting into his skin just a little.

Eddie hears a door behind him open with a crash as it bangs into something with the force of its swinging. He doesn’t turn around to see who the feet running up behind him are, doesn’t care until he feels the bright, shining dot that is Will Byers moving toward him.

He stops at his side, bright and sharp and so fucking warm. Eddie turns, still clutching Steve’s neck. Will reaches out, fingers hesitating by Steve’s shoulder as he looks up at Steve’s face with shining eyes.

“Please, baby Byers?” he asks, voice breaking on the tears clogging his throat.

Will meets his eyes, looking up, up, up at where Eddie stands, asking something of him that’s unfair. He’s too small for this. Too scared. Too young. But Steve’s convulsing beneath Eddie’s fingers and he can’t fucking breath. “Please.”

The door opens again, more bodies pouring out, the loud voices of the party doing fuck-all to break Eddie’s focus on Will. Will who doesn’t even have to ask what he means. Will barely hesitates before he’s reaching out.

Someone shouts, “no!” desperate and breaking. Eddie thinks it’s Mike, but he doesn’t turn away from Will, can’t as he watches his small hand inch forward to cover Eddie’s own on Steve’s neck. He has to reach so far, arm extending to its limit.

The warmth of his palm on the back of Eddie’s hand makes him gasp, squeezing Steve’s throat tighter. He doesn’t stop Will from creeping his hand forward, pushing his fingers in the spaces between Eddie’s own and sinking down until he’s touching Steve’s chilled skin.

Part 72

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @1-8oo-wtfbro @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso @best-selling-show @v3lv3tf0x @bookworm0690 @paintsplatteredandimperfect

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #my fic #steddie upsidedown au #will byers #a short one!

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sinclairstarz · 6 months ago

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Action-comedy buddy detective AU byler, anyone?

loosely based on the movie ‘The Nice Guys’ because I’m obsessed with, in love with, etc, that movie. The plot is ultimately different but just know it’s based on that. More info under the cut :3

So it’s the late 70s in Hawkins, which is a big city in this AU.

Will:

Will Byers is a 25 year old private investigator. If you want help with a custody battle, or to see if your partner is cheating, he might be the person to go to. Business is a little slow because people often don’t trust how young he is. He’s a heavy smoker who’s mother died a year prior, perpetually tired and burnt out but always trying to look on the bright side. He lives with his little sister, El, who’s 19 and deceivingly clever and helps him with his cases a lot. His older brother Jonathon has fallen in with some shady people since he got into drugs at a young age, and he’s hooking up with an unknown actress, Nancy Wheeler. One day, a porno actor Nancy knew, Steve Harrington, is killed in an onstage accident. His friend Robin, who’s also close with Jonathon and Nancy, suspects foul play and seeks out Will to ask him to investigate. After discovering some evidence, Will is lead to believe a drug-dealer named Max Mayfield who has recently gone missing is the killer, and begins to seek her out. El, who knew Max in middle school is ambitious to help Will, but to her annoyance he won’t let her follow him to the parties and bars and dangerous streets, worried for her safety.

Mike:

Mike Wheeler is a private investigator who’s legitimacy is… questionable and who’s well-being and mental health is worse than questionable. He lives alone in a crummy apartment, he grew up wealthy but stopped speaking to his parents after he dropped out of business school. He mostly deals with shadier crimier clients, people who go to him because they can’t go to the police. He’s work multiple cases for Billy Hargrove - an asshole with a dense criminal history, mostly involved in the drugs+sex+party scene - and his guys. Billy’s little sister, Max Mayfield deals for him and is known for getting into trouble. When Max goes missing, Billy comes to Mike to find her.

In their investigations, Mike and Will keep running into each other at the same parties and drive-ins and gunfights and after having to help each other out multiple times, they figure out they’re both looking for the same girl and decide to just join forces. Tension and romance ensues. El is extremely annoyed of Mike being at their house.

Extras:

- Dustin’s a bartender Mike goes to for information because he’s always at the same hangout places as the criminals Mike’s investigating.

- Lucas is Max’s boyfriend. He’s not super pleased with Mike and Will sniffing around trying to find her,

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steviewashere · 8 months ago

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Your Body is Warm Next to Mine

Rating: General CW: None Apply! Tags: Post-Canon, Post Season 4, Established Relationship, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Steve Harrington Likes Back Scratches, Eddie Munson Likes Giving Back Scratches, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Domestic Fluff, Literal Sleeping Together, Tired Steve Harrington, Sappy, Eddie Munson Calls Steve Harrington Pet Names

Based on This Tweet

(Two Times Eddie Scratches Steve's Back)

😴—————😴 1.

“Getting tired, baby?”

Steve hums. He wants to feign wakefulness. Pay attention to the rest of the movie that Eddie put on. Keep talking and cuddle in close and eat junk food. But he’s wiped. A long shift at Family Video earlier in the day with the addition of a few errands he had to run afterwards, tired doesn’t even cover what he’s feeling. Something more akin to mush. Just a heavy fog. Partially floating. Partially sinking into his spot on the couch. “Could say that,” he mutters.

The movie’s dialogue comes to an abrupt stop, most likely from Eddie pausing it. Then, the player whirs as it rewinds the tape. The TV crackling when it gets turned off. Hands wrap around Steve’s, warm and welcoming. They squeeze and tug lightly. “Alright, Stevie, let’s head up to bed,” Eddie murmurs.

He follows in a sludge. Through their apartment’s hallway, past the bathroom, and straight into the center of their bedroom. Steve shucks his pants off, replaces the polo he’d been wearing with a plain grey t-shirt, and unceremoniously collapses into bed. Behind him, Eddie chuckles, still carefully getting dressed into his pajamas. His hand gently taps at Steve’s left calf, ushering him to move up the bed and over to his spot. The left side meeting his skin like an early morning breeze.

Once Eddie lays on his side, Steve grabs for his right hand. Places it on his back. And then shimmies down into the mattress. One arm under his pillow, the other laying between them. He opens his eyes, raises his eyebrows slightly, and tries for his best pleading glance to where Eddie’s hand lays on his back.

He sighs into his position when Eddie lightly rolls his eyes, but immediately works his hand under Steve’s t-shirt. His eyes flutter close again, but he doesn’t fall asleep quite yet. Instead, he quietly requests, “Tell me about your day?”

With the tips of his fingers, Eddie begins by tracing the edges of Steve’s scars. Over the thick tissue, around the planes of sensitive and plush patches. He takes an easy breath and begins to whisper, “Well, I woke up while you were in the shower this morning. And I didn’t want to interrupt your little concert that you were having—“

“I don’t sing in the shower,” Steve feebly argues.

Eddie chuckles under his breath. “Hmm, must live next door to George Michael then,” he muses. His thumb presses into the top of Steve’s spine, running down in a single line. “But I didn’t want to interrupt, so I went out for a little walk around the complex. There weren’t any strong winds. Nobody was outside that early except for a couple smokers. The light breeze was on my face. Felt amazing,” he murmurs. His hand flattens against Steve’s back, swiping up and down and over his shoulder blades. Pressing more firmly where resistance meets his touch.

Continues, “But then, my little walk was interrupted. By the couple that lives in apartment 6A, y’know, on the second floor? Screaming and hollering at each other. They were arguing about—“

“Her dirtbag husband cheating, which was obvious from the start,” they say in unison. Steve snorts and nuzzles his head further into his pillow. His eyes droop more with exhaustion, but his breathing doesn’t completely slow. Still looking on at Eddie for more.

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs. “Told you about it when you got out. You then called Robin and told her all about it. I went to the kitchen while you guys talked. Smiled to myself as I poured coffee into our special mugs.” Steve’s mug is a yellow one that says ‘Keep a Smile on Your Face’ in red text. Eddie’s is a Seattle Pike Place Market mug—white with an array of colorful fruit on it. “Put creamer in mine, the vanilla one that you complain is way too sweet. Splash of whole milk in yours. Set it out on the dining table and made you toast; heavy coat of butter, thin layer of strawberry jam—not jelly.”

During Eddie’s recount, Steve has shuffled closer. Squishing his left arm between their bodies. Nearly nose to nose with each other. Eddie drags his blunt fingernails in counter-clockwise circles on Steve’s lower back, almost tickling him with how light the pressure is. He hums in delight.

“Grabbed oranges for us. Sat at the table and waited. Did the daily crossword in the newspaper before you had the chance, which made you slightly annoyed, but not furious.” Eddie leans into Steve’s space more, pressing a chaste kiss to the tip of his nose. Grins to himself when Steve closes his eyes and smiles back. “Gave you the sports page. Which you read while peeling our oranges. And then you passed me yours, I removed the pulp from it. We ate in silence. I sat and thought about how much I love you,” he whispers almost like a confession.

Steve doesn’t say anything, instead basking in the soft touch he’s been given. Soaking it all in, letting himself be drenched with it. His chest warms pleasantly and his stomach flips at Eddie’s words.

Eddie taps his index finger over several areas of Steve’s back. Counting with the lowest and gentlest voice he can muster. Takes the edge of his fingernail and traces lines between the spots. “What’re you doing, Eds?” Steve sleepily asks.

“Making constellations,” he mutters. Eyes watching where his hand moves. “See, here’s a star—“ His finger pats. “—And here’s another,” he states, drawing another line. “There. That’s one constellation. Here comes one more.” Steve lets him do this. It’s the first time this has happened, but he certainly doesn’t want it to be the last. There’s four more constellations that he makes before running his palm heavily against the whole of Steve’s back. “Anyway,” he sighs. “Then, you went to work. And so I cleaned a bit. Did the dishes, wiped the table, organized our movies. Watched a couple reruns of Family Ties. Took a nap and dreamed about you.”

“Dream?” Steve mumbles.

Eddie kisses his clothed shoulder. “Kissed you in it,” he answers. “But I woke up. Made us some dinner. Spaghetti, your favorite. Even grated the parmesan by hand. I know—I’m a very fancy guy, it comes with the name.” Steve makes a half-hearted snort, too muffled by his exhaustion to be a real sound. “You came home. Made my dream come true, kissed you by the door. We ate. Started watching Animal House, with my insistence, even though you tried to protest.”

“You don’t like it,” Steve sighs.

“I do,” Eddie insists softly. “I just like to tease you a little. But I didn’t tonight because I could tell you had a very long day. Dead on your feet, sweetheart. Then, before I knew it, you were half-asleep against my shoulder.” He kisses Steve’s forehead this time. On his cheek. The lobe of his ear. Another to his shoulder. However, he doesn’t go in for one on the mouth. Steve’s breaths have completely slowed, his lips puffing slightly with each exhale, and his eyes remain closed and relaxed. There’s already a line of drool creeping to run down his cheek.

Eddie drags his hand one more time down Steve’s spine. “Night, baby,” he whispers. But it’s washed out by Steve’s soft snores. He tucks the comforter around them, tighter than it was before. Lays himself half over Steve’s back. And kisses the back of his head. Ready for the next time he’ll do this all over again.

——— 2.

Eddie draws him in a little closer. Pressing them against each other’s sides. Steve wraps his arms around Eddie’s waist. Sets his head on his shoulder. And Eddie digs his chin into the top of his head.

They’re an hour into The Labyrinth when Steve gives a sleepy nudge to Eddie’s hand. Reaching behind himself to place Eddie’s palm on his back.

“Over the shirt or under?” Steve is asked.

“Over,” he answers through a sigh. Leans his full body weight into Eddie and watches the next several minutes of their movie knowing Eddie has him. Enjoys the way the dull scratches move his t-shirt, the soft rustle of his clothing being shifted. How his nails dig into him a little bit more on his softer parts, but how they traverse the scarred blades with caution. The circular motions of his fingers a gentle lull.

He hums at the sensation. Falling into it all a little more.

Eddie always enjoys giving Steve back scratches if only to see him fall asleep. Even if it’s on the couch, while they’re watching one of his favorite movies. He switches between etched lines and tracing the shape of Steve’s shoulders blades. Goes from circular scratches to whole palm sweeps. Just to make sure that Steve continues his late night nap. He can always tell when it’s been a long day by two things: when Steve takes a nap, and how he asks for his back to be scratched.

Sometimes, Steve will just ask the question. Usually when he’s more lucid or if he’s still slow to waking up. But, typically, it’s forcing Eddie’s hand on his back. Leaning into the touch. Nuzzling in close and all too warm.

It’s forty minutes later when Steve does wake back up. Rousing gently, slowly. Instead of startling awake like he does with a nightmare. His shoulders shift, shimmying nearly. Arms tighten around Eddie’s waist. Rubbing his cheek against Eddie’s shoulder, lips smearing on his shirt, the drool wetting Eddie’s skin a bit. “Mm, sorry,” he mumbles, “fell asleep during the movie.”

“You’re alright, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs right back. “Back scratch must’ve been good.”

“Should get a job as a professional back scratcher,” Steve says. But his words slur slightly, as if he’s already trying to go back to sleep. It probably doesn’t help that Eddie is still moving his nails over Steve’s shoulders, up to the base of his neck, down his spine.

Eddie snorts. “Getting sleepy, baby?”

“Yeah,” Steve admits with a sigh.

“Alright, Stevie, let’s get you to bed.”

And he starts their nightly routine all over again. Shutting off the movie. Hauling Steve up. Indulging when he wants a back scratch. Telling him about his day.

“It was a great day,” he begins, “because I was able to love you.”

😴—————😴

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #tooth rotting fluff #fluff #domestic fluff

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chaptersleftunwritten · 2 months ago

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(6. New Years Eve and 11. New Apartment) For my ficlet event with Steve Harrington with hints of Eddie Munson! And yes… I did request this one myself , also! Feel free to send any prompts in with your desired character! Xoxo

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, smoking, drugs… let me know if I’ve missed anything.

Apartment block 2, House No. 11

Your new home across the landing from a handsome stranger whose name you hadn’t acquired yet. He was sweet enough to help the moving men you had hired up the multi-storey stair case with your sofa and furniture— unfortunately you weren’t there to witness it. But you had been told.

You would always glimpse parts of his life as you walked by his front door. There would be laughter and noise coming from inside, groans of agitation when the sports games were on and live electric guitar being played throughout the supposing quiet hours of the day. Sometimes you could have sworn that you could smell hints of marijuana seeping in through your open window from the fire escape.

He didn’t seem like a smoker— but who were you to label him? You didn’t know him. Not yet.

It was New Year’s Eve and you watched from the comfort of your sofa as the night fallen city roared to life. People in glittering dresses and party hats. Empty beverage bottles and metal cans littered the streets and you watched drunken revellers sway and sing as they dragged themselves along the concrete below your window. The clock had barely just struck 8 p.m. and you would be lying if you said you weren’t shocked to see people celebrating this early.

However, maybe you were just feeling a little sour because you had nowhere to go. No party to attend. No friends to catch up with.

The joys of starting a new life in a new city.

You feed yourself the last bite of ice cream and as you set the empty ceramic bowl and spoon into the sink with a clank and bang that’s when you first hear the speakers playing through the wall. A thumping bass that seems to rattle every bone in your body.

In the stairwell you can hear people spilling into the apartment next door, not caring to keep their voices down as they pile inside. The masses grow and by 8:30 p.m. the place is packed full of sweaty, drunken fools bringing in the close to the year.

Dread settles within you and you find momentary solace on the fire escape, breathing in the fresh cool air— until someone else seems to feel the need to join you there.

“You must be the new neighbour! Welcome to the jungle.” His cigarette cherry illuminates his face and casts complimentary shadows across his chiselled bone structure. You try to pinpoint if you have seen him before, but your mind comes up blank. You don’t recognise his long, unruly dark hair and the black tattoos inked across his pale skin.

He seemed friendly enough, trying to spark a mediocre conversation with you. But you weren’t in a very talkative mood. You just wanted some peace and quiet. You wanted to be able to hear yourself think.

“Aren’t you gonna come and join the party? It’s New Year’s!” He exclaims as he flicks his cigarette bud across the railing and your eyes watch it as it plummets to the ground below. Still lit at the end.

Horror startles you into a frenzy as the man starts to climb over toward your perched body and you splay your hands out flat in front of you, “No, no! Don’t come over here— you might fall!” To your dismay and bewilderment, he makes it across to you safely and only now are you able to truly look at him in all of his Metal glory.

“M’ Eddie, by the way. Harrington’s friend.” His thumb shoots back to where he had clambered over from and at the confusion that crosses your face he laughs before crossing his arms over his chest and tucking his ringed fingers beneath his armpits, “Steve. Steve Harrington. Your neighbour?”

A newfound sense of clarity washes over you and you nod meekly, slightly embarrassed, “We haven’t been introduced yet, I suppose. It’s nice to put a name to a face.” You shrug your shoulders and Eddie leans lesuirely against the rusted railing behind him.

“Why don’t you come over then? Be all neighbourly and crash his party. I’m sure he would love to see you there.” Alongside the lilt in Eddie’s voice and the wide grin on his face it hinted to you that he knew something that you didn’t and it made you nervous but all the more curious to know what he meant.

You found yourself wondering what Steve’s apartment looked like. How it was decorated; what colours did he like? What colours did he hate? Did he live alone or was he in a relationship? Any pets? What did he do for work?

You were intrigued. So intrigued that you allowed this stranger to convince you to attend the party next door.

And when you walked in side by side with Eddie, you felt as though you had this gravitational pull that forced eyes to wander to you. They would settle on you for a second or two before they would drift back to whatever they were focused on before your arrival. It gave you a brief power trip. You felt desired. Welcomed.

“Hey, Harrington!!” Eddie used his fingers to whistle over the deafening music and the sight of Steve turning his heated gaze to settle on you made you want to melt into a puddle. His eyes were so warm and glossy— like honey. If you weren’t careful, you could get lost in them, “I set up this official meet, thank me later,” with a dramatic cough of his throat Eddie continues, “Steve this is neighbour, Neighbour this is Steve. Enjoy.” With a not so subtle wink Eddie disperses to somewhere located within the premises and you are left standing with Steve. Finding yourself rather jealous of the volume in his hair.

“It’s nice to meet you— finally.” He smiles down at you and you fight back a blush. You were meeting him under totally normal circumstances however you were still quite flustered by the fact that you hadn’t introduced yourself before now. It had been a few weeks and you hadn’t spoken to one another; not even once. You felt you could’ve insulted him— you thought of yourself as rude.

However, with Steve’s soft demeanour, you were led to believe otherwise. Maybe he was just as embarrassed as you.

“It’s nice to meet you too! It’s strange how formal Eddie made it but I’m glad he invited me nonetheless.”

“I was going to invite you,” a sheet of panic washes over Steve, “I just wasn’t sure if you were the type to enjoy parties…”

Excuses, excuses.

The actual reason he hadn’t invited you was because he thought you were cute— gorgeous, even, and he was a bit too bashful to just come straight out and talk to you. He knew that a party invitation could have been a good ice breaker, but he was also aware that it could have made him out to be a total jackass. And that was the last thing he wanted.

“I get it, don’t worry! I’m here now.” You’re smiling up at him, much more relaxed than you were before, and Steve settles into your presence like a you were a friend he had known for years. He liked you. You were polite and respectful.

“So, any New Year’s resolutions? Mines is that I should definitely stop drinking so much beer.” It made you giggle as you watched him finish off his can of Bud and you tap your index finger against your lips, lost in a beat of thought.

“Mines would be that I should talk to my neighbours more often— I met one of them recently and they seem to be really nice. Hopefully he stays that way.” You were proud of how your confidence had sky rocketed within the last 10 minutes and Steve wiggles his eyebrows at you knowingly.

“I’m sure he’ll remain that way. Especially since his neighbour is a total heartthrob and a sweetheart.” He blamed the alcohol for his flirtatious forwardness but he couldn’t help it. Not with you looking up at him like that.

You shake your head as you laugh, scanning around his living room for any signs of an untouched drink, “If he play his cards right he might end up with a New Year’s kiss at the end of the night— but first, I need a drink. Have you got any?”

He nods a little too eagerly and your heart swells and swoons in your chest. You were kicking yourself at the fact you had left this interaction untouched for so long. What were you so afraid of? Steve was like a puppy dog.

“Wait here, I’ll go and grab you one from the fridge.” You watch as he swivels and swerves through the sea of dancing bodies and you keep your feet planted exactly where they were on the hardwood floor. Excited for Steve’s return.

Beer pong, shots and drunken charades had all been filtered in throughout the night. 12 a.m. was fast approaching and the adrenaline flooding your veins at the thought of stealing a kiss from Steve left you buzzing with happiness and nerves.

You eyed him from across the room, admiring his black suit jacket and his perfectly styled hair. You watched as he interacted with his friends and party guests— so kind and nurturing. It only cemented your agenda.

As soon as that countdown began, you were running to him. And luckily for you— you didn’t have long to wait.

“1 minute everybody!!” Someone screams from your side, their voice bellowing in your ear and grabbing your attention. Your heart flutters in your chest and as you look back over at Steve you are pleasantly surprised to see that he is also looking at you. You chew on your bottom lip in anticipation, all girlish and excited for what the near future holds.

“10…” You freeze as the chant begins.

“9…” You prepare yourself, setting your cup down on a random flat surface.

“8…” You feel like your heart is beating outside of your chest.

“7…” Steve’s hands twitch with longing and you watch his face contour with nerves.

“6…” You are making your way over to him, your feet are quick against the hard and slightly sticky floor.

“5…” It’s a fight against bodies and time, and Steve is quick to try and meet you through the crowd.

“4…”You begin to fret that you won’t make it to him in time, sandwiched between a couple who are already making out.

“3…” Steve rounds the couple and takes your wrists into his smooth but massive hands.

“2…” It’s all eye contact now. Unwritten permission being asked.

“1…” You nod feverishly. And in a blink of an eye Steve’s lips are on yours as chaos ignites around your stilled bodies. His fingertips trace and tangle through your hair as he cups your face closer to his. Your shaky hands steady themselves on his broad and plump chest and you struggle to breathe as you devour one another.

“Happy New Year!!” The crowd scream but you and Steve remain unmoved and entangled in one another.

It really was a Happy start to the New Year indeed.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #chapters ficlets #my ficlets #ficlet #stranger things #eddie munson stranger things #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #eddie munson fluff

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all-alone-he-turns-to-stone · 1 year ago

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Crush

Stranger Things Masterlist

Summary: You thought it was a good idea to go to that Halloween party. After all, everyone was going. But when you start getting harassed and made fun of, you realize you don’t belong there. Until someone unexpected decides to step up for you, even if it means getting injured in the process. Pairing: Steve Harrington x F!Reader Warning: Fluff, bullying, slight violence Word Count: 2536 Square filled: Accept Injury to Protect Someone for @hurtcomfort-bingo A/n: Okay so I was supposed to finish this and post it on Halloween, but like @deans-spinster-witch said, Halloween is not just a holiday, so here you go!! Don't forget to leave a feedback!! (Sorry for any mistake!)

At first it seemed like a good idea.

It wasn't your kind of night, obviously, and usually you would have declined and ignored the invitation, stayed home and watched a good horror movie with your cat. But this year, you promised yourself. Everybody kept saying it, without effort, you would never get anything. You had to do something to get what you wanted.

So this year, it’ll be different.

And then, you received an invitation. It was strange, how it got to you. Almost everyone had received them at school, but you usually never received one. It was either Steve or his friends that had them and decided who to invite, leaving behind the nerds and people they didn’t particularly like. It was the party that could not be missed, so every invitation mattered like a winning lottery ticket.

So how surprised were you when you found one in your favorite book at the school library. Now, you thought about it. Maybe someone forgot it in the book, or used it as a marker. But first of all, those invitations were worth a lot, so no one would ever risk leaving it behind or use it as a marker. And second, you picked up this book every day during lunch to read, and placed it in a particular spot on the shelf you only knew about. If someone else found it, it had to be a miracle or some sort.

And there was also kind of your name on the invitation, so…

It had to be for you, right?

Since it was in none other than Steve Harrington's big, dreamy house, the annual Halloween party was always highly anticipated. And since it was your first time being invited, how could you say no, especially now that you wanted your year to be different?

Your costume was very simple, and although it was out of your comfort zone, you wanted to wear it. The skirt reached almost to your knees, so not too short. The collar wasn't low-cut, although the sleeves fell down your arms, baring your shoulders more than you would have liked, but it wasn't anything too significant. The maid outfit was cute, with the little apron and the bows here and there, you felt pretty. Beautiful.

Taking a deep breath, you made sure your hair still had those beautiful curls you took an hour to style before entering the house. The music was echoing outside, you started to hear it a street away and now that you were near the door, the booms of the song seemed to be ringing within your body and not from the house.

So, okay, you never went to that kind of party, but you knew the ethics to have. Don't knock, never arrive on time, even less early, and above all, have fun.

“You can do it, Y/n,” you cheered yourself up. A barely trembling hand rested on the cold doorknob. Then, you twist it to open the door. The music wafted from inside, along with the heat and a strong smell of alcohol, popcorn, and sweat hitting you in the face.

Not letting that slow you down, you took a step forward and entered the house.

The music wasn't that bad. There were drinks other than alcohol offered. Popcorn wasn't the only snack on the table. Most of the smokers were outside. Yeah, you were cheering yourself up about the party and finding excuses to stay.

Oh, and Steve was there. Obviously, since it was his house. But even if the party wasn’t at his place, he probably would have been there anyway. Steve wasn't someone who missed these kinds of parties.

But, just thinking that maybe, surely, you would meet him caused your heart to beat frantically. Suddenly, you felt hot, and it wasn't the juice you'd been sipping for the past few hours that was going to help. The need for air won out, so you headed towards the back to get out of the house.

It wasn't that there was anything between you and Steve. It was probably all in your head, anyway. But since the signs were raining down around you, how could you not imagine that there was something?

There was how you kept falling on him, or rushing into him, how he had the reflex to reach out to catch you, and as he did so, his perfect scent enveloped you. How he always sat in front of you in class and almost every time, turned to ask you something. One day, it was a pencil. Then, what day it was. Or to make a pretty bad joke that you laughed at anyway. How he would wink at you then, run a hand through his perfect hair to straighten it, and turn around to listen to the class. When he had to pass the papers back, he always took the trouble to get up and distribute them to everyone. And for you, he always said “Here you go, my sweet Y/n.”

It was probably stupid and selfish, but you had a big crush on him since forever and liked to imagine he did all of that because he liked you too.

Your head in the clouds full of Steve, you weren't looking where you were heading. Now outside, you were looking up at the starry sky while walking, completely lost in your thoughts when you hit something solid.

Of course, it woke you up completely like you just received a cold shower. Unfortunately, too late to realize that you were still holding your drink, the cup full of juice becoming the first impact with the obstacle, which poured all the liquid out and splashed it on...

“Oh come on, fuck! Can’t watch where you’re going, freak?!”

Tommy Hagan himself. Steve's best friend and the guy you avoided as much as possible in school, even going so far as to change hallways when you saw him in the distance with Carol. And as if by magic, disguised as a cat - “disguised” being a very big word, her body was barely covered in fabric, if you didn't count the ears on her head-, she appeared behind him.

“I’m so so so sorry,” you hastened to say, hoping deep down that maybe, somewhere in them, there was an ounce of kindness. Turning your head from left to right, you looked around for a cloth, anything to clean the dark stain spreading across Tommy's white shirt. But of course there was nothing.

“Can’t look where you’re going?” Carol jumped in, her voice loud for everyone to hear. Feeling dozens of pairs of eyes on you, your whole body felt like getting on fire. You hated this kind of attention.

“Hey, I said sorry, okay?” Not knowing what to do to make things right and feeling the nervousness building to a critical level within you, you started backing away.

“You should be sorry for being there. Why are you even here? Who the fuck invited the teacher’s pet?” Carol added, a hand placed on her hip. Behind her, you could hear some people agreeing with her words.

Your heart sank.

Obviously, because you were the best in your class, people saw you as the teacher's pet. However, Steve too, was one of the best in several classes. And no one made that kind of comment to him.

“No one wants you here, loser!” Someone shouted somewhere. Each word felt like a stab in the back. Arching more and more forward, you wanted to hide. Hide in yourself. Disappear.

“You ruin everything you touch, clearly.” Now right in front of you, Carol was looking down on you. By wanting to disappear, you made yourself very small, so much she seemed giant in front of you. “And what are you supposed to be, a maid? Go clean this, then.”

Everything happened quickly.

The cup Carol was holding, this one containing not juice but something worse, beer, flew in your direction. All its contents left the plastic and ended up on you. On your costume. The smell rose to your nose with nausea and tears burning your eyes. But that wasn't the worst. No, the worst part was the laughter that accompanied her gesture. Tommy walked right into your personal space, so close that you could smell the perfume he put on in a far too much quantity.

“You’re insufferable.”

A blink of the eyes. Tears ran down your cheeks. A second blink, and you were about to turn around and run away when heat pressed against your back, trapping you between Tommy and the exit.

“What the fuck is going on?”

You recognized the voice immediately. Shame overwhelmed you once again, and you opened your mouth to apologize, to say that you were planning to leave immediately, but when you turned your head to look behind you, it was to see that Steve's attention was completely on Tommy.

“What do you mean?” Tommy stepped back, both arms outstretched. “I’m just telling the truth. No one wants her here. I don’t even think half the people here know who she is.”

More stabs in the back. He was right. Of course. You didn’t have your place here. Suddenly, you missed your cat at home.

“Are you okay, Y/n?”

Not expecting the voice to get so soft and to be directed to you, you didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you kept your head down and looked at the ground. When the heat left your back and the black shoes entered your sight, you finally lifted your head, more tears falling down your cheeks as you met Steve’s eyes.

God. He was so close. So handsome. And he just asked you if you were okay. You were frozen for a moment, not able to move a single muscle. Completely in the trance of his gaze. The thumps of your heart were so loud, ringing in your ears and pushing against your rib cage.

“Alright, everyone! Mr. Loverman here has a little crush for the nerd!” Tommy shouted for everyone to hear, but most of the people were back to minding their own business. Steve had that power, after all. It was his house, his party. His rules.

“I’m gonna ask you to leave,” he said, barely acknowledging what Tommy just said.

“Oh wow, I didn’t know you wanted her that bad, huh?” Tommy added, getting dangerously too close to Steve.

“Guys, please, it’s fine, I’ll just leave,” you muttered, not liking where this was going.

“No. Y/n, you are welcome here. Tommy, Carol, not so much.” Sticking out a finger, Steve pressed it against his friend’s torso. Well, you guessed there weren’t really friends anymore? The way they looked at each other, clearly, something was off. “Leave.”

“And what if we don’t?” Tommy stepped forward, not impressed at all by Steve.

“Alright then,” Steve shrugged and turned around to leave. You met his gaze for half a second, but it was half a second too long. The moment Steve saw you were still crying, something changed. His whole facial expression switched like he was finally removing his mask. And then, he was spinning around, his fist clenched tight, and punched Tommy right in the chin.

You really weren’t expecting a fight tonight. Especially not a fight because of you. You already hated being in the middle of the attention, even more being the cause of a fight at a party. Already, people were circling as Steve and Tommy were fighting while all you could do was stand back and watch, both hands on your mouth as more tears ran down your cheeks.

Some tried to pull them apart while most of the spectators were cheering. While the fight didn’t last very long, it felt like forever until finally, two people were able to drag Tommy away from a very bruised Steve laying on the ground. Once Tommy was properly kicked out of Steve’s property, followed by Carol, the crowd dissipated and you immediately rushed to Steve.

Sitting up, he had a bloody nose and one of his eyes was already starting to swollen. You kneeled next to him as he was wiping his nose and spitting blood on the other side.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” You checked his face, his injuries, and cursed yourself for not having anything to press against his face, like ice, or just a cold cloth. “I’m so sorry,” you immediately apologized. Somewhere behind you, a hand gave you what you wanted, a wet cloth that you took and softly pressed against his split lip and nose. Steve winced.

“Don’t be sorry,” he muttered and sighed. “Tommy went too far.”

“B-But,” you stammered, panic still strong in your body. Your whole body was shaking, you didn’t know if it was because of how cold you were since you were soaked in beer, or because of all the anxiety.

Like he was feeling your worry, Steve's hand landed softly on your wrist. Immediately, your shaking stopped as the warmth spread all around you.

“I was happy to see you decided to come,” he finally admitted. Your eyes were big as you didn’t think something like that would come out of Steve’s mouth.

“But it got you injured…” You couldn’t help a sob to break your voice and felt even guiltier when you noticed Steve's reaction. His eyes filled with a sadness you never wanted to see in his beautiful eyes.

“If it meant protecting you, then I would do it again.”

That had to be a dream. Why was an injured, beaten up Steve, so sweet to you? It was almost like he…

No. He couldn’t… Have a crush on you, right?

Your heart was still beating frantically, but this time, it wasn’t a bad thing. The organ in your chest was hoping, expecting, praying for this moment to be true.

“The invitation to this party,” you started, unsure if saying what you wanted to say would ruin the moment. Yes, you were still outside. Yes, there were people around, even though most of them were completely unaware of what was happening or interested. But you didn’t mind them. Not when your world seemed to turn inside out, your whole insides feeling like a merry go round never stopping. “It appeared in my favorite book in the library. Isn’t that weird, it was like someone knew I read it everyday during lunch.”

A smile so beautiful stretched his lips. Even if it was split, Steve didn’t seem to mind the pain in doing so. “Yeah. How weird? How could someone know you loved The Hobbit so much?”

This time, the smile reached your face.

“How did you know it was The Hobbit?”

A wink from his non injured eye. “Let’s go talk inside, you’re freezing.”

Even if he was the one injured, Steve helped you get up and led you inside. No one made another comment against you or him, people even got out of the way to let you two walk in. Even if he lost the fight against Tommy, Steve was still the king.

And you had a crush on him. He had a crush on you. How cool was that?

Forever taglist: @nitnat6245 @eevvvaa @wickedinspirations@fictional-affairs @awkward-and-indecisive @peachyaliien @katbratsupernaturalwhore

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sunflowerharrington · 8 months ago

Text

stwg prompt (27/4/23) - buzzed hair/shaved head

wc: 1076

🩵

Wayne hasn’t been feeling too confident in his looks, lately. Usually he doesn’t care, but when he looks at Eddie, he wishes he still had hair like that. Every so often in Hawkins a new person gets the “hair” nickname. Currently it’s Steve Harrington, Eddie’s friend — or more than a friend, Wayne’s not too sure — and it reminded him of when that used to happen in Tennessee too. When Wayne was in highschool, he was “the hair.”

He’s surprised he hasn’t died yet from the fumes of hairspray finally catching up to him, but the smoking will do that someday. All the products he used to use, all the times at school when the girls would come to him for hair techniques… All of that is gone now, and so is his hair.

A slight sob catches in his throat as he runs his fingers over what’s left of his hair. What’s left of his hair… Nothing much. It’s gray and white and barely there now. But he can’t let go of his highschool days. How the hell is he supposed to go back out into the dating scene without his long, luscious locs to help him?

He hasn’t dated since then, hasn’t had the courage or the confidence. Even when he still had his hair, he couldn’t bring himself to ask a girl out.

Some people can take up addictions to help with loss and grief, but if he were to tell anyone he’s a smoker because it helps him deal with the stress of losing his hair and not being “attractive” anymore, they’d laugh at him, make a joke out of it. There’s only so many jeers and snide comments he can take before he drives back home and cries himself to sleep.

He’s been doing that a lot lately, hoping his pillow muffles it enough so Eddie can’t hear. But Eddie can’t exactly hear anything outside of his room when he’s blasting that goddamn metal. Not that it’s bad or anything, Wayne likes it too, sometimes, but only when it’s not at an eardrum-shattering volume.

Today is the worst of it, the worst he’s felt in a long ass time about his looks. But there’s no point in buying a wig or trying to grow it out again because anyone who knows him already knows what he looks like without it. So there’s no point, and he won’t bother.

But maybe having hair might help him feel better about himself? No, it takes too long to grow out and he sure as hell knows nothing’s gonna grow on the top of his head anymore, maybe the sides, but that’ll look ridiculous.

So he doesn’t bother.

It’s only in the evening when he’s starting to feel a little better and has stopped crying. But not for long… because as he walks to the bathroom, the sound of a hair trimmer buzzes to life and someone’s laughing quietly to themselves in the bathroom.

Eddie.

It’s Eddie.

Half of his— what the fuck?

“What in the goddamn hell are you doing, son?” Wayne exclaims, watching as another few strands of Eddie’s hair fall into the sink. “Wha— Eddie! Put that damn thing down!”

Eddie does, in fact, not put that damn thing down and continues shaving. Strand after strand, his smile grows wider, and he looks at Wayne’s reflection in the mirror.

“Hair grows back,” Eddie says with a half smile. “I did it for you.”

“Why?” Wayne can't stop the tears from falling now, they gather in his lower eyelashes and drop down onto his cheeks.

“Because I want you to know that you’ve still got it. With or without hair. You’re a handsome man, and if anyone disagrees they’re obviously blind. You don’t need hair to be handsome and I don’t either.”

“You’re crazy,” Wayne says, laughing a little.

“On the contrary, I’m a genius,” Eddie says with another smile. “And I’m also doing this to help my friend, Jane. A bad man shaved her head and she hasn’t been feeling confident, says she looks ugly without hair. But she doesn’t. You look handsome without hair, she looks beautiful without hair, and Jim Hopper looks hotter than ever without hair.”

“Boy, don’t you dare tell me you’ve still got a thing for Jim.”

Eddie stays silent. Wayne frowns.

“What?” Eddie says, holding his hands up. “You gotta admit he’s hot.”

Wayne tuts. “He’s old enough to be your old man!”

“So?” Eddie smirks. “I’m legal, he’s legal…”

“He’s also married!”

Eddie gasps. “Jim and Joyce got married?! Why wasn’t I invited?!”

“I don’t think they’d want you jumping up on the tables at the reception, son,” Wayne replies, turning off the machine for him.

“I don’t— Oh… You’ve got a point.”

“I’ve got a point and no hair.”

“Me too!”

“No, I was right, you were wrong, son. I have the point.”

Eddie shrugs. “Alright, fine. You win. But he’s still ho—”

“No, not finishing this conversation,” Wayne interrupts, backing away out the door. “Be with someone your own age, like Harrington’s kid. I see the way you look at him and he looks at you—”

“And I’m not having that conversation,” Eddie replies.

Wayne snickers, starting to feel like himself again.

“No. Wayne, no. I don’t… I don’t like him like that! We’re just friends.”

“Mhm mhm.”

“Wayne!” Eddie whines. “Stop!”

“Son,” Wayne says, placing a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “Just try.”

“Okay fine, I’ll only do it if you ask Claudia on a date.”

“You want Dustin to be your brother, huh?” Wayne’s smiling again, so is Eddie.

“If I ever have an argument with Steve over who Dustin’s favorite is I wanna be able to say it’s obviously me ‘cause I’m his brother,” Eddie says. “But no, that’s not the only reason. You wanna find love, right? At least try. The worst she can say is no.”

“I’ve got better things to be doing than—”

“Remember the deal? You said—”

“Alright, fine!” Wayne throws his hands up. And he wonders where Eddie gets his dramatics from… “I’ll ask her on a date.”

Eddie fist pumps the air. “I love you!” He barrels Wayne into a hug.

Wayne smiles again, and finally, he feels like maybe he can still be handsome without his hair. He’s gonna remember this day for the rest of his life, maybe even add a part about it into his wedding speech if things with Claudia go well.

#stranger things #eddie munson #wayne munson #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #a litta bitta steddie and wayne x claudia

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be-steddie-myheart · 2 years ago

Note

steve helps eddie quit smoking (just tobacco cigarettes but the weed)

i wish i had a friend like steve to help me quit smoking lol

“You know those are horrible for you, Eds.” Steve said pointedly, watching as Eddie lit another cigarette.

“I’m aware Harrington, but they’re just so good.” Eddie flashed him a dazzling smile, and Steve tried not to think about why that had made his heart clench and beat faster. They were laying on the roof of Eddie’s newly gifted, government hush-hush trailer, staring at the stars. The moonlight shining on Eddies face made had Steve staring for longer than he knew he should. Probably something to explore later.

“Seriously, Eddie, you should quit. I can help you. I used to smoke but I realized it was just stinky and I could never breathe.”

“I wont go down without a fight, Steve. You can pry these cigarettes out of my cold dead hands.” Eddie laughed.

“Thats what your hands are gonna be if you dont quit.” Steve glared at Eddie. Eddie put his hands up in mock surrender.

“Okay okay. Do your worst.”

~~~~

“Don’t you think I know how bad this is?” Eddie stared at the three different pamphlets Steve had handed him a couple days after their conversation on the roof. “None of these facts are gonna scare me.”

“You haven’t even read the information, Ed.”

“Don’t have to, I’m aware of it sweetheart.” Steves stomach fluttered at the nickname and he could feel a blush creeping up onto his neck. Again, something to focus on later.

~~~~

Steve was so sure he had the perfect idea to get Eddie to quit this time. He had printed out pictures of what smokers lungs look like. No way Eddie would want to continue after seeing how awful these images are. He knocked on Eddies door. He could hear footsteps and then the doorknob rattling. The door opened and Steve had to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. Eddie stood before him with no shirt on, hair pulled back into a low bun and in a pair of old grey sweatpants that were hanging low on his hips. Steve could see the band of his boxers, and the trail of hair that started under his naval and traveled all the way down….

“What a sight for sore eyes, sweetheart. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Eddie asked, unaware of the effect he was having on Steve. Steve wasnt even sure what kind of effect it was, but he packed it away for later. His Eddie box was going to burst at the seams if he didnt examine it soon. Steve cleared his throat and shook his head.

“These are your lungs, Munson.” Steve handed over the pictures.

“How did you get these pictures of my lungs exactly, Harrington?” Eddie teased.

Steve felt the blush creeping up his neck again, “you know what i mean ass, this is what the smoking is doing to your lungs. See how black they are? Thats not healthy.”

“Its pretty metal. Blackened lungs? Good song name. Maybe I’ll start writing it and dedicate it to you.” Eddie laid his head against the doorframe and smiled at Steve. Steve packed more things away. Too many things.

“You’re impossible.” Steve rolled his eyes.

~~~~

Steve and Eddie were laying on his roof again, looking up at the stars when Eddie reached into his pocket and got his cigarettes and a lighter out. Steve snatched it out his hand before he could put it in his mouth.

“Give that back, Harrington.” Eddie honest to god giggled.

“No! These are not good for you, have a sucker instead.” Steve reached into his own pocket and pulled out a small sucker. “I have plenty of them, they should help in case you need something in your mouth or something to do with your hands.”

“Something in my mouth would probably help with the cravings.” Eddie winked at Steve. Alarm bells were going off in his head and he was packing, packing, packing more stuff away in his little box. Steves entire body felt hot. Almost on autopilot he gave Eddie both the cigarette and the sucker back. His voice was not working.

~~~~

“What if for every day you didnt smoke, you got a reward or something? Like, a dollar, or a guitar pick, or something?” Steve asked Eddie. They were sharing a joint on Steves bed.

“How come I can smoke weed but not cigarettes?” Eddie asked, ignoring Steve entirely.

“Well, cigarettes cause cancer. And weed is just, ya know, weed. Its not bad for you.” Steve supplied.

“Mm,” Eddie hummed in response, “a reward you said?”

“Yeah like something to look forward to so you dont get the urge to smoke. Whatever you want, I can do it for you if you try to quit smoking.”

“How about every day that I don’t smoke, you give me a nice little kiss for a job well done?” Eddie wiggled his eyebrows. Steves entire body froze.

“Uh, well.. wait, are you sure? serious? Um, that could.. I guess if you were serious about.. That would be a helpful reward.” Steve stumbled out and Eddie laughed.

“Relax big boy, you don’t have to kiss me. I was just teasing.”

Everything was quiet for a little bit. Steve and Eddie laying next to each other, passing a joint back and forth in silence. Steve’s Eddie box was threatening to burst open. Maybe now would be a good time to unpack. Theres no time like the present or whatever the fuck they say. Steve thought to himself.

“What, uh, Eddie, whats it like? Kissing a boy?” Steve didnt know if this was going to go good or bad. But he had opened the box and now there was no closing it.

“Well, my only kiss for a girl was when I was 12 years old and trying to make myself like girls so I dont have much experience there to compare. I’d think it would be pretty similar. Except you know, girls are probably smooth whereas boys can have stubbly cheeks. It can kind of tickle.” Eddie responded, seeming unsure of where this conversation was going.

“Yeah, girls have smooth cheeks.” Steve responded, leaving a feeling of uncertainty in the air.

“Stevie,” Eddie started out slowly, “Are you asking because you’re just curious for curiosity sake, or…”

Steve decided to just go for it, he surged forward and smashed his lips against Eddie’s, no thinking allowed, only actions. Eddies cheek was a little stubbly, and Steve liked it. Steves entire body lit up and he felt like he could fly, he didn’t know how long to keep his lips on Eddie’s but if he got a choice it would be never.

A small gasp of surprise came out of Eddie when their lips first touched but then his hand went to the base of Steves neck. After what seemed like forever, Steve pulled away.

“Sorry if you didnt want that, but you made the joke about kissing as a reward and honestly Eddie ive been wondering for a while now what it would be like to kiss you and I just didnt think I could wait any longer, and you know its probably because of the weed, you can go-“ Steve was rambling and Eddie cut him off with another kiss to the lips.

“I’ll never smoke another cigarette again if thats my reward.” Eddie said lowly, his voice smooth and pooling at the bottom of Steves stomach. Steve thinks maybe kissing a guy might be better than kissing a girl.

“If you stop smoking you can have all the kisses you want.”

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steddie ficlet #steve and eddie #stranger things

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strngr-thngs · 5 months ago

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One of my favourite plot errors in stranger things is that Steve Harrington smokes but it’s only mentioned once.

He smokes at his “house party” he throws in the first season and then it’s never mentioned it again all because the show received backlash after season two ended up having so many more scenes with smoking in them than that first. And that it was apparently influencing younger people to start smoking and was tempting ex-smokers to start again. So they canned that aspect of his character because he plays a teenager in the show.

#it was the fuckin 80s I’m sure everyone and their mom was smoking #like Netflix had to change thier regulations because of this show and it’s funny #like Netflix shows now can only include cigarettes it it helps prove historical or factual accuracy of the time period #steve harrington #steve harrington stranger things #stranger things #st1 #st2 #stranger things 1 #stranger things 2 #Netflix #netflix stranger things

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alwaysteveswife · 2 years ago

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Titanic | Steve Harrington x Fem! Reader (part 1)

Sorry, it took longer than I wanted to do this chapter, but I needed to redo the scenes where it was difficult to make the gender change fit in. Anyway, I'll try to upload more often 🥲.

(Short, I know, but it's five in the morning and I'm about to fall asleep listening to the Titanic soundtrack).

Words: 666

It had been more than three hours since the ship had sailed. Most of the passengers already had their belongings out of their suitcases, arranged in the trunks in the rooms or lying on the bed in complete disarray.

Robin and Y/N, like those many people, had stowed their few belongings in the small trunks given to the lower class.

The room was no big deal. It was small, so small that there was only a single berth, a nightstand and the trunk. Despite that, the girls couldn't have been more excited. Y/N had spent the last three hours going over how much money they had won in the bet, and Robin, on the other hand, had been pacing around the harried room, prattling on about how this was her dream come true.

"We have to go, Y/N, it's the welcome party, or boat, what difference does it make? it's a free party!" Robin insisted, sitting down on the floor next to her best friend and only confidant "it'll be fun, I promise."

Y/N let out a giggle so low that, if it weren't for Robin's incredible hearing, she wouldn't have even heard it. "Why don't you go by yourself? I don't feel like going out at this hour, it was too emotionally packed a day."

"I know, I know, but it'll only be ten minutes, after that you can come back here and rest" Robin pleaded, taking Y/N's hands and squeezing them gently "Please?".

She just rolled her eyes, causing a big smile to settle on Robin's face. She had won.

Y/N took a big breath of fresh air, letting out a big sigh and relaxing his muscles. Contrary to what she thought, the party had been very hectic. There were people dancing everywhere. The smell of alcohol and cigarettes flooded the room that could barely cope with all the people in it. Yes, it was suffocating, but it wasn't unpleasant to the point of vomiting either, or at least that's what Y/N tried to tell herself as she remembered the countless number of people she saw getting drunk until they passed out.

She stretched both arms above her head, walking across the deck of the ship slowly. It was quite late, so there weren't many people next to her, except for a few night workers watching from above.

She reached into her right pocket, pulling out a cigarette that, much to her regret -or so she tried to convince herself- she had been forced to steal.

She lit the fire as easily as an expert smoker could, perhaps she was. She sat on a bench near the ship's rail, taking a long puff of smoke and staring up at the night sky. It looked splendid.

She closed her eyes for a moment, barely a few seconds, seconds that were enough for quick, heavy footsteps to come towards her at full speed. When she opened her eyes there was no one in front of her. She looked both ways, stifling a gasp as she saw a smartly dressed man start to climb over the railing.

"Wait!" came from Y/N's lips, so loud and sure that even she couldn't believe she had said that. "Don't do it," she said, watching every move expectantly, slowly approaching.

And then, as if he was waiting for her to speak to him -or at least Y/N wanted to think so- the boy turned away.

The air caught in her throat as she saw him face to face. He was beautiful. There was a lot of wind, enough to ruffle his chocolate brown hair, his eyes looked dark but bright at the same time, they looked as if they were searching for a reason to live.

And Y/N set out to give it to him, even if it would only be temporary.

Masterlist

Tag: @kaverichauhan

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 2 years ago

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happy new year!

summary: December 31, 1984 turns into January 1, 1985

WC: 1.8K

warnings: my cheesy ass writing

A/N: ALL PARTS UNDER THE TAG -The Byers Harrington Story-

series masterlist

previous chapter next chapter

December 31, 1984

“You sure you don’t want to go to Cassie’s party?”

“One hundred percent sure, much rather ring in the new year with my girlfriend.”

Girlfriend

The first week after your first kiss, not even the first week actually, Steve started to call you his girlfriend the next day after your kiss. Steve stayed the night, Joyce shouting before heading to bed, “Steve sleeps on the couch!” And he did, not wanting to get on her bad side anytime soon. So the morning after the two of you snuck off to the backyard after breakfast, Steve asked you, “can I be your boyfriend?”

“I thought you were gonna ask me to be your girlfriend?”

“Yeah, but that’s been done to the end of the time. I’m asking to be your boyfriend 'cause that’s the highest privilege I can think of.”

His eyes twinkled as he focused on you.

“You’re a cheese ball.” A laugh slipped out.

“Only for you baby, only for my girlfriend,” and he leaned in for a kiss, one you took without an ounce of hesitation.

Now it was December thirty-first, New Year’s Eve. Almost two weeks since, and it still feels like a dream to you, one where you are so wrapped up in the story that you don’t even notice it’s fake. Ready to slip from your fingers, smoke fading away at the first touch. And honestly, if this was some sort of dream, you didn’t want to wake up.

But every day, for fourteen days, Steve constantly reassured you, “It’s not a dream. If it was, there would be many differences.” Kisses splayed over your chubby cheeks.

“Oh, like what?” Wanting to hear his answer, something cheeky by his tone.

He pulled back, enough for you to see the smirk, “in due time, sweetheart.”

Now getting back to the present, the present in which your house is extremely loud and slowly getting messy due to the kids having a bit of a sugar rush hitting them. Usually, the kids spend the new year at the Wheeler’s, but this year Mrs. Wheeler decided to host an adult-only party for her neighborhood, meaning the kids had to find a new location which Joyce graciously offered.

So all the middle schoolers, El, Nancy, and Steve included, became guests for the night. The Byers' house was alive with festive joy and carefree laughter. The news station was white noise on the TV and Times Square displayed the ball drop that would be happening in the next hour.

Everyone was doing their own things after the dinner and group activities were done, the kids drifting between Will’s room and the living room. Carrying an assortment of things, filled to the brim in their arms. Jonathan and Nancy drank something warm, hot chocolate, decaf coffee- whatever is held in the mug clasped between their hands. Warm smiles brighten their faces, shoulders shaking with laughs only the two of them could hear clearly.

You and Steve, outside in the backyard, both freezing your asses off ‘cause you wanted a quick smoke and Steve didn’t want to be away from you for even a second, but you couldn’t blame him. You’ve been trying to wane off the cigarettes, and you’ve slowly been doing good, but sometimes the urge hits too hard that you need just a quick few hits, needing to feel the burn in your lungs. Sometimes you and Steve share one, him being more of a social smoker whenever he’s around you, a simple shotgunning shared between your lips gets you tingling and you leave a quick peck to his pursed lips.

After your quick smoke break, the cigarette stubbed on the step beside your feet, your duo stayed outside for a little longer, wanting to enjoy the precise alone time before you had to endure the childish screams again. Cheeks going rosey, tips of noses being kissed by the biting wind, teeth chattering so loudly you’re worried they’ll fall out your mouth. But with Steve next to you, your personal furnace, it was more bearable with his hands holding yours up to his mouth, blowing warm air to keep your fingers from going blue.

“ ‘Should go inside,” you muttered to the winds, your voice carried to Steve’s ears.

He hummed, still breathing on your red knuckles, his fingers gliding over your icicle skin. You loved when it was just the two of you, inside your own bubble, hidden away from the rest of the world. And you wished you could take a snapshot of the scene, the both of you huddled close to each other, wearing thick coats but still shivering, little white snowflakes peppered into your hair. While you were enjoying the warmth of Steve, your ass had gonna numb ten minutes ago and you’re worried your toes might break from possible frostbite.

“Stevie, I’m really enjoying this moment, but- holy shit your lips are freezing!” You yelped when his mouth moved away from your hands and placed a kiss on your cheek.

Giggles were shared in the open space, another moment you wish could be bottled away.

Steve gave in to your whining, you knew he was also a bit cold after being outside for a while. The inside warmth and loud noises were a shock when you opened the back door. With only thirty minutes until the new year, the energy grew each minute. Everyone chats with one another, talking about their goals for the new year, a new campaign, or getting higher grades in school.

The two of you decided to stay in the kitchen for a little, more time to yourselves. You decided to make some hot chocolate as Jonathan did earlier. Your feet carry you through the space, every crack on the floor and chip on the counter is grained into your mind. The body moves on autopilot while doing the small task.

Steve watches from the sidelines, arms crossed and body relaxed. He watches how your body sways to a beat only you can hear, lips forming the words in breathy whispers. Head bobbing and weaving, hips twisting and twirling, it made his brain fuzzy with only you on the forefront.

So wrapped up in making the hot chocolate that the feel of arms wrapped snugly around your abdomen, made you jump just a bit. His hushed giggles at your reaction pull a smile to your lips even though the physical response you give him is a playful swat to his shoulder, giggles doubling.

“It’s not funny!”

“I know it’s not funny, I’m laughing 'cause how cute you are!”

You just rolled your eyes at the sentiment, turning back to the task at hand. Steve’s chin dug into your shoulder as he watched you stir the dark brown liquid. His fingers tapped against the fabric of your thick winter sweater. One hand slid under the edge of the cranberry wool, pinkie sitting just atop the band of your dark wash Levi’s.

“Watch the hands, Casanova.” A warning.

You heard the smirk before you even saw it, “yes, ma’am,” his hand moved back to its original spot.

With only five minutes left on the clock, there was a mix of energy going through the room. Most of the younger kids were getting excited, for two reasons you could guess. One was that they were up later than nine pm and the second was the new possibilities with the new year rolling in. Though you could tell Will and El were ready to fall asleep once midnight hit the clock, Lucas was just behind with his lids being pulled down, but fly open before he succumbed to the wonderful sleep.

Jonathan and Nancy sat beside each other on the couch that leaned against the wall while you and Steve settled into the mini lounge facing the TV. All the couples tried to keep any type of pda to a minimum when all together, knowing the younger kids would get annoyed very quickly. So Jonathan and Nancy sat close together, her back leaning into his chest with an arm thrown over her shoulder, her fingers absentmindedly bending and pulling the digits. You reclined in a similar position, cheek squished into Steve’s shoulder with your knees pulled into your chest. An arm resting along your shoulder, his fingers caressing your cheek or twirling a strand of styled hair.

“All right New York City! Oh! I’m sorry, this message is for everyone inside and outside New York City, are you ready for the new year?” Loud cheers and cries are heard from the TV and even your living room, the kids whooping and hollering.

“Now, it’s been an interesting year, hasn’t it folks?”

You huff, “you’re telling me,” you mumble. Steve, who was the only one to hear, squeezed your shoulder in comfort.

“Now with only a minute left on the clock for nineteen-ninety-four, grab a loved one, grab a drink, grab some dessert as we approach the countdown.” The host turned to the giant ball with the clock going down in numbers, thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight.

“Oh!” You jerk from Steve’s arm, all eyes on you out your random outburst, “why don’t we all think of a wish? Something we desperately want to happen in the new year.”

“That’s pretty much a goal.” Mike’s snarky tone interrupted.

“Okay, do I care? This is something just for you, one you don’t have to say aloud if you don’t want to.” You looked at everyone, but no one seemed to care, not with the countdown hitting twenty, nineteen, eighteen.

“Whatever, just thought it would be nice.” You slumped back into Steve.

You stared ahead at the screen, the countdown getting closer and closer to the new year. A tap to your chin called your attention away, head and eyes moved away from the static of the screen to the crystal-clear image of Steve taking you in.

“I’ll think of my wish while you think of yours, ‘kay?”

“Each second we are getting closer! Ten, nine…”

“Okay, but hurry, and don’t tell me if you want it to come true.”

You closed your eyes tight, thinking of multiple wishes to happen in the new year. A peaceful year, all the kids allowed to be carefree, Joyce’s pain lessening each day, you and Steve.

“Grab your loved one and count down with me! Five, four, three.”

You opened your eyes when you were done and prepared for the clock to hit twelve. Steve was already staring down at you, a delicate smile dancing on his lips. A hand returned to its natural spot on your cheek, pulling you in closer.

“Two, one! Happy New Year!”

“Happy New Year!” Everyone screamed in joy.

“Happy New Year,” Steve whispered before pulling you in, lips melting together in pure bliss on January first, nineteen-ninety-five.

‘Happy New Year, love of my life’

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