#steve harrrington x reader

[loveshotzz]

Is It New Years Yet?

steve harrington x fem!reader ✨Part One✨

Santa Tell Me

summary: When you meet Steve Harrington the first time it’s by accident, the second time a coincidence, and by the third he’s calling it fate.

wc: 8.1k

warnings: 18+ series, a christmas meet cute with steve who’s in his 30’s, smut in later chapters, drinking, smoking, eddie munson is our best friend/roommate, him and steve don’t know each other in this AU.

authors note: this wasn’t supposed to be this big or long but here we are. thank you for all your patience and sweet words, I’m so excited to share this with you.

series masterlist -> ✨ part two

The Marshall Fields feels alive with only three weeks left until Christmas, making it a next to impossible mission to get to your job in the restaurant that sits on top of the seven story tourist attraction. At least on time.

Bing Crosby’s ‘It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas’ spills from the speakers overhead, the deep baritone of his voice is barely audible over the low murmur of conversation happening all around you. Lush, large boughs of green pine hang pristine from the historically tall ceilings, shimmering tinsel draped with purpose at the ends of them catching in the light. It reflects off the gold ornaments that cover it in a perfect pattern. It’s almost enough for you to forget how annoyed you are.

Your slip resistant shoes catch and scuffle along the deep crimson carpet as you move through the shoulder to shoulder crowd. It doesn’t take you very long to find a break in it, still scratching at your nose that itches from your walk through the fragrance department. Your small victory is quickly diminished when you see a swarm of families standing in front of the golden doors of the elevators. 

You silently curse yourself for not leaving earlier, completely forgetting that Santa was on the fifth floor today. As if on queue, a little girl with perfect blonde curls that bounce as she runs smacks into your legs just like your realization, falling back on her butt with a thud. Her pearly white dress flutters around her, and the two of you stare each other down for what feels like an eternity until her mother rushes over with panicked apologies right as her daughter breaks out the waterworks. 

The noise makes you grimace, mumbling a ‘it’s fine’ under your breath before turning on your heel. Reaching behind, you pull your phone from your back pocket to see just how late you really are, accepting defeat with having to take the scenic, much more time consuming route up the escalators. The bold white numbers that flash across the screen tell you that you’re already five minutes past the start of your shift. A long sigh slips from between your lips as you give up on trying to rush. 

Moving with the flow of the crowd, the beginning jingle of Mariah Carey’s ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’ starts to play, and with the grand spectacle of the yearly decorations, it’s hard not to feel all the emotions of nostalgia they’re trying to pull from you, making you roll your eyes singing along with her under your breath.

The big water fountain in the middle of the men’s department comes into view from the tops of bobbing heads, one of the many physical markers in this building you’ve had to use so you don’t get lost in the retail maze they’ve created, letting you know that you’re close to your destination. Weaving through the sea of people, you try to gear up to break free from the human traffic jam, the signs pointing to the escalators in your sights. His panicked voice is what you hear first, an obvious friendliness still hidden underneath it despite the way it shakes every time you hear him say “excuse me?” 

Your eyes search for the owner, and when you find him, regret buries itself deep in your gut when they land on his face.

A perfect mess of dark chestnut hair, with tips that look like they were dipped in honey sits on top of his head. The hints of gold hidden inside shimmer under the lights, as it curls wildly behind his ears. It almost looks styled that way, that is until you see his big hand run through it twice in the span of a few seconds. Warm brown eyes squint as he turns in a full circle glancing between his phone and the signs the point to the city street exits on either side of him. The hoards of people surrounding him completely ignoring his existence as he looks around painfully lost. 

His nose is sharp, just like his jaw that’s dusted with the faint  hint of a five o’clock shadow. The two prominent moles that sit side by side on his cheek stick out on his unseasonably sun kissed skin that seems to glow against the dark maroon color of his sweater. It’s snug across a broad chest, just like the washed out black jeans that fit a light too well around his thighs. His chocolate colored peacoat looks tailored to fit his biceps, with shiny gold buttons that match the buckle on his russet leather loafers, and the chain that dangles from around his neck. 

You watch him try to ask a few friendly faces for help, only receiving a shrug and a half smile by the ones that actually acknowledge him. He mutters something that sounds sarcastic to himself as you get closer, his hands moving animatedly before he huffs pinching the bridge of his nose. 

Maybe it’s the Christmas decorations, or the Mariah Carey, or maybe it’s just the fact that you’d rather take pity on a handsome stranger than go to your job. Whatever reason it is, you decide to make the stupid mistake to help him.

“Hey,” you greet timidly, getting just close enough to smell the cedar and cinnamon that seems to cling to the expensive wool of his coat, ignoring the way your stomach flips because of course he smells good right?  

“Are you lost?” 

He doesn’t hear you over the internal battle going on inside his head, not even registering that someone is finally stopping to offer the help he’d just been pleading for, quietly grumbling, ‘you wanted to move to the city, now you can’t even find your way through a damn store’.

You clear your throat before it can get anymore awkward, alerting him of your presence while letting your curious gaze wander up his tall broad frame. Those squinted brown eyes look big now as they meet yours, and you can see green inside them that you couldn’t before and it sparkles brighter than the tinsel hanging from the boughs behind him. 

Yeah, you’ve made a huge mistake.

He blinks a few times, before a wide smile stretches across his face somehow making him even more handsome as he reveals a set of perfectly straight teeth. The smile pushes up his cheeks, and crinkles the skin around his eyes, and you watch all the aggravation from before melt off of his perfectly sculpted face and you wish you could go back those few minutes in time and abort the mission. This is no damsel in distress.

“Hi” is all that he says, peony’s painting his cheeks as he runs his hand through his thick hair again. It looks even softer up close.

“Hey,” you giggle, nerves taking over and you want to pinch yourself for it. “I just wanted to see if you needed some help, you look a little lost.” 

You try to seem indifferent when you catch the way his gaze roams quickly down your body, thankful you did laundry last night and had on your tight fitting work slacks today that showed off your curves. 

“So lost!” He groans, the blush on his cheeks deepening with the tips of his ears. “If I’m being completely honest with you, I don’t even know what floor I’m on.”

You try to hide the way you snort, slapping your palm over your mouth.

“Hey, be nice!” He laughs, trying his best to fight it to put on a hurt expression, “this is like my first time here, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” you try to fight off you smile, “I didn’t mean to laugh at you —“

“Steve,” interjects with a grin, those perfect teeth biting at his full bottom lip as he sticks out one of his hands for you to take, a gold band wrapped around his middle finger you didn’t notice before gleaming when it hits the light.

“Well, Steve,” you try not to laugh, which ends up being easy to do when you slip your hand into his and watch it disappear behind his long fingers when they wrap around them. “You’re on the first floor if you can believe it.

“That’s fucking embarrassing. Wow.” He groans, letting your hand go to run his palm down his face, and you hate that you feel the loss in your gut. “Sorry I didn’t mean to cuss.”

“I’ll let it slide this time,” You tease with a wink, enjoying the way it only makes the color on his face deepen. “Where are you trying to go? I work on the seventh floor. I might be able to take you on my way.”

It takes Steve a minute to formulate an answer to your offer, still stuck on the fact a complete stranger was being so nice to him, and the silence between you goes on just long enough to make you second guess everything.

“Or I could just try and give you directions if that’s more comfortable for you.” You offer, adjusting the straps of your backpack nervously.

“I’m trying to get to the women’s department,” Steve finally blurts out, sensing the shift in your energy and quickly tries to recover with another card through his hair and a crooked smile, “specifically the handbags, and I absolutely think you should take me.”

His gaze narrows the color in his eyes darkening into something more flirtatious than nervous. 

“Who knows how long it’d take me to get there without a beautiful, clearly smart woman such yourself to help me anyway.”

Your stomach does that thing that you hate again, and all the heat in your body licks at your cheeks like flames. You can’t remember the last time a man actually used the word beautiful. Hot? Absolutely. Cute? Sure. Pretty? Yeah, a few times, but never beautiful. It sits in your chest where it blossoms into another painfully big smile that pushes your cheeks up even more, and you have to look away from his face for a moment when he matches it with his own.

“O- okay, if you just, uh wanna follow me?”  Words get lost on your tongue and it comes out more shy than you would’ve liked, but you turn on your heel before you can think too hard about it when he gestures you forward.

You hear him mutter ‘are you kidding me?’ under his breath as you lead him to the escalators just around the corner, making him realize how close they were this whole time and you wonder just how long he was actually looking for them. The smell of mint hits your nose as you pass the Frango chocolate stand and it mixes with the spice of his cologne as he trails close behind. Butterflies threatening to break from cocoons hearing the way his steps match yours. 

He stops next to you as you come to halt to wait your turn to hop onto the moving metal steps. You look up at him and there’s an awkwardness that threatens to fill the small space between you that has you giving him a tight lipped smile that he returns with the kind of confidence that makes your palms sweat and you have to look away. 

“I say we make our move after white puffer coat comin’ up here.” His voice startles you when it comes out low, close enough to the shell of your ear that you swear you can feel the whisper of his lips. Spearmint stings your nose from the gum that snaps between his teeth, and the heat of his breath makes goosebumps jump along the back of your neck. 

Why did you do this?

You meet his gaze from the corner of your eye, letting him see the playful glint that dances in them before giving a curt nod of your head.

“On the count of three…” You play along, despite everything inside you telling you to stop flirting back and it makes Steve’s whole face light up, long fingers flexing at his side with the need to find yours again.

“One..” He starts, and your eyes meet ‘white puffer coat’ who’s now only a few steps away before finding Steve’s again who’s stare very obviously never left your face.

“Two..” You giggle trying to hide the way your body starts to buzz and if it wasn’t for Steve’s giddy expression you’d be more embarrassed than you actually are.

“Thre-“ His final count gets cut off by the feeling of your fingers wrapping around his, tugging him onto the stairs early with a loud cackle that has you throwing your head back and he swears the sound tilts his world off its axis.

His cheeks dust pink under the bright light looking down his nose at you with a wide smile that shows all his teeth. An expensive loafer sits wedged between your work shoes and the other on the step above, caging you against the side as you ride up to the next floor, and he’s close enough for you to see a smattering of more freckles that dot the bridge of his nose and the side of his neck, even one on the tip of his earlobe.

He’s still holding your hand.

Your fingers twist and flex at the realization, dropping from his hold and Steve clears his throat because of it. Adam’s apple bobbing as you land on the second floor, he shoves his hand in his pocket, standing a more appropriate distance from you as you get on the next set of stairs going up.

“So what’s on the seventh floor?” He asks, finally breaking the silence that crackles with something you aren’t prepared for today.

“Oh, um, The Walnut Room.” you know where the big Christmas tree is?” You answer with a small smile and it makes him snort, the noise making your eyes go big and the corners of your lips twist up more.

“I couldn’t find the escalators, you think I know where the big Christmas tree is? Don’t flatter me so much or I’ll think you’re flirting with me, honey.” Steve grins, the cool air of confidence from before coming back and you hate that it makes your cheeks burn even worse the second time around.

“Well,” you start unable to bring yourself to meet his gaze as the two of you make your way to the next set of escalators with nerves rattling in your chest as the new floor brings more people, and it makes it impossible for him to keep his distance this time, “now you know where it is.” 

“Is that an invitation?” He smirks looking down at you, teeth gleaming even whiter from this close and butterfly wings tickle at your rib cage.

“Getting a new purse for your girlfriend?” You ask in an attempt to dodge his obvious flirting, doing your best to ignore the way his fingers keep bumping into yours as you share the same step.

“Mom, actually. No girlfriend.” Your obvious prying makes something smug flash behind his eyes. “Is that the answer you were hoping for?” 

You huff with a roll of your eyes, unable to fight the way your cheeks push up again despite the shake of your head earning a deep chuckle from Steve who can see right through you.

“I actually just moved here, maybe a month ago,” he starts, your heart sinking a little at his reveal and your walls that had started to slowly retreat quickly go back up the few inches they dared to come down. “M parents, they’re….they’re tough to impress, and I’m just trying to find something nice for my Mom. Something that screams ‘Hey! Merry Christmas! I didn’t make a big mistake moving here!’ You know?”

You nod with the kind of laugh that makes his eyes sparkle at the noise.

“A purse absolutely says that, I think.” Your words drip with sarcasm as the two of you make your way onto the third floor, shoulders bumping as you turn towards the next set of moving stairs, both your feet landing on the same metal step again. 

“You know, I thought so too.” He beams, not missing a beat. “What about you? Got any fun plans with your boyfriend for Christmas?”

Before you have a chance to answer, an impatient woman choosing to walk the escalators in the kind of rush you should really be in knocks into Steve’s back with her shoulder, making him lose his balance and stumble into you. Large hands grab at your waist to steady himself, the warmth of his palms spreading through your body as it seeps through the thin material of your slacks. The steady beating in your heart stutters before your pulse kicks into overdrive when the mint on his breath fans against your neck for the second time as he mutters an apology finding his balance again. You bite at the inside of your cheek when he finally lets you go, straightening up to his full height again.

“Gotta love the holidays.” You laugh, letting out a shaky breath that threatens to give you away.

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year, or that’s what they say.” Steve sighs, running his fingers through his hair again. 

He somehow leaves it even messier than before, and you have to fight the urge to fix it for him, as the top of the fourth floor comes into view along with the end of your time with the man you only half way regret helping now.

“The answer to your question is no, by the way.” You finally speak up, a mischievous glint in your eye that matches your smile.

“No you don’t have any fun plans? Or No you don’t have a boyfriend?” He tries to clarify, with the kind of lopsided grin that has your knees wobbling under it.

You don’t have time to recover when the ground underneath you stops moving as you both hit the bright red carpet of the women’s department. The fast moving crowd and the fact that you’re pushing nearly twenty minutes late for work is the perfect escape you need to get yourself out of making the mistake of staying long enough for the charming new to the city bachelor to ask for your phone number. 

“Handbags are over there.” You point to the giant Michael Kors logo that shines gold against a hot pink wall behind him, and you seize the moment he turns to follow the direction of your finger to hop back onto the escalators without a word.

You laugh echoes and bubbles over the even happier sounds of the Christmas music when Steve turns around to find you already half way up to the fifth floor.

“Really?” He throws his hands up, watching as you climb higher.

“I’m late for work! I hope your mom likes her gift!” You wave with the kind of smile that he’s sure will haunt his dreams tonight, that makes the corners of his lips twitch despite himself. “It definitely screams you didn’t make a mistake! Nice meeting you Steve!”

It had been four days since your run in with Steve, and much to your dismay that disheveled head of hair didn’t want to leave your mind no matter how much you tried. His breath stealing smile, and freckled skin invaded every day dream and even found their way into the ones in your sleep. No matter how many times you tell yourself that a man who looks like that has endless opportunities in a city like this, and he’s not going to tie himself down with a waitress who still splits her rent with a roommate. 

A change of scenery and a day off spent alone at the Christmas market is almost enough to do the trick as you search for ornaments to put on the tree your roommate Eddie tried to stop you from getting, arguing that he’d have to be the one to take care of it if you got a real one. Which to be fair, ended up being true, but when you catch him reading Lord of the Rings under its twinkling lights, you don’t think he minds it all that much.   

A few ornaments, two hot ciders, and a record shop later, you find yourself waiting for the train home looking at the sunset that paints the skyline in sherbet orange and red behind shimmering buildings. Lost in the music that spills from your AirPods, flashing lights catch at the corners of your eye, and the sounds of the holiday train start to get louder as its bright presence rolls up to the platform. The Santa that you know has to be freezing waves at everyone that’s waiting as it pulls in, and you can’t stop the way your cheeks push up despite the annoyance you would have normally felt if you were actually commuting somewhere in a rush.

The workers dressed as elves greet you with baskets of candy cane’s and bright smiles when the doors open, and relief floods your system when you see the train car is mostly empty. You give them a friendly wave and a nod, accepting the sweet treat before claiming your seat for the nine stops you needed to pass to get home. Red and green string lights flash strung up from the ceilings, and the silver metal poles that stick through the middle now resemble the candy they're passing out. The white fluorescent lighting that usually washes everyone out is replaced with a deep blue, and the faint sounds of  Wham’s ‘Last Christmas’ battles for dominance with the music in your headphones.

Relaxing into your seat, you let the steady rocking of the train lull you back into your thoughts, disappointed when they inevitably go back to the man you’ve been trying to forget. Thighs pressing at the memory at the feeling of his hands grabbing at your hips on the escalator, you huff and cross your arms in a silent pout. How can you have a crush on someone you don’t even know? 

The car starts to fill up more and more as the stops go, and by the third one you’re squeezing your tote bag to your chest with people surrounding you as they hold onto the plastic handles above your head. It’s hard to see anything above anyone’s waist, and you shuffle a little awkwardly in your seat. The spot in front of you frees up by the next stop and at the same time your AirPods die, a sigh of relief slips past your lips at the brief reprieve before the group waiting outside scurries in. That’s when you hear him…again.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. First the damn bus, now the train? Jesus fuck- exuse me, god, I’m gonna be so late.”

The familiar smell of cedar and cinnamon envelopes your senses when a pair of black dress slacks fill your vision with a gold belt buckle on his waist that matches the chain you already know is dangling from his neck, and the ring on the hand that’s gripping the handle above you. 

You curse under your breath, taking your AirPods out and the muffled sound of Dean Martin’s ‘Let It Snow’ becomes full volume, along with the clinking of the metal tracks when the train lurches forward. Leaning back in your seat, you let your eyes wander up his broad torso you’ve reluctantly thought so much about. Steve’s a little more dressed up than the last time you saw him with a white button up tucked into his slacks. You can still make out the outline of his tank top underneath, despite the dim lighting, and the way he leaves the top two buttons undone flashes you a little bit of chest hair. The chocolate peacoat is replaced with a black one that has buttons to match. It fits around his arms just as good as the other one. 

His five o’clock shadow is gone now, and he somehow has even more freckles than before. Too distracted by him to scold yourself for having the urge to find and kiss them all, his messy bed head look he had the other day is replaced with something a little more controlled, and you wonder how much product he needed to use, especially that despite it all, a stray still threatens to fall across his forehead. 

“Not a fan of the holiday train are we?” 

Steve jumps at the sound of your voice, his eyes looking every direction but down until you clear your throat. They widen when they land on you just like the smile that spreads across his face, wiping away any signs of annoyance that plagued his features just seconds before.

“You!” He almost laughs, and he’s even more handsome than you remembered and you wonder how long it's going to take you recover this time, “Oh wow —“ even in the blue light you can see the way the color in his cheeks redden when he realizes that his crotch is unintentionally in your face, “let me just -“

He scoots back as far as he can which isn’t much but it’s enough to make the position the two of you find yourselves in less awkward.

“Well, well, well so we meet again.” He practically beams taking in your appearance now that you’re not dressed to go wait tables, catching the way he licks his lips before bringing his eyes back to yours. 

“It would appear so Steve.” Your smirk, proud of yourself for keeping up the act of playing hard to get.

“What do they call these things? Christmas Miracles?” His confident demeanor reappears and you’re disappointed that it sets your body on fire just like before.

Your snort loud enough for him to hear, earning you a deep chuckle from his chest that gets him that smile of yours he can’t stop thinking about.

“You think you’re so smooth don’t you?” You tease, biting at your bottom lip, meeting his eyes from under your lashes watching the way it makes the green and gold inside them turn into something darker.

“Not really, but I think it’s working for you.” He winks, closing the space he made between you to let someone off behind him holding your stare from down the slope of his nose.

You narrow your eyes at him before you roll them but the twitch of your lips gives you away making his grin turn Cheshire.

“Where are you off to this dressed up? Hot date?” You question with an arched brow.

“For someone who’s pretending not to have a crush on me, you’re certainly fixated on if I’m dating someone aren’t you?” Shaking his head, he’s even more smug than he was on the escalators, “but no, beautiful, I’m on my way to meet a business partner for dinner.”

There he goes using that word beautiful again.

“What about you? The missing uniform tells me it must be your day off, spend it with that boyfriend of yours?” Steve smirks trying to get the definitive answer you refused him a few days ago.

“You’re calling me fixated? I’m not the one obsessing over an imaginary boyfriend I made up for someone else.” 

Steve throws his head back in a booming laugh as a bright smile lights up his face in a way that rivals the train. 

“I bet you think you’re so funny don’t you?” He mimics your previous sentiment with an intensity in his gaze that has you squirming in your seat.

“Not really, but I think it’s working for you.” Biting your lip as you wink, his hold around the handle tightens, and the gold in his eyes darken more. “I’m surprised you’re heading out of the loop so dressed up, where’s this hot business date?”

Steve’s smile falters, and the color you’re so used to warming his face drains along with the intensity of his gaze.

“What do you mean out of the loop?” That panic you’d heard shaking his voice a few days ago returns, as he tears his eyes away from you to look at the map above your head. 

“Oh no, Steve.” You realize the mistake he’s made before he does.

“No, no, no, no,” he groans, stomping a shiny wingtip oxford on the dirty ground. “God, Richard, fuck - he’s going to be so pissed at me.”

He says the last part more to himself, regripping his hold on the handle, brows furrowing as he pinches his eyes shut in frustration. His chest heaves a few times, and the veins in his neck start to show before you hear his quiet exhale over the sounds of ‘Jingle Bell Rock’.

“Hey,” You start, and sweetness drips from your tone as you resist the urge to reach out and comfort him, “I’m getting off on the next stop, you can come with me if you want and I’ll help you get on the right train. It’s an easy mistake, really. We’ve all done it.”

He doesn’t open his eyes immediately, and you can tell that he’s trying not to completely break down but slowly they blink back open and meet yours. The teasing edge behind them is gone as they soften around the edges with exhaustion.

“I think I owe you my life at this point, honestly.” He huffs with a weak laugh and you know if his hair wasn’t done his hand would be running through it right now. 

“Just a little bit.” You tease pinching two fingers together with a scrunch of your nose.

“Thank you,” he holds your stare, sincerity painting his features with something that makes you want to stand up and hug him. 

“Anytime,” you shrug and it’s harder to fake being nonchalant when he looks at you like that. 

The train starts to slow down as it approaches your stop, and the people around you become restless as they prepare to push through the crowded car to get off. Your body reacts like muscle memory when it comes to a halt with another lurch, and you stand up without thinking about the little bit of space that separates you and the man you haven’t been able to stop thinking about all week. 

Your chest brushes against a hard set of abs before and even harder set of pecs, the cedar and sandalwood of his cologne is stronger than the last time it took over your senses like this. Fresh. The faint smell of his aftershave tickles your nose, and the heat of his breath warms against the berry chapstick on your lips. The realization of your mistake hits right as you lose your balance, and your body falls flush against his.

“Whoa, honey.” Steve chuckles, one of his big hands grabbing firmly on the soft curve of your hip to hold you in place, and you swear you can taste the spearmint of his gum against your tongue from his proximity.

Your hands reach out on instinct grabbing at his waist, making the muscles underneath flex from your touch and you can just faintly hear his sharp intake of breath because of it.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, I’m so sorry.” You bumble, instantly regretting looking up to meet his gaze. The smirk of his pink full lips has all your blood rushing to your cheeks as you quickly try to untangle yourself from him.

“You’re fine,” he laughs in your ear as you push past him, and it sends a shiver through your bones, especially when you can feel the heat of his body behind you as he follows.

The wind hits your face stepping onto the platform and the chill in the air feels good against your skin. People rush and zoom all around you as they try and make their next connection while you and Steve stand under the sign that flashes the next train times. In a loud roar, the holiday spectacle departs with jingling bells that ring off into the distance along with the whir of the crowd leaving you and Steve alone. You try to ignore the tension that bubbles under his stare against the back of your head, threatening to spill over any second as you pull out your phone.

“You live around here?” He’s the first one to break the silence stepping next to you, his gaze shifting curiously to your phone screen.

“Yeah, like three blocks away.” You answer absently, scrolling through the train lines too distracted by your search for the right directions to give him.

He hums quietly in response, pulling out his own phone from his coat pocket. His energy shifts from the panic on the train to something calmer, and you can’t quite put your finger on it. A nervousness still lingers in his shaky exhale that pushes through his nose, rocking back on his heels before shoving his phone in his pocket.

“What if we went out to dinner instead?” Steve blurts out, and his hand that’s been itching to run through his hair finally does, “I mean if you don’t have any plans right now.”

“Didn’t you say it was a work dinner Steve?” You laugh, finally daring to look up at your phone at him. Big mistake. 

The wind catches his hair, and that long dark honeyed strand falls against his forehead while his teeth gleam at you in a hopeful smile.

“I feel like I kind of already missed it,” he chuckles, “I’m supposed to be there now and if I read those directions on your phone correctly it said what? - 45 minutes to get there?”

You glance down and see the bold numbers that only seem to go up as the minutes pass and rush hour starts to kick in. 

“Besides, I owe you dinner for coming to my rescue twice in one week. I think the universe is really trying to get us to go get drinks if you ask me sweetheart.” 

You laugh a little nervous, rolling your eyes to try and hide how you aren’t immune to his charms but the glint that sparkles in his stare tells you that it’s not working.

“I mean, I guess it’s only fair. I don’t want to mess with fate and all.” You sigh, and it makes his whole face light up, “but if Richard fires you, that’s not my fault.”

“You have my word, if this dinner ruins the entire reason I moved out here. I will not blame you.” He raises his hand in the air like he’s swearing under oath.

“Steve!” You gasp, shoving his arm, and it has him throw his head back in a loud laugh that echoes through the empty platform.

“I’m kidding, that’s not going to happen. I don’t think.” He grins, earning another eye roll from you, but he’s too giddy to care.

You choose the cozy little Ramen spot on the corner called The Furious Spoon that’s only two blocks from the train station. It’s a close enough walk to easily brave the deep chill that follows with the setting sun and casual enough so that this doesn't feel like something you’re telling yourself it’s not. 

A date.

The warmth of the restaurant hits your frozen cheeks, thawing the parts of you that got bitten from the cold. Ainese hangs thick in the air, making your mouth water while the two of you make your way to the empty seats at the end of the long table that lines the side of the restaurant. You pretend not to feel his hand on the small of your back despite it burning a hole through your jacket as you push through the puffy coats that drape over the stools on either side of you.

Shrugging your layers off, both of you follow suit finding a home for them on the wide rectangular seats. Steve tuts at you when you go to pull your seat out waving your hand away.

“Seriously? No.” You half whisper yell, but the corners of your lips twist up and he decides it’s an empty objection pulling your seat out for you with a wave of his hand gesturing you to sit.

“My mom would kill me if I didn’t,” he swears but his smirk tells you not to believe a word he says as he puts both his hands on either side of your stool, spearmint hot on his breath against the shell of your ear. Cedar and clove on the fabrics of his clothes, it feels like he’s everywhere as he gives you two pushes in.

His knee bumps into yours as he takes the seat next to you, and another waft of his cologne hits your nose. Biting your lip, you decide to distract yourself with the menu as you actively try to make sure your leg doesn’t bounce with anxious energy. The restaurant is more crowded than you expected and Steve’s closer than you wanted. Your heart thumps wildly against your rib cage, scaring the butterflies that laid dormant for the few days in his absence right as they had started to stretch their wings. 

“This all looks so good,” he hums, eyes scanning over the menu before bringing his attention back to you, chestnut and gold shimmering in the low light as he looks down the slope of his nose, licking his full lips, “Do you have a favorite?”

You can’t stop your gaze from flicking down to his mouth, words threatening to get caught on the tip of your tongue watching the way the corners curl up into a grin, small dimples pushing into his tan skin when he catches you.

“Depends on what you like protein wise, but my go to is The Mother Clucker.” You manage to get out, trying to clear out the nerves out of your throat.

“Excuse me,” he snorts, “the what?”

Rolling your eyes, you tuck your bottom lip between your teeth as you lean over tapping a red polished nail to the chicken option on the top.

“Do you need glasses Steve?” You giggle watching him squint to read it.

The question makes him look at you out of the corner of his eyes with a narrow stare. 

“I’ve had perfect vision since high school. Thank you very much.” He scoffs holding the menu further away as if to help him focus on the small bold lettering. 

“Sure looks like it, my mistake.” Raising a hand in mock surrender, the gesture makes him knock his knee with yours earning him a giggle.

“Here I am skipping out on an important work dinner to spend my night showing you how grateful I am and you’re just bullying me.” Steve only manages to keep a straight face until you hit him with a soft smack on his shoulder, a full bellied laugh escaping him when whatever retort you’re ready to give gets cut off by your server finally coming to the table.

Steve’s charm flows from him with ease as he speaks to the young guy with a big septum ring and spiked hair. He talks to him like they’ve been lifelong friends when you place your orders and it reminds you how easily he got that same genuine smile from you just a few days ago at work, and again now as you sit next to him for dinner instead of writing him off like you told yourself you would. Your stomach twists in knots when his knee bumps against yours and stays there, the warmth of his body seeping through the fabric of his slacks and your jeans.

“So did you end up finding your Mom a gift that screams ‘I didn’t make a mistake’?” You question resting your cheek in the palm of your hand as you lean on the table with your elbow, you lift your chin up a little at him and it makes him flush.

“Oh yeah,” he laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck, “I-I didn’t actually, so that's great. I’ll probably just get her a nice set of earrings or something, it won’t matter in the end anyways.”

His eyebrows knit together and for the first time all night he purposely avoids your gaze with a sip of his water. Your eyes follow the movements of his throat as he swallows.

“What do you mean it won’t matter?” You press, curiosity getting the best of you watching his confidence slip.

“My parents aren’t exactly thrilled that I moved out here to help with this start up, instead of taking over their family business back home. It’s a long story, but it was a big argument, well - multiple big arguments when I told them I was leaving.” He sighs, and you can see the dread of their arrival start to hang over his head like storm clouds. “Besides we never really spent Christmas together my whole life anyway, they were always traveling for work, so this whole thing is just -“ He rubs at his temple, “a thing.”

He runs his fingers through his hair without abandon this time.

“Ahhh,” you hum as missing pieces of Steve’s puzzle are revealed and you hate yourself for finding him more attractive because of it. 

“What about you?” He nods his head in your direction, mimicking your stance resting his head in his hand, “What are you doing for Christmas?”

“Well,” you start, more nerves settling deep in your chest as you start to lay some of your cards down, “I don’t go home for the holidays cause I usually have work. But me and my family get along fine, I guess. But my roommate usually goes to visit his uncle so I’ll probably order something really expensive to eat and watch a Christmas movie I don’t hate.” 

You shrug trying to hide that sometimes it does get to you, not having a full house of loud laughter or even someone to spend the day with, but the look in Steve’s eyes makes you feel like he sees you. He gets it.

“Favorite Christmas movie?” He asks without missing a beat.

“Oh, easy, The Grinch.” you snort.

“Fitting for you.” he winks, despite the tips of his ears turning red when your shoe finds his under the table.

“Rude. What about you? huh?” Your lashes flutter as you bite your lip feeling him start to play footsie with you. 

“Jingle All The Way, Arnold’s my guy.” He smiles big at the giggle you give him, and it warms your face just like his hand that slides further down his thigh, dangerously close to yours.

The bubble you find yourselves in pops abruptly when the smell of your soup hits your nose. Two large bowls get set down in front of you, steam pouring off the tops so much it fogs the glass window.

“You would like Arnold,” you manage to whisper yell over your servers arm and it’s Steve’s turn to roll his eyes, ignoring you giving the waiter a pat on the back with a ‘thanks man.’

The rest of your dinner is filled with easy conversion and touches that linger more than they should, just like the secret paths heavy lidded gazes make to each other’s lips that aren’t so secret in the dim lighting with your feet still intertwined. You hate that as you learn more about him, the more you want to know. The questions come with follow up questions as he tells you about the life that he left behind, his best friend Robin who he hasn’t spent more than six hours without for the last five years and how it feels like he’s missing a limb. 

It feels mutual as both of you sit there long after your bowls are empty, snow falling from a now completely dark sky as Steve listens to you tell a story from high school like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever heard. Just like the stories about you and Eddie before that, or the one about how you lost your I.D on a crazy night out. All of them felt like he was hanging on every word, and having his full attention like this made your stomach flip. The buzzing of your phone is what ends the night when your eyes catch how late it really is.

“Oh my god, is it really almost nine?” You gasp, but Steve seems unfazed, just like the tip of his shoe running up your calf.

“I’m actually surprised they didn’t kick us out,” he smirks, chuckling to himself before straightening his back. Deep crimson filling his cheeks when you both can hear the loud pop.

You’d tease him but you were too busy already missing his touch. God. Dammit.

“I should really get going, I didn’t realize we’ve been here for like three hours. I gotta be at work super early for this breakfast with Santa we’re doing,”  You huff, standing up and the change in energy is almost enough to make Steve’s head spin.

“You live like a block away, I think you’ll get home fairly quickly.” He looks at you confused as he stands up, watching you stuff your arms in your coat with a struggle with tangled sleeves.

“I just, I promised Eddie I’d be home at a certain time and he gets all worried when I’m not,” It’s a lie but you aren’t going to tell him that your panic is from the fear that spending this much time with him has now pushed you past the point of no return. 

He’s never going to leave your mind now.

“Let me walk you,” He insists, slipping on his coat with ease, broad shoulders filling it perfectly.

“I think you should worry about getting yourself home,” you tease, buttoning your coat that you won the fight with.

“Yeah, I can’t chance it, not without my good luck charm,” he winks and your knees wobble, “I’m calling an Uber. Can’t get lost that way.” 

“Let’s hope so,” you smirk, bumping shoulders with him despite yourself as you walk past.

“Hey! I thought we were friends now.” He whines following close behind, both of you giving a small wave to your server on the way out.

The cold air hits you the moment the swinging glass door opens, sending a shiver up your spine, tugging your coat closer, you silently curse the hint of cedar you catch on the fabric.

“Are we friends now?” You arch a brown turning on your heel to face him as you both hit the sidewalk.

“I was hoping,” he gives you that smile, the kind that you know always gets him what he wants, and god do you want to give it to him. But the gold shimmering on his belt and the reminder that he just moved here makes you stubborn and weary. “Maybe if you give me your number, we can do this again sometime and find out?”

“How about this,” you suck at the inside of your cheek loudly, and you almost feel bad when you see how his face drops, “If we run into each other again, you can have my number.”

Steve stares at you for a second, disbelief painting over all of his pretty features, but he’s quick to recover with a hand through his hair and a new poker face.

“Deal.” He sticks his hand out and now it’s you who has to take a minute to recover, “What? I accept.”

You narrow your eyes at him before you place your palm into his, that charming smile outshining the white snow that falls onto his long lashes. He purposely holds it longer than he should, the butterflies in your stomach coming to life when the warm pad of his thumb starts to rub small circles into your soft skin. 

“Till the next time beautiful, who knows, maybe I won’t take an Uber home. Take a gamble. I wonder who could possibly show up to rescue me.” He starts, earning another shoulder slap and a gasped ‘Steve!’

“Do not do that, Uber home you maniac.” You pull your hand away no matter how much you don’t want to, especially when he trails the tips of his fingers down your palm as he lets go.

“You win this time,” He grins pulling out his phone, and you watch him click the app before you start to walk towards the direction of home.

“I win every time, Steve.” You wink, taking a mental picture of the way it makes him bite his lip before you turn away hoping you didn’t just make some huge mistake.

Secretly hoping Steve Harrington gets lost again.

[vanillann]

1989: A STEVE HARRINGTON X F!READER STORY

PROLOGUE: WELCOME TO NEW YORK

a/n: welcome to my new series inspired my by taylor swifts 1989 album! i’m so excited about this. i promise all the other chapters will be much longer i just needed the prologue as a little fast precursor. that chapter is 1.1k of simp!steve.

1989 MASTERLIST

S. HARRINGTON MASTERLIST

Steve Harrington woke up with a startling realization that he royally fucked up five years and three days ago. There was no moment that he could place that would explain this sudden realization; yet suddenly his head throbbed with regret and his bed missed her body.

He went throughout the day with this dread of anguish that, oddly enough, felt a lot like her painted nails scraping across his shoulders and sounded like her haunting giggles. He smiled when appropriate and held the door for the older lady at the grocery store, but all he could think about was what she was doing.

Was she happy in New York? Did she graduate from NYU? Who was he kidding, of course she did.

“You good?” Eddie sat on the kitchen counter, his heavy duty work booths swinging as Robin washed some vegetables in their shared sink beside him. Eddie reached over to eat one of the tomatoes from the bowl, which resulted in a loud slap across his forearm.

“I’m cool,” Steve cringed at his own lie, “just thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” Robin pushed lightly, trying not to let her curiosity get the better of her; but she was only human.

“Old stuff.”

“Like geriatric porn old or the milk in the back of the fridge old?” Eddie went for another tomato and got another slap from Robin, this time a small wince fell from his lips.

“Like I miss her old stuff?”

Silence coated the room like fog, weighting on the other's chest as Steve slumped into the chair and let his shoulders shrug for the first time since he emerged from his warm bed this morning before work as if his life hadn’t flipped on its head overnight.

“Who? Nancy?” Robin finally turned the sink off and turned to face Steve in the living room.

“Nope,” Steve popped the ‘p’ with a defeated glance at his two roommates with a dejected frown, “Why did I let her go to New York?”

The truth hung in the air like Christmas lights tangled in a box in the attic. Nobody could be prepared for this day, the day Steve knew he was this giant fuck up. Nobody could untangle the cold hard truth that Steve did this to himself.

“What made you think of,” a pregnant pause, “her?”

“Don’t know, but I can’t stop.” Robin and Eddie didn’t know Steve during that era, where he was sleeping with his neighbor when he wasn’t dating Nancy and had slowly built this weird dynamic that he craved when she wasn't around. When he begged for a glance in the hallway to prove they were real, that they knew each other better than anyone else in Hawkins and they could point out the others birthmarks in a dark room. Neither of them knew the man she made Steve, yet they knew of her well enough. They knew not to speak her name, they knew Steve could drive down Eloise Street without his lung taking a shrap intake, that he had to buy new sheets just so they hadn’t been the same her bare body once laid in. He still hasn’t bought light blue, his favorite color, sheets since.

They knew what happened that day in early June and how Steve cried to his mother after it happened, how she patted his shoulder and wander away from his bedroom without a glance over her shoulder. How he wished it was her he was crying on about something, not crying about needing her. They knew that the pair haven’t spoken since and Steve is careful when telling stories from high school as to not bring up her name. They knew her even if she didn’t know them, which showed how deep this pain ran in Steve’s viens.

“Have you tried reaching out?” Eddie asked with only hope he could hold between his sliver ring cladded fingers.

“As soon as she hears my voice she’d hang up,” Steve shrugged, toeing at the carpet without a glance at his closest friends, praying the floor would open up and swallow him whole. “I’m going on a walk, and will be back for dinner.”

He was sprinting from the three by three apartment without a glance back at the pitiful looks for the two. He couldn’t handle the gentle voice from Eddie that he never took and how little Robin pushed with she never did.

As Steve wandered the streets of the little town of Hawkins that held the memories of her on every corner, he felt his bones ache in the same way his grandfather's did when a thunderstorm was coming. As if his body could sense her in the oxygen he breathed and the carbon dioxide he produced. Like his body has an instinct for her alone that made him lose feeling in his knees all together. She was in his bones, on his skin, and in his heart for good.

“Shit, sorry!” Steve barreled into a shorter woman taking a corner while staring longingly for a ghost of a girl.

“No, no you’re fine!” He would know that frantic voice anywhere.

“Ms. Byers,” Steve's voice cracked like a boy hitting puberty, which matched his dramatic hormonal feelings about a girl who didn’t want him anymore after he acted like an asshole.

“How many times do I have to tell you, It’s Joyce,” her gentle brown eyes stared up still with kindness only a mother could hold.

“Right, right,” Steve gave a weak smile.

“Are you feeling okay? You look a little pale.”

Steve couldn’t explain why he dropped to the corner, sitting on the sidewalk with his legs stretched out in the road. Maybe it was the fact Joyce looked so worried for him and he didn’t want her to think he was deathly sick, or maybe the fact that he never had a mother to worried about her son’s heartbreak like she did, or maybe he was simply that consumed by his own feelings, but he said it. The words he coukdn’t say for years. Five years and three days exactly.

“Do you remember (Y/N)? She was my neighbor. She babysat for the Sinclair’s for a few years, I think.” Steve knew for a fact she did. He knew her.

“Yeah?” Joyce collapsed beside Steve, a worried glance sparred at the boy.

“I really, and parton my French, fucking miss her.”

An eerie silence filled Hawkins, as if the town missed her too the way Steve did. Although for Steve, he supposed miss was too light of a word to describe her. He craved her with his whole body, begged to just be near her, it was pathetic loving her in his way. Needing her was essential to who he was. She was him in every way, even if he wasn’t her.

“Then get her.”

Three words, muttered indirectly by everyone around him, but Joyce has spoken gospel to him at that moment.

“What just go to New York and get her back?” Steve scoffed.

“Well,” Joyce shrugged, “Yeah”.

“How exactly would I find her? New York is like a billion people big.”

“Can I be honest?” Joyce cringed as she tapped her feet in the empty street, neither worried about a car coming down the desolate downtown Hawkins.

“Yeah, nobody else is.”

Dramatic, as always.

“Will’s old tutor, Taylor, moved to New York with her and they’ve been roommates since they moved to the city. I always send Christmas cards to her since she was so kind to my boy, I could give you their address.”

A yellow brick road, a door opened, a compass was presented.

He could get the girl, no, he would get the girl.

“Do you by any chance know how to get a plane ticket?”

[kookygranger]

The storyline for this series is wrapped up, but if anyone wants to send in asks, prompts, etc. for these two lovebirds please do!

They’re still on my mind and I’d love to do some blurbs ✨

Is This Desire?

Firefighter!Steve Harrington x Witch!Reader Summary: When Steve Harrington was twelve years old he spotted a girl in the window of old Ravenwood's house. As his friends ran from fear spurred by campfire stories, he captured your heart with a wave and a smile. Now he was all grown up, and lavender was blooming at the house at the end of Maple Street after the passing of the town's Boo Radley. Rumour has it his niece is in love with a local firefighter, but the rumours that run deeper speak of witchcraft and love spells. All Steve Harrington knows is that you're a miracle, why would anyone choose normal over that?

Is this desire Enough, enough To lift us higher To lift above?

Masterlist

Chapter One: When Under Ether Chapter Two: One Line Chapter Three: Sweetness in his golden hair Chapter Four: Rub 'Til It Bleeds Chapter Five: To Lift Above

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, secondary character death, witchcraft, reader is a town outcast, bullying, angst, soulmates

[i-heart-slashers]

hi!! can i please request yandere! steve harrington with prompts "my perfect little doll is what you are.”

+ "you look so pretty tied up like this"? thank you so much! your writing is exquisite 💋

Hi! Thank you for reading and requesting. Sorry it took so long but I hope you like it!

"my perfect little doll is what you are.” + "you look so pretty tied up like this"

Pairings: Yandere!Steve Harrington x GN!Reader

Warning(s): yandere, stalker, violence, death, obsession, blood mentioned, abduction.

He'd seen you. He'd fallen for you, and now he wanted you.

You think to yourself that you should have seen this coming, but honestly, there were no signs that Steve Harrington, or King Steve, as you remember him before his downfall, was anything other than a good guy.

He waved to you in the halls and helped you if you were doing something outside of school. Once, he even helped your mom into the house with groceries.

Maybe that's how he got a key to the house.

All those times that he'd randomly popped up out of nowhere didn't seem so innocent now. The amount of times you'd go home to find him helping out one of your parents with some chore they just happened to need help with.

Groceries, lawn mowing, cleaning the pool out… He was always there and somehow always knew that they needed a helping hand.

It was that first moment of his helpfulness that your parents were taken by his charm and nudged you with a wink as they nodded in his direction, clearly thinking about some kind of relationship setup.

You, however, didn't reciprocate the same admiration for Steve. His fall from King was swift and brutal, but you still remember how he had been—a jerk and a cruel one.

Nevertheless, you gave him the benefit of the doubt, knowing people could change. Steve had changed; he took in the younger kids and made a best friend in Robin. They were a group of social outcasts compared to the one pristine pedestal Steve had been used to.

Maybe it was the polite smiles you had given him or the way you allowed him to linger after he had struck up a conversation. You had a feeling Steve had gotten the wrong idea.

Waving it off in lieu of hanging out with your friends, you could help but notice something niggled at you whenever you caught him glancing in your direction.

You should have listened to your gut instinct.

"my perfect little doll is what you are," Steve whispers in your ear as he adjusts the clothing that he had forced you to change into in front of him shortly after entering your home.

All you could do was sob behind the tape over your mouth, knowing that just a floor under your bedroom, your parents were taking their last breaths from the brutal onslaught Steve had inflicted on them.

His good neighborly act ensured they never saw it coming; he even whistled as he attacked them. Seeing him walk back into your room with a calm smile while covered in blood was something you never thought you would witness.

"you look so pretty tied up like this," He whispered, kissing your cheek as he tugged on the rope that bound your arms and legs before he picked you up and forced you out of your home.

He'd stalked you. He loves you, and now… he has you.

[fandoms-are-daddy]

Can someone help me find this fic I read a while back. It’s kind of a Eddie x reader x Steve thing going on where innocent reader was helping Eddie get off and got off herself with his help because as he put it that is what friends are for. And so one time while reader is with Steve he can tell something is up with them because they are incredibly horny and Steve is all like “I’m one of your best friends let me help” and then reader just goes to town and Steve is all like wtf who taught you this was ok

[steebharringt0n]

william-hargroves —> steebharringt0n

Hi everyone! It’s been so long but I’m happy to say that I’m back on my ST bullshit again :)

I’m on a HARD Steve Harrington kick (as per my new name change) so I have a couple of stories brewing in my head. I’ll MAYBE one day come back to Billy but as for right now I’m writing for Steve :) here’s a WIP!

knocked up

(based off the song by lykke li & kings of leon)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: two pink lines and a town in ruins - steve harrington knew that hawkins wasn’t a safe place for you. he’s on a mission to find a place that is.

[kookygranger]

*slaps hand down on table* the YEARNING

Urgh I love him so much. I love you!

Button down green shirt, tiki torches, chest hair, Thin Lizzy - stop!

I love that he’s already thinking about us wrapping our arms around him in the morning. Same.

Ring of Fire

a biker!Steve au

Part 3: The Runaway

Masterlist

18+Only, adult themes, mention of an abusive relationship, mention of cheating (not on reader), mention of violence, alcohol consumption, yearning, reader uses she/they pronouns, it's the late 90's, but also time doesn't really exist in Hawkeye. Platonic Stobin Forever, biker!Hopper, and biker!Eddie. Reader has very specific skills and backstory that verges on OC.

Word Count: 5.4k Playlist

A/N: I was going to call this a very self-indulgent chapter, but they all are, lmao. This is my love letter to biker Steve and my yearning to go to one of Hopper's barbecues with the rest of the gang. There will be a future wlw relationship for Robin with a woman worthy of her love, and we'll see more of Wayne in the next part. Trying to decide if I should give biker Eddie someone too, but for now, we have this. I love those of you who have decided to join me in this world, truly. Also, the playlist is a work in progress, and if you stumble upon a song that makes you think of biker Steve, or this story in general, please let me know!

-----

Groaning as he rolled over in bed to face the green numbers on his digital alarm clock, Steve felt a strange satisfaction at the fact that he hadn't tossed and turned all night.  Thumbing sleep from his eyes, he felt around the nightstand, and cursed under his breath to note that it was barely daybreak, and he was out of smokes. He knew the gas station would be open, and then immediately wondered if you would be there.

He tried to blink the thought away, desperate not to make thinking about you first thing in the morning a habit.  Habits like that were hard for him to break once things inevitably went to shit.

On his back, he stared at the ceiling, recalling bits of a dream that were still floating behind his eyes.  The images of the family he kept having were so vivid, he expected to roll over and hold the woman next to him and call her his wife, but that side of the bed had not been warm in years. He’d never had the urge to marry, and he certainly didn’t have any children.  But when he slept? It was as if he lived a double life. Tears built on his lash line at the memory of one of the young girls holding his leg and calling him daddy, it made him shoot up into a sitting position with a jolt.  

“Shake it off, Harrington,” he mumbled to himself.  

Hissing at a sudden sharp pain in his knee, he made his way to the kitchen in his polka dot boxers, scratching his head with a yawn.  Robin had been staying with him for a few months after her breakup, and it was the happiest he’d been in a while. There used to be dishes piled up in the sink, but now there was nothing but a single Chinese takeout container on the kitchen table and a pot on the stove with Velveeta cheese caked to the insides.  

He’d thought about getting a smaller place or another roommate, but the rent Eddie was charging him was dirt cheap, and he’d surprised himself with how much he liked taking care of the yard and the domesticity of it all.  He only wished he had someone to share it with.

The first thing he did was turn on the tiny 6-inch, countertop television near the toaster so that there could be some noise; the early morning silence was deafening, it made him uneasy.  The only thing showing on all four channels was the news, announcing more rain over the weekend.  One newscaster was talking about a rash of women disappearing around Hawkeye, but the murmuring was low, and he was busy searching around for the sustenance he needed to start his day.   

He used the French press that was already there when he moved in to make coffee, and when he opened the fridge to get the milk, there was your dish of lasagna.  Clear blue Pyrex dish staring him in the face, just one more reminder. 

It made him feel warm for a second, as if you were also in the house somewhere.  Like maybe you’d come around the corner and slip your arms around him from behind.  

He pulled back the tin foil cover to be reminded that there was only a slice left in the corner since he’d been eating it for practically every meal the past three days.  

He hadn’t set eyes on you in just as long, since the protection run with the Kings got pushed back a day and he had to cancel on his plans to pick you up and go for a ride.  

It was all for the best, really.  He wondered if it was too soon to show you what he had in mind.

But he promised he’d return the dish to you, and he needed cigarettes.

Was there a way to ask for your schedule without sounding like a stalker?

Eh, probably not.

The wall phone rang and he scratched his balls through his boxers on his way over to answer it.  He’d shaved down there just to see what it would look like, but the new growth itched like a motherfucker.  Even though it did make his dick look bigger, he’d decided to never get a sharp object so close to his sack ever again.  Unless, maybe, you were into that sort of thing.  

“Yeah? This ‘s Steve.”

It was Robin letting him know that she’d broken up with her live-in girlfriend yet again, and needed him to come and pick her up.

“You never should’ve gone and done that again, I told you,” he ran a rough hand down his face.

“I don’t need that from you right now,” she sniffed, speaking in a strained whisper.  Her voice was raspy, and she hiccupped to hold back a sob.  

This was the second time she’d tried to make things work with the newest one, Nicole or Nikelle or some shit.  They’d decided to move in together a week after they met, and the last few months had been emotional turmoil.  She hated her, she loved her, and then she hated her again.

Steve hoped that this time it stuck so that he could have his roommate back.  He got busy doing the dishes and cleaning up, whistling while he worked. 

“I’ll pull your sheets out of the closet,” he told her. “Be there to pick you up in twenty minutes.”

—---

“Your precious Steve is here,” Nic spat, pushing the curtain back to eye the truck pulling up to the curb.  “I suppose you told him this was all my fault?”

“I haven’t told him anything,” Robin sighed, frowning into her bag, shoving her last few belongings in.  “But I’m not the one who cheated again, am I?”

She swallowed, aching to explode, but not wanting to give her newly appointed ex the satisfaction of another tear or argument.

“Hey,” Nic took hold of her elbow, pinning her with an earnest look.  Her complexion was olive, her thick black hair buzzed short, and the bright green of her irises had a long track record of melting Robin into submission.  “You can’t hold that against me, you know I can’t help it.”

Robin scoffed, jerking out of her grasp .  “You know, I can’t believe I fell for that a second time.”

Steve was halfway up the sidewalk when Robin shuffled out of the door wearing a backpack, and carrying too big duffle bags that had clothes spilling out of the open zippers.  

“Get me out of here, “ she groaned, letting him take one of the bags from her to help.  

He caught Nic’s stare through the kitchen window and she flipped him off.  He mirrored the gesture with a wide, fake grin, hoping he’d never have to see her face again.  

Robin slid the blue Pyrex dish over while she scooted in to throw her stuff behind the seat in the extended cab.

“What’s this?” 

Steve got behind the wheel and gave a curious grunt as if he wasn’t sure.  “That’s, um, you remember when she brought the lasagna.”

Robin’s tired, puffy eyes lit up for a second.  “Interesting. You finally going to ask her out when you give it back?”

“Was thinking about it,” he put it in gear and peeled away, tires spitting gravel and dust.  He pushed the sleeves of his flannel up.  “There’s that party at Hopper’s place tonight.”

Robin sat ridgid, but her shoulders started to relax the further they got down the road. She rolled her eyes. “You’re going to invite her to a biker party as a first date? I’m sure you could do better.  What about that Italian place?”

He agreed with the sentiment, but to be completely honest, he was nervous as shit to be alone with you.  He didn’t get that way with everyone, but his heart fell out his ass with nerves every time he imagined what he’d say when he had you all to himself.  

“I guess it’s not a bad idea,” she shrugged.  “Casual, no pressure.  Better than getting stuck on an awkward, uptight dinner date.”

“I really want to take her to the old Danvers place.”

Robin twisted in her seat to stare at his profile.  “You sure she could handle that?”

“Dunno,” he got on the ramp to the freeway, rolling down his window as he went.  “But I think she’s got secrets too.”

—-----

You stood behind the worn, yellowed countertop at work that morning selling smokes and gatorade and snacks for weary workers and travelers.  A woman brought a batch of fresh sandwiches wrapped in cellophane and chocolate chip cookies every day, and they always sold out fast, so you set a turkey on wheat aside for later.  

Earlier, you’d stood at the sink in your apartment with a razor in your hand, considering shaving all of the hair off of your head.  Once the moment passed, you just stared at the blade for a long while, turning it over in your hand, wondering about its other uses.

A group of teenagers on their high school lunch break came through buying chips and beef jerky and soda to the tune of The Plimsouls singing A Million Miles Away, and while you were busy counting the loose change they paid with, you didn’t look up when the bell over the door chimed.  

You were just closing the register after the last kid when your pyrex slid into view.

He thought about leaving it further down on the counter with a note for you to find later, but then he told himself to not act like a fourteen year old.  Would you like to go on a date with me? Please check yes or no.

He had his wayfarer sunglasses on, showcasing the simplicity of a white Hanes tee, fresh pack of cigarettes rolled up in his sleeve like an old-time greaser, and worn jeans with a hole in one knee. The rolled up sleeve revealed more of the tattoo on his bicep; it looked like traditional Sailor Jerry ink, but you couldn’t tell what.  He worked a piece of pink gum in his mouth, grinding it in his front teeth, but he didn’t say anything, he just moved the dish closer.

“Is this a robbery?” You adjusted your shirt, wondering if you looked okay.  

He cocked an eyebrow high and held it there.  “That’s right, put all the money in the dish and no one will get hurt.”

You gave a soft snort, tucking your chin to stifle a grin.

Pushing his sunglasses up into his hair to show that he had a clear sunburn line on his cheeks, he checked around the room as if it were illegal for the two of you to be talking.  Scratching his chest with the LOVE hand you noticed the motor oil stained in the creases of his knuckles.

“So, um, if you’re free tonight and you get bored or something, there’s a party, at a place out near the lake,” he paused, trying to gauge the blank expression on your face.  “I know the guy, he’s a friend of mine. Hopper, from the other night at the Blue Light.  There will be plenty of booze, he’s got a pool.  Burgers and shit.  Just a few friends but I dunno, it might be fun.”

He closed his eyes for a beat, worried he was talking way too fast.  He cupped his hands on the edge of the counter, exposing the muscles and veins on the underside of his forearms.  “Unless you have plans or something.  Thought I’d invite you cause you’re new in town and all, but if you’re busy, I get it.”

“I’m not busy,” you were quick to respond the second he gave you the chance. After he had to cancel the last time he wanted to take you somewhere, you wondered if he would ever try again.  A grandfatherly gentleman came through the door and you greeted him while he shuffled over to the coffee station.

 “Are you going?”

He made a fist and pounded the side of it lightly on the counter a few times.  “Yeah, I was thinking about stopping by to check it out.  If you want, you know, I could pick you up or something.”

Steve moved aside so that you could take the money for the older customer’s big styrofoam cup of cream and sugar coffee.

You put the quarters in the cash register with a metal clatter as you spoke.  “I think I might take my own car,” your eyes flicked to him and then down again.  “You know, just in case I hate it.”

“No, that's smart. I’lll take my own vehicle too, and then we can, you know, meet there.”

He heard how stupid the words were when they left his mouth, but it was too late.  He took the pack of reds out of his sleeve and squashed it open to pluck out a smoke to put between his lips.  

He didn’t light it, but he kept it pinned there, bobbing as he spoke. “You got a piece of paper?”

He took a pen from the collection at his elbow, and you ripped off a piece of cash register tape so that he could jot down the address to the place.

“It’s real easy.  Once you get to the end of the road, go left, and it will be about a mile down on your right.  Red mailbox, the house is tucked in the trees.” He straightened to look at what he’d written, and then bent down again to keep the pen going.  “This is my number just in case.”

The side of your mouth jerked up in a smile while you watched his profile.  “What time should I be there?”

He rolled the cigarette from one side of his mouth to the other and capped the pen.  “Whenever. Around 6 or 7 if you wanna eat, but I’m sure the party will go on until late.”

“You can bring a friend if you want,” he added, praying you didn’t show up with another dude.

“I don’t have any friends,” you kept your eyes on the paper as you pulled it toward you, chuckling softly.

“That’s not true,” he turned away as he said it.  “You’ve got me.”

—-------

You thought you were lost at one point, winding through the old highway through the cornfields, but the second you found the fork in the road, you knew exactly where you were.  You hated that you’d spent almost two hours throwing clothes around your apartment trying to decide what to wear.

“He’s just some dude,” you mumbled to yourself, fixing your hair in the mirror.  “It’s nothing to get all nervous about.”

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  “It’s just a lame barbecue, nothing to get worked up about.  He’s a friend from school, that’s all.”

But, was that all?  

You had a blue and green stained glass bird hanging in one of the small windows, right above a trio of succulents in various planters, and you made sure to sprinkle a rare dose of water on them before you left. 

You got all the way down to your car, realized you hated the shoes you had on, and went back up to change them.  Donna eventually came out to ask you where you were going, not that it was any of her business.

“To a friend's house,” is what  you appeased her with, feeling that it would be wrong to ignore your boss, even if she had no right to ask..  

Hopper’s place was a brown and tan double wide surrounded with trees with an above ground pool out back, through the carport.  The grill was back there too, and a bunch of friends downing beers in camp chairs.  He’d gone over to the motel to invite Lorelei, but she was leaving on an out of town date with a regular that night, and a part of him wished he’d never known that.  Now, he’d have to drink away how worried he’d be for her to make it home safe.  

Or maybe he’d stay relatively sober, just in case she called.

He turned from the grill to catch his reflection in the living room window, rubbing a hand over the short beard there under the smoldering cigarette between his lips.  He muttered out loud to himself that he needed to get a fucking haircut soon since it was long enough to tuck behind his ears.  

“Sorry man,” Steve brushed by on his way around the house again.

“Hey Taz,” Hopper called after him, making Steve spin around, the heel of his Converse digging into the grass.  “Why the hell are you so fidgety tonight? Have another beer, sit the fuck down.  I’m gonna shove this burger down your throat in a minute.”

Steve raked a hand through his hair a few times, exhaling a ragged breath.  This was only his third or fourth time going around front to see if he could get a view of your car coming down the road, but for some reason, Hopper was keeping track.  

Steve wondered if it was wrong that he wanted to hug you when you showed up.   

He moved his hand to the back of his neck, rubbing there.  “I told you I got that friend that might be coming. Wanted to make sure she didn’t miss the turn.”

Hopper brought his attention back to the food, letting the ash from his smoke dust the front of his Magnum P.I. tropical shirt as he spoke. “What if she doesn’t show, what then?”

“Won’t matter to me,” Steve shrugged, hooking his thumbs into his belt loops. “I need to get the other cooler out of my truck anyway.”  

He kept on his way before Hopper could say another word.  

An hour, a burger, some potato salad, and several beers later, there was still no sign of you.  A few people bobbed around in the pool as dusk bloomed on the horizon, while the rest settled in a circle around the campfire to the tune of Wild One by Thin Lizzy.

He was staring at the fire, thinking about getting up for a third beer, when he heard the distinct crunch of  tires rolling up to the gravel of the driveway from the main road.

—----

You turned down the radio, taking a few calming breaths.

He’s just a stupid boy…you reminded yourself, pulling in near the red mailbox to park behind two Harley Davidson Fatboys.  Steve’s truck was parked further up the road, away from the house, to give others more room to park, you assumed.  Hopper drove a Bronco, as well as his Harley Softail, and there were two other vehicles you didn’t recognize. 

Several tiki torches lined the way to the back of the home while the sunset blazed tangerine.  You hadn’t even turned the engine off yet when you saw Steve appear at a slow jog, waving as if to assure you that you were at the right place.  

Your heart tripped over itself at the sight of him, and you gave a quick glance to the rearview mirror to check your face. He waited for you to open the door and step one foot out before he asked if you needed a hand.  

“I brought beer,” there was a 12 pack Schlitz on the front seat from the mini mart.  A last minute choice since you’d forgotten to ask if you needed to bring anything. Steve stood holding the door open while you stretched over to grab it.  He saw the way your shirt creeped up to show some skin on your hip, but then she quickly averted his eyes.

“Wasn’t sure you were gonna make it,” he took the case of beer from you as you stood.  “Saved you some food if you’re hungry.”

Shouts and splashes echoed from the pool after it sounded like someone did a belly flop.  Steve had on a nice, button down, grass green shirt with what looked like newer blue jeans.  Had he just bought them that day? You liked the way the shirt was unbuttoned a few so that his messy patch of chest hair was on full display.  That was the most “dressed up” you’d ever seen him.  

“Think you might want to go for a swim?” He carried the case under his arm like it didn’t weigh a thing.

The question flustered you.  “I didn’t bring a bathing suit.”

He smelled really good, not like strong cologne or anything but just clean and spicy and…soft.  Like maybe you could bite into his flesh and honey would come out. 

Most of the 12 or 14 other people at the party there were too tipsy and too busy deep in their own conversation to really care or notice when the two of you came around the corner.  Hopper looked up from his chair across the fire, exhaling smoke from his cigar.  It was a big, circular fire pit made of stone, and you had the feeling he made it himself.  

There was an empty seat you assumed was Steve’s, and next to it was a younger kid with thick sideburns and a PROSPECT insignia on the back of his Coffin King’s leather.  

Still holding the beer, Steve kicked the aluminum legs of the young man’s chair. “Get up.”

The guy snapped his head to see who it was and was quick to stand.  You had your mouth open to protest taking someone else’s seat, but the guy was already off to find another one.

“I’m gonna go put these in the fridge,” Steve said.  “You want beer or–?”

“Got any whiskey?” You could feel Hopper’s eyes on you.

“Coming right up,” he replied, squeezing your shoulder. 

The whiskey tamed your nerves, and he handed you his cigarette for a few drags.  He offered you one of your own, but you declined, citing that you didn’t want to get too comfortable with it.  But really, you just liked sharing his; to hold it in your lips right after him, teasing the tip of your tongue across the filter.  He introduced you to the ones around the fire, all members of the Coffin Kings, and a few of them had partners, or “old ladies” as they were affectionately called.  You listened to the conversations buzzing around, and every once in a while, you’d find yourself chuckling at some story Steve told.  What about the time he tried to steal a riding lawnmower from the hardware store, and four employees chased him through the parking lot?

“I was just a kid,” he leaned over to tell you so that you wouldn’t think it was something he did recently.  “Barely sixteen I think. One of the guys dared me, and I never say no to those for some reason.”

“You never say no to a dare?” 

He shook his head. “Nah, I figure if I’m not hurting anyone else, there’s nothing I won’t try once.”

You pondered that, wondering about the things you wouldn’t do if dared.  

You must’ve shivered, or maybe it was just his intuition, but he motioned to his leather jacket on the backseat of the chair. “You cold? Wanna wear this?”

“No I’m fine, thank you,” but then, “maybe later.”

“What about you,” Hopper said over the tips of the flames, looking in your direction.  “You got a story?”

For the first time all night, they all turned to you, expectantly, and your face began to sweat.

Steve’s hand found your knee. “You don’t have to,” he whispered.  

You thought about the stories you had, and wondered if you should tell the truth or make one up.

“Um,” by then, the others had lost interest. Steve and Hopper were the only ones looking at you. “Well, I ran away from home once and joined the circus.”

Sparks popped in the fire, and Hopper tilted his head to squint curiously.

Steve went along with it.  “Were you a dancer? Those women with the tassels on their—”

He was about to say nipples but stopped himself.

“I had a couple different jobs,” you took another sip.  “I sold cotton candy at one of the kiosks, did tarot readings and fortune telling.  The last job I had was as a magician’s assistant.”

“You serious?” Steve was fascinated.  “You mean you’re, like, psychic or something?”

You rubbed your lips together, thumbing the rim of your beverage.  “Not exactly, I’ve never been sure how it works, but I see things sometimes.”

“How old were you?” The woman with the bleached blonde hair next to you asked.  She wore an American flag bikini top with tattered denim Daisy Dukes.  

“Seventeen.”

Steve had his chin pinned to his shoulder, searching your face with deepening interest.  

“That’s badass,” the Prospect that had once been in your chair said, but he was next to Hopper at that point.  He had a full head of wavy hair, feathered off his face with some type of gel.  come to find out, his name was Dino, as in short for Dinosaur.  “I’ve always wanted to join the circus.”

The rest of them gave low chuckles, and one mumbled, “there’s still time.”

“Why did you run away from home?” Steve whispered it, wondering if maybe you might not want to answer that in front of everyone.

Dino went on to expand on what a good circus barker he’d be while you spoke only to Steve.

“I didn’t really have, you know, the best childhood,” you mumbled. 

“Someone hurt you?” Just the thought made him upset.

You took another sip, and then raised your voice so the group could hear. “We had one of those big red and white tents, like in the movies. The Bearded Lady, Becky, she was one of the nicest people you’d ever meet.  The lions were my favorite.  The big one, his name was August, we’d go for walks together. I made friends with a trapeze artist, but one day she was up there doing a routine on the tightrope and she fell and there was a hole in the net.  She went right through.  Her name was Debbie.”

There was a hush, and then an older biker with a gray beard next to the blonde said, “that’s fucked up.”  

“How long were you with the circus?” Dino asked.

“Only a few months,” you cleared your throat.  “And then I was on the road for a while.”

“By yourself?” Steve’s voice was louder than he’d meant for it to be. 

You gave him a soft smile and a shrug.  “I’m always alone.”

What were the odds of two lonely fucks finding each other again the way you two had?  Steve was grateful for Robin and Eddie, they were his only constants.  

Robin had decided to stay home that night, to unpack some things and get her room situated again.  Steve made sure she bolted the door and told her to use his gun if Nic tried to come around.  

“She won’t,” Robin huffed, dumping the contents of her backpack onto the bed.  “That would imply she actually gave a shit about me.  She’ll have some new married woman from the bar in our bed by tonight, I’m sure of it.”

Back at the firepit, you got to your feet and Steve followed.  “Could you tell me where, um, the bathroom is?”

The bathroom wallpaper was blue and white striped with ducks in bow ties on the trim, something you imagined was there before Hopper moved in.  A mirrored medicine cabinet and a shower without a tub that had one of those frosted, glass front doors.  Besides some mustache/beard trimmings near the sink, it was a tidy place, and smelled of cleaning supplies.  You used the fairly new bar of green soap in the clear dish, and peeked around in the cabinet like any nosey person would.  

Steve was lingering in the carpeted hallway to hand you a fresh beer.  “Didn’t want you to get lost on the way back.”

There were photo collages in frames on the walls of what looked like Hopper’s extended family.  In one, he had his arms hooked over the shoulders of Steve and an older man in their Coffin Kings kuttes.  It might've been a decade old; Steve looked like a baby.

“How long have you and Hopper known each other?”

Steve let out a raspberry sound with his lips.  “Who knows, forever.  He’s been around since we were kids.”

He was just about to reach for the sliding door out to the back patio, when someone else pulled it open.  Shirtless in his boxers, with a yellow beach towel wrapped around his waist, stood the person you knew to be Eddie Munson.  Wet hair long over his shoulders with a handful of tattoos scattered over his torso, he was dripping wet, and in the middle of scowling about something you weren’t privy to.

“Hey man,” the two men bumped fists.  His eyes darted back and forth between the two of you.  “My beeper just went off, need to make a call real quick.”

Steve introduced you, praying to whatever god would listen that whatever Eddie had to do that night did not include needing his help.  

You saw the metaphorical lightbulb of recognition brighten above Eddie’s head.  “Oh shit yeah, I remember you.  You punched Danny Rogers right in the jaw once on the playground. Dude went down hard.”

Steve seemed to beam with pride at that, exposing his gold canine, but you shifted nervously.

“I don’t like violence,” you admitted.  “But he deserved it.”

Danny was one of those boys who liked to try and put his hand up girls shirts and make nasty rumors go around that one of them blew him in the supply closet.  They were only kids, and you didn’t even know what “to blow” someone meant at the time.  

Eddie shook his hair out like a dog. “Hey, I’ll catch you two out there in a minute, okay? Good to see you again, killer.”

It was dark enough that you could only see the shapes of the people in the pool, moonlight reflecting off the water, and felt the unmistakable weight of Steve leaning into you as you went through the door.  He slid it closed once you stepped onto the concrete slab, and then you turned, not realizing how close he was, and accidentally bumping chests with him.  

You didn’t move away, but you kept your head down until Steve put a finger under your chin to lift your gaze.  The porch light was out, allowing you an extra veil of privacy from the party, and you snaked a hand up over his ribs.

“Are you gonna run away this time?” He mumbled, staring at your mouth, his lashes fluttering.

He didn't know about your dream but somehow, he did.

“I thought we were going together?”

He wondered if you could feel him shaking. 

“I’m ready,” his mouth came down close enough to exchange oxygen with you.  You shifted closer, pulling him in.

But then he abruptly cleared his throat and turned his head.

“Not like this,” he rumbled, glancing at the rest of the party.  

“Not like what?”  You sought his hand and intertwined your fingers. 

He didn’t want to say out loud what he meant, that he wanted it to be special.  

He was revealing himself to you, these things he’d been taught to hide, the ways he daydreamed about how well he could love you, if you’d let him.  If he could write for shit, he’d be one of those insufferable assholes scribbling out poetry in your honor.

He wasn’t like this with every woman he dated.

There was a special chemistry, something more spiritual than primal, that had only been activated in him a couple of times.  The last one was a while back and she took all of his trust; he was sure he’d never lean into that feeling ever again.  

Were the two of you dating? Is that what this was? Maybe the connection was all in his head and you were just going along for lack of things to do.

No, that wasn’t true.  He could tell you wanted that kiss.

He should’ve taken the chance…

Shit

But then you held his hand all the way back to the firepit, and that was something.  

----

Thank you for reading, I love you. Biker Steve will be back soon.

[nervoushottee]

Go For It | Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: Steve has been your “movie guy” at Family Video for a while now. Little does he know that the main reason you’ve been buying these movies is to flirt with him and just maybe ask him out…

Warnings: Steve being oblivious babygirl

Note: hey hottees! Happy New Year! I hope to be writing a lot more on Tumblr💗

(Possibly might be a Smut Part 2?? Let me know if you guys want one?)

——————-

The bell chimes as you enter the door of Family Video. A smile on your lips and an intent in mind as you walk confidently toward the front counter. “There’s my favorite customer.” Steve says to you with his signature smile.

Steve Harrrington, the “boy next door”, the ex- “King Steve” or for your case, “The hot Family Video employee that has a hard time understanding that you’re flirting with him.”

For the past two weeks you’ve been coming into the movie store in need of new movies to watch. The first time you came was truly because you were in need of something new and Steve in all his strong, beautiful and delicious glory helped you no problem with finding a comedy for you and your girlfriends to watch one night.

You could hardly understand half of what he was telling you about the movie when you were purchasing it. You were too busy ogling his toned arms and the many freckles across his face. You wondered if you played your cards right, you’d be able to see if there were any more freckles in other more delicate places.

The movie he recommended wasn’t actually bad and you jokingling made him your “movie guy”. You had said it to flirt and make him laugh but Steve took it seriously. He stood proud, almost cocky saying, “If you ever need a new movie, I’m your man.” pointing his thumb towards himself as you return the movie back to him a few days later.

You did in fact let him be your man and nearly spent half your pay checks each week to come in and buy movies. You would flirt and banter with him and Steve would laugh and banter right back with you.You could tell he enjoyed your company but you weren’t too sure if he was getting what you were throwing down.

One day, you came to return a movie and Steve was on his break so Robin did it instead. The two of you both knew of each other. Being in the same classes from time to time throughout the school years but you never had any mutual friends. You both talked as Robin ringed up the movie for a return and a calm silence covered you both.

Your rings made clinking noise with every tap of your fingers with the rhythm of whatever song was playing softly through the store speakers.

That sudden calm was quickly interrupted by an eager Robin.

“I think you should just go for it.” she blurts out to you.

You turn your head to see the girl staring back at you. Not too sure (you’re pretty sure) what she was referring to you tell her as such. “Go for what?” Robin looks back to where you assume is the back room door to see if Steve was coming out.

“Ask Steven out.” she whispers to you with an amused gleam in her eyes.

You peek over to the same door Robin had looked back at only seconds before, before you lean over the counter closer to her and whisper. “You think?? Because I’ve been subtly flirting with him for almost a month and he hasn’t shown much interest.”

The short haired dirty blonde eyes widen in shock, “Pfftt. Oh he’s totally interested. Number one, I mean look at you you’re gorgeous, I mean your pretty cool gal. Number 2, Steve doesn’t know if someone is flirting with him unless he’s the one that seeks them out. I know he had this “reputation” a while back but that ship has long sailed for a while and he hasn’t been doing that well in the flirtatious department if we’re being honest.” Robin says all this to you rapidly, adding finger quotation marks when she says “reputation”.

“And Number 3 and please listen when I say this. Sometimes Steve isn’t the brightest fish in the sea. If he was a dog, you would need to tell him that the bone is a treat before you give it to him or else he’ll think it's a friend and play fetch with it or something.” she finishes.

You try to take in all that she said as much as you could, trying to understand the innuendo she threw in at the end. Nodding at her words you eyes going unfocused as you get lost in your head in thought. After a few seconds you eventually grab the receipt Robin hands you.

“So yea I think you should go for it. Trust me you won’t be disappointed.” she says with a smile.

You tell her that you’ll keep it in mind and thank her before leaving the video store.

The conversation between the two of you was a few days ago.

But today, today was the day you were going to ask Steve out. You made the decision the night before. You put on your favorite outfit, listened to the songs that make you feel the most confident and didn’t forget to tell yourself some positive affirmations before you left. There was also a pint of mint chip ice cream waiting for you in the freezer just in case Robin was lying and this all didn’t go how you wanted to. (You were just making sure to check every box.)

So here you were at the counter that Steve stood behind as he leaned over to get closer to you as he spoke. “So did Jim and Janine like “Die Hard”?”.

Jim was your neighbor who you’ve known since you were young. Him and his wife Janine were in need of something new to watch and you offered to get them a movie. Saying that you knew a guy who gave out pretty good suggestions. Was it another excuse for you to show up at his job and flirt with the boy? Yes but your neighbors didn’t need to know.

“They loved it, it is definitely going to be a favorite for them.” you say to him. Steve is clearly happy with your response telling you as always that he’s happy to help.

You try to take a subtle deep breath to gather as much confidence and bravery before speaking. ‘Here it goes’, you think to yourself. “Aside from returning this,” you place both hands over the movie you placed on the counter. Rings clinking against the plastic cover.

“I am looking for something to watch for myself and I’m in need of your recommendations.” You say to him.

Steve nods his head, “No problem. Any genre you in mood for? Maybe a little action movie for yourself or a good comedy.” He places the “Die Hard” movie in the return pile next to Robin who you had no clue was even there until just now. You lock eyes with her briefly as she gives you a subtle thumbs up and mouths “go for it”.

“I think I’m in the mood for romance. Any suggestions?” You tell him softly.

Steve drums the table with his hand repeatedly as he thinks. You assume he has a movie in mind once he walks from behind the front counter and walks toward you. He places his hand lightly against the middle of your back and leads you toward the romance section. “I have a few movies in mind that you might like.”

The two of you are in the romance aisle. Between two shelves that cause you both to be a lot closer compared to the distance you were before. The front counter made a barrier between the two of you. But now you can see every detail of Steve Harrington. The small freckles against his arms, the sweet yet warm scent of his cologne as he passes you to pick up a couple movies for your suggestion. The tip of his tongue sticking out against his lip as he concentrates. Looking between each movie to choose the perfect one for you. Fuck, he’s too cute and you hope he says yes to your proposal.

“Here we are m’lady.” His voice brings you out of spacing out thinking about how cute Steve was. You smile to bring yourself back and hope Steve couldn’t tell you were staring at him and daydreaming. He raises two movies, one in each hand out to you.

“We have the great “Sixteen Candles”. A very cute and classic Rom-Com deal.” He starts to tell you about the movie, a short and sweet summary of the movie without giving any spoilers.

“And if you’re not feeling for that we’ve got “Endless Love”, a bit more of romance and with a good amount of dramatic flair.” He gives the short rundown of that movie without giving any spoilers for that one also.

You nod your hand and act as if you’re thinking of choosing one or the other. “Both good choices.” You say to him which earns you a beautiful Steve Harrington smile.

Here it goes.

“There’s a new movie that came out not too long ago. I don’t know if it's on video yet or if you guys even have it. It’s um- I can’t remember the name. There’s a guy works at a laundromat in the movie-” you start, looking a bit confused as you act as if you’re trying to remember the name of the movie that’s been repeating in your head about a thousand times since last night.

“Oh yea we do I think. One sec.” Steve walks further down the aisle and skims the shelves for the movie you were talking about. He picks it up and walks back toward you waving the movie in his hand. “This is the one right?” He hands it to you.

You nod happily, “Yea! That’s the one.” you look up at him smiling brightly and he’s smiling right back you. He asks if you were searching for any more movies and with a shake of your head, he leads you back to the register to cash out the movie.

Robin is no longer standing behind the counter but she’s acting as if she’s making herself useful. Stocking a few shelves with movies. It’s her subtle attempt to give your privacy to ask Steve out but still be able to eavesdrop on the whole thing.

Steve walks behind the counter and begins to ring up the movie, muttering the lyrics to the song from the radio in the background. You think to yourself that now is a good time as any to ask him out. You won’t get this opportunity again. Despite Robin teling you about Steve’s lack of dates, you doubt that’s going to last forever. I mean look at him, he’s Steve Harrington.

You clear you’re throat before speaking, “So uh-How many movies does a girl have to buy for you to ask her out?”

Steve freezes in what he’s doing, the movie in his hand as he stares at you. His eyebrows raised in curiosity and shock. “What?”

You don’t let his confusion or shock stop you. You’re on a roll now, you can’t just quit.

“This movie is still in theaters. It’s not that busy now but I still would love to see it on the big screen. Maybe instead of me getting this tape,” you grab the movie softly from his hands. Steve still so frozen in shock he lets you. You place the movie down on the counter and slide it away.

“Maybe you and I can go see it? If you want, that is.” you finish.

You look up at him sweetly and Steve blinks once, twice, a few more times. He swallows like theres a lump stuck in his throat and before he speaks, he nods.

“Ye-Yea.” he starts, his voice cracking at first before he clears his throat and shakes his head subtly to get shake himself out of it.

“Yea uh that’d be great.” He finally responds.

You smile brightly at him. You go on your tippy toes to reach over the counter for the pen that was in the front pocket of his jeans. You hear Steve gasp slightly before you go back to how you were normally standing.

You grab his arm softly and he lets you and you uncap the pen. “I’m free on Saturday but you can call me so we can figure out a time that works for you.” you say to him, writing your number on his arm. You put a heart and small smiley face at the end of it before handing the pen back to him with a smile.

You don’t let him say anything else to you as you say goodbye and begin to walk away. But that’s before you see Robin out of the corner of your eye who gives you a wink and a big thumbs up. You exit Family Video and walk a few paces before letting out an excited squeal when there was no one around.

You just scored yourself a date with Steve Harrington.

— — — — —

(Did I use Joe Kerry’s song as the title…maybe)

HEY HOTTEES OMG ITS BEEN SO LONG <3

Small life update, Im a working girlie so thats where most of my time goes and im way too tired to do anything else but sleep. But hopefully this year that changes!

I miss my friends on here and I hope to make new ones so please don’t be shy to send me a message!!

Hoped you enjoyed this fic of reader being down bad in need for Steve

[stevebabey]

Hi hi hi!! Congratulations so much on your milestone! I haven’t been following for very long but you are one of my favorite Steve writers, bar none. Thanks for sharing your writing with the internet 💖

📽 If I may step behind the beaded curtain of Family Video…

Post-battle, one of the many you’ve shared with Steve, and you just want to stop thinking. Thinking hurts, especially when you think about the fact that you almost just lost each other!! Steve is being lovey and sweet and altogether way too nice while you make out so you bite his lip, ruck your hands through his hair, roll your hips a little harder. He lets you flip him underneath you, but it’s still not enough, so you’re pulling at his mouth and fisting his shirt in ur hands and avoiding eye contact bc if you cry that’s it, it’s over, he won’t fuck you like you want it. But of course he notices, and tries to soothe you, “baby baby honey. Please. Shhhh. Talk to me” with kisses on your cheeks and petting at your hair and worry creasing his brow. And godammit if he doesn’t make you talk to him like a healthy adult who processes their feelings 🙄 before eating you out while holding ur hands for comfort. And maybe he doesn’t fuck you like you want it, but definitely how you NEED it. He always knows 🥺

(I’m sorry if that’s too long I just got so excited to share this and talk with you and if it’s not your style I totally understand and congrats regardless!!!!)

anon u came to the RIGHT place for some tender loving sex i am ALL for that shit!!! also hello!!!! i’m so very pleased to have u here!! u make me blush honey, and yes indeed come behind da beaded curtain hehe - also DAMN i do not know how to shut up apparently, i sat down to write this, fixed myself a g&t and clearly went a bit insane <3 hope u love! 18+ content below the cut MDNI

maybe it’s a bit too much of a close call this time, or it’s just that you’ve been here too many times but either way your nerves are frayed tonight— and the solution lies in steve’s arms. there’s something bout the skin-to-skin that soothes one part of you entirely while setting another part aflame- you love him and you nearly lost him tonight and it sets you about with a burning desire, nearly delirious in how his lips feel against yours, how he feels pressed against you when you grind in his lap and clutch at his shirt- you’re tugging at the fabric but don’t even pause your kisses for a moment, just try to tug it up and off. it’s the first sign to steve that tonight is different, that you’re needier than usual. he murmurs his assurances of love, soft and low, “it’s alright, honey,” he mumbles between the heated kisses, “we’re both alright, we made it out,” and he gives what you want, his shirt off and then your own

but he’s being soft, all delicate and caring with you and normally you adore that- the sweet lovebites scattered along your neck that’ll be gone by morning- tonight, instead it feels like you’re treated like glass, like in your mind maybe he’s still preparing to say goodbye in some twisted final way — so you use your hands to press him down, knees straddling his waist and try your best to let the message sink in; if he fucks you rough, it’s like none of the hurt of tonight happened, like the shit you went through didn’t happen at all. hands in his hair, hips rolling down sinfully and pulling groans from his throat, you reattach your mouths and desperation pours from your lips- you don’t want to slow down, to think about what you’ve both barely escaped and agonisingly, steve can tell — his hands grasp your face and halt your kisses but the moment you pause, you won’t look at him, can’t look at him. suddenly you’re embarrassed and steve is all quiet murmurs, “hey, hey, honey, what’s this? what’s going on with my girl?” and his nose nudges against yours, encouraging u to answer and your voice is smaller than ever as you give some pititful excuse, some line that usually riles him up, “just wanna feel you, stevie, just wanna fuck you,” and you grind down on him

steve knows you better than that though and though he hisses, pleasure spiking at the grind you give, he moves his hands to stop your hips- the movement they pause, his hands climb up and cradle your face as his features give away his worry. there’s a terrible furrow in his brown, eyes pooled with concern and he pulls you close, dozens of kisses against your cheeks, your nose, your forehead as he murmurs to you, “honey, please, talk to me,” and you do exactly what you’d been trying to avoid, fat tears welling in your eyes and shit, now you’re crying but it’s like it’s exactly what steve’s expecting — his arms are ready to hold every piece of you together while you cry shakily, whispered fears and confessions of love he’s already heard before and steve listens to it all- his kisses take your tears and when you calm, fear finally taking the back burner in your mind and breathing normal, he’s ready n waiting for you. “d’you want to just sleep?” he checks, lovingly and your shaking your head no quickly; you weren’t lying before, there’s an itch under your skin that can be sated only by his touch. steve doesn’t seem surprised but rolls the both of you over, kissing you with a bit more fervour now that he knows you’re truly alright - then he’s moving down the bed, kisses against your collarbones, down your sternum and when you voice your confusion steve’s raspy voice just says, “shh, it’s alright, lemme take care of my girl, yeah? you gonna let me take care of you?” his rough hands are already teasing the inside of your thighs so you can’t help but sigh out a yes

and he does take good care of you, one hand intertwined with yours as the heat of his mouth works your cunt, drawing whines and whimpers out- you’re clutching his hair and feeling hot in your skin, squeezing his hand as steve whispers his praise to you, “that’s it, so good f’me, doing so well,” until you’re spilling over the edge and quivering beneath his touch- but steve’s not done and he can tell you aren’t from the look in your eye. he’s somehow managed to melt away an extra layer of stress that you only notice in its absence so when he kisses back up your tummy and stretches you nice on his cock, you keen and melt into him, completely unwound— steve’s just as he was in the beginning, soft and sweet, all i love you’s scattered between the moans but you can tell know this is exactly what you need. you’re chest to chest and only trying to get closer, fingernails clawing at his back- you’d crawl into his skin if you could- and steve fucks you through it perfectly and you somehow come apart at how he just knows — he knows you, knows what you need and when to give it to you and that’s a kind of love you don’t think you’ll ever get used to- it’s a flurry of rushed kisses and sweet words, steve urging you with a rasp to cum with him, pleading and whimpering into your neck until you both come undone. you fall asleep in his arms to the ghost of a kiss in your hair

[vanillann]

1989 MASTERLIST: A STEVE HARRINGTON X FEMALE!READER

i. ii. iii.

SUMMARY: The year is 1989, and Steve Harrington finally realized how horribly he fucked up. He let the best thing he had slip away and run off to the big city almost five years ago; but with encouragement from everyone within the small parameters of Hawkins they inspire him to get the girl back.

INSPIRED BY TAYLOR SWIFTS ALBUM “1989”

PROLOGUE: WELCOME TO NEW YORK

I: HOW YOU GET THE GIRL

II: BAD BLOOD

III: ALL YOU HAD TO DO WAS STAY

IV: OUT OF THE WOODS

V: WONDERLAND

VI: I WISH YOU WOULD

VII: CLEAN

VIII: THIS LOVE

IX: YOU ARE IN LOVE

COMING SOON!

[kookygranger]

Love seeing Steve’s POV of these events. He was so dumb for thinking reader would’ve understood what he was doing! Lol

We'll Call It Love masterlist | It Had To Be You masterlist

the song: Drops of Jupiter (Tell Me) by Train // It Had To Be You playlist

warnings: this story is a part of the series We’ll Call It Love, and much of it would be spoiled if you read this first. It’s linked above, and I hope you love it! | series warnings pertain

2.8k words

A/N: After finishing this chapter, I highly recommend reading the one shot "You're Still The One" linked here, before reading the last story in the It Had To Be You collection | Also, as always, thank you to @rebelfell for her Halloween Party blurb about Eddie in this universe - you can read the story here which is hinted at in part of the story below

“This was a bad idea.” 

He drags his feet, shaking his head behind the girl dressed as Morticia Addams. 

“Oh my god, I did not listen to you talk about grand gestures and this movie for an hour while you changed in and out of the costume six times, Steve.”

“But-”

Leigh spins, resulting in Steve almost smacking right into her. She crosses her arms and huffs, “Did you or did you not say that if you show up in this costume maybe she would see how sorry you are, see how you really feel, see-”

“I know! But I really don’t think it was a good idea any more. She threw a beer in my face last time. Plus, I…I made my choice.” Steve goes to run a hand through his hair, remembering he has this stupid costume on and rests his hands on top of it instead. He kicks at the brick wall, avoiding Leigh’s perceptive gaze.

“Right. So then get inside. Tell her you’re a pirate. I don’t care. But I did not get dressed up for you to stand outside this bar all night and wallow.”

Leigh slaps at his chest, two quick pats and then spins him and pushes him into the crowded and dimly lit bar. 

“Drinks?” Leigh leans in, shouting over the throbbing bass playing, squinting in the purple neon light and strobes hitting her face. 

Steve nods and follows, glancing around, pretending he’s not looking for one person in particular. He needs to apologize, he needs to tell you what’s going on, he just needs…you. But when he finally spots a red dress, he’s suddenly finding it a little hard to breathe because you did come as Buttercup, and you’re more beautiful than ever. 

It feels a little like the first time he saw you at Argyle’s all those months ago. There’s a spotlight hitting you, and there’s suddenly a reprieve in the thrumming music and it feels a little like Steve is walking through jello to get to you. And when you engulf Robin in a hug, and your face is pinched in pain over her shoulder, every part of his body aches. 

When you separate, and face the bar, he watches the looks of bewilderment cross each of your faces, and he blurts out the first thing he can think of when Leigh elbows him in the ribs. 

“Well, there isn’t much money in revenge.”

Smooth, idiot. 

Steve doesn’t hear Robin at first, or watch Leigh. All he sees is the anger and hurt flash across your face at the sight of him. There isn’t an ounce of you that cares he’s in this costume for the reason he is. 

You hate him, and it’s too late to change that. 

“...if you want to ditch Dingus here…”

Steve’s too hot in this damn costume and he glares at Robin, because he can’t be mad at her for complimenting Leigh, but the way your face twitches when she does means it’s clearly not helping and he can’t say so…so…

“Seriously Robin? Are you being serious right now? Where’s Nancy?”

When Leigh asks you where your dress is from and you look like you want to answer but then spin to the bar and blurt out the name of the most expensive drink, Steve wants to throw up. It was all a  big mistake. 

“Robin, where is Nancy? And Eddie? I wanna wish him luck before they go on!” Leigh loops her arm through Robin’s tugging her away from the bar. It’s not lost on Steve when she looks over her shoulder and Leigh points to you, mouthing ‘Talk to her’ with a frown and glare. He rolls his eyes and waves her away. 

Standing next to you, in this costume, not talking, hurts more than he thought possible. It’s like words sit on the tip of his tongue, ready, needing to come out, but he’s too afraid to say them. And what happens if he does say them? Will you suddenly be a fan of relationships? Will you suddenly be able to tell him everything about yourself? Will this suddenly work?

Maybe, if he pays for your drinks, it’ll be the open doorway he needs. Start the conversation.

But you ruin that plan as you push crumpled bills over the bar quickly when he pulls out his card, and he sighs. 

“You’re not seriously wearing that.”

Steve’s not even sure you realize you said it. It comes out soft, timid, like you haven’t spoken in hours and aren’t sure you remember how to. Which makes sense, because he feels the same way, like not talking to you for the last few weeks has made him incapable of doing so all together. 

He watches your pulse on your throat like some crazy obsessive vampire-like guy, he memorizes the twitch in your jaw, the inhale and exhale making your chest rise and fall. He traces each dip and curve of your face, hardened and closed off when you finally look at him. Steve swallows, searching the entirety of your face for some sort of hint that you get what he’s trying to do. That you get why he’s in this costume. A sign. A nudge. A promise that if he keeps trying, it won’t happen right away, but you’ll try too. 

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” 

“Are you fucking kidding me Steve? After everything, after what you said at the game, you’re really gonna stick to not admitting what this is?”

You gesture to his whole body and something inside of him starts to bubble, sick of you not admitting it either. How you know why he’s in this costume. You have to know. And instead of facing your own feelings about it, you’re blaming him. 

“I’m just a pirate. I don’t know what your problem is.”

Steve stares at you and you glare at him and he wonders if it’ll ever be okay again. Will you ever give him a chance to talk and will he be brave enough to spit it out if you do and will you ever be willing to do so yourself. 

It’s this horrible, painful, awkward, long moment of him not admitting and you not admitting that you’re definitely wearing a couples costume embodying truest love - that you both know he’s not just a pirate - when a random asshat claps Steve on the shoulder and says “Oh nice! As you wish, dudes!”

As you flip Steve off, he decides to be the bigger person, to apologize, to try to explain why he’s in this costume even if it puts his heart out there for you to step on. But you’re already retreating through the crowd before he can, weaving in and out of it and towards the exit. 

Steve watches you blatantly ignore Eddie and that bubbling irritation inside of him starts to grow at the thought of Eddie coming to your rescue again. At the thought of you turning to him for comfort. 

“Dude, where are you-”

“I need to talk to her. Just…don’t let Robin see.” Steve pushes at Eddie, vaguely taking in the costume involving fur and glasses and the letterman jacket he can’t even begin to piece together, before he’s following you outside. 

The air is cool against his skin, forgetting how good it felt to not be inside that bar in only a few minutes. There’s a bouncer smoking, a few people down the block, and Steve pulls at the suffocating mask and hat when he spots you walking away. He reaches out for your shoulder, calling your name. 

“Don’t touch me, Steve.” 

When you yank your shoulder from his touch, the tone of your voice, something inside of him shatters. 

How can he be the reason you sound like that? How can he be the reason your face looks like that?

He holds his hands up in surrender, deciding he’ll just leave tonight. It was too soon. 

“Look, I just want to make sure you’re okay. You can-”

When you interrupt him, when you tell him he’s not your boyfriend, the irritation he’s been keeping shoved down begins to grow from its small simmer. And when you can’t help but get closer to him despite the words coming out of your mouth, despite telling him he’s not your friend, he knows he’s about to say things he can’t take back.

“You’d like that right?” That’s it, case closed. Y/N calls the shots and decides everything…” 

Maybe he doesn’t want to take it back. Maybe he needs to say this. To make it clear he’s not the one fucking this up. You are. 

“...You’re a spoiled brat who’s mad because you’ve lost a toy.”

If he acts like it doesn’t hurt, maybe it won’t. 

Your scoff and eye roll punctuate your words, “Me? The spoiled brat? Excuse me, Mr. 50th floor and Daddy’s Credit Card. Take a look in the fucking mirror, Steve!”

What the fuck do you actually have to be mad at him for? It’s not like you love him. It’s not like you care about him. It’s not like this was anything more than sex to you, right.

Right?

When he shouts, when he pleads for you to tell him what you have to be upset with him for, and your chin quivers and your eyes get glassy, he thinks you might admit it. He thinks maybe you’ll say it and he’ll say sorry and you’ll tell each other right here, right now, everything you’ve been holding back. 

And then you shove him. 

And you tell him he’s a hypocrite.

And a liar. 

An asshole. 

Bullshit.

Each word accompanied by a shove to his chest he doesn’t even try to defend himself against. He doesn’t even try to argue. Because are you wrong?

And when you tell him to lose your number, and he searches one last time for any sign of you feeling the opposite of what you just shouted at each other, he says the only thing he can think to say at that moment. 

The only thing to convey how sorry he is. 

The only thing to possibly tell you how he feels despite you breaking his heart right now. 

“As you wish.”

“This was such a bad idea,” you groan, tying a ribbon around a little mesh bag for the fifth time in less minutes. 

You sit in your living room on the carpet. The lights are off save one lamp glowing behind the couch, shining on Inigo passed out in his dog bed just under the blue glow of the TV screen.  Piles organized by category for the little favors to be left on plates for guests take over the entirety of the room and Steve stands in the dining room.

He swipes his wrist over his forehead, staring at his suit hanging from the overhead light fixture. Steam from the iron in his hand swirling around him as he grimaces at the stubborn wrinkles in the fabric. 

“I told you not to volunteer for that. Should have made Eddie do it. He hasn’t done a thing.”

It’s the hottest night of the Summer so far, and he stands there in only his boxers and a plain white shirt, barefoot, you in a sports bra and boyshorts, both surfaces of your skin glistening with sweat despite the AC running overtime. 

The way you both are wearing next to nothing would normally have you finishing the job, tangled limbs and messy kisses, cooling off in the shower together. 

Normally, a wedding of your best friends would have someone grow closer to the person they’re dating and living with. Surrounded by all this planning, all this public devotion, all this love, should make a person imagine themselves in the same situation. 

You’re not normal. 

You hum, starting to go around to the piles, collecting hershey kisses and disposable cameras, chapsticks and pencils as you respond, “Eddie isn’t the maid of honor or the best man.”

If you were to look up, you’d see Steve watching you closely, see the way his brows knit together when you roll your eyes at the customized tic tacs. 

“Jesus,” you mutter under your breath, “This is exactly what’s wrong with weddings. I can’t believe Robin and Nancy are into all this.”

Steve sets the iron down, the newest but certainly not the first comment against weddings rubbing him the wrong way.

Again.

“Into telling everyone how much they love each other?”

You snort, shaking your head as you tie another bag closed and toss it in a bucket to bring to the venue tomorrow.

“I don’t think you need chocolate and lip balm and sunglasses and beer cozies to tell people how you feel.” 

“Sure,” Steve runs a hand through his hair and you look up, finding him leaning against the kitchen island, arms crossing over his chest as he keeps going, “Maybe they don’t need all  of that but-”

“I don’t think they need any of it, Steve,” you clarify before he can get too going about the beauty and meaning behind the day you’re all about to have tomorrow. 

Again.

“There’s nothing wrong with them wanting to tell everyone in any way possible they can, that they love each other.”

You sigh. “I don’t get why they need to tell people in the first place, Steve.”

Aside from a laugh track on the TV, it’s silent and you keep your eyes on your fingers tying green ribbon around pale pink bags. 

Steve finally breaks first, his voice soft when he asks, “What do you mean you don’t get why they need to tell people?”

Shrugging, you avoid his gaze you can feel on the side of your cheek as you start on another bag. “I mean, I don’t get why they need to tell people.”

“Like the entire wedding? You don’t get why they’re having a wedding?”

Your shoulders rise and fall in a shrug again. 

Steve’s heart hammers in his chest while yours pounds in your ears as his voice tries to remain even, but you hear it crack as it rises in volume. 

“You don’t think they should be getting married? You don’t think they should have a wedding?”

“No, I didn’t say that. I just don’t get why weddings exist. Does anything really change? Suddenly you have a legal piece of paper? Cool? After, what? Thousands of dollars. Stress. Bad food. Shitty music. I mean, we’ve watched Robin and Nancy fight over stupid shit like cake flavors the past year. How is that good for anything?”

Steve steps closer to you, his hand running through his hair making it stick up all over the place as his cheeks flush pink. 

“But they love each other and they want to tell everyone that-”

“Why do they have to tell everyone? Shouldn’t everyone already know? And why do they have to spend all this money and throw this big party? That’s all I’m saying.”

You stand again, going to grab the bucket of favors to bring it to the car so you don’t have to in the morning but Steve is shaking his head, volume and his thoughts ramping up.

“They want to throw this party because they love each other so much they just wanna scream it any way they can. Because they want it to be legal. Because they want to have fun with all the people they love and celebrate something so beautiful and unique and strong like their love. I don’t understand how you don’t understand that.”

You stand in front of him, holding the bucket, and maybe it’s the weight of the favors or the way his voice is getting louder and the apartment is getting hotter or the way his eyes seem to have you under a microscope that you snap back a little mean, that you get a little loud yourself.

“Because I don’t understand it, Steve, like I said! I don’t think you need to-”

“It’s not a need. They want to-”

“Fine! Want then! I don’t understand what possesses a person to want a wedding!”

Steve steps closer to you, his brows pinched and his hands running wild through his hair as he yells, “A fucking marriage! A partnership! A way to tell the world ‘hey this is my person, I love them’!”

“I don’t see why you need a wedding for any of that to be true!” You shout right back. 

You stand there facing each other, with ragged breaths that move your chests up and down almost in sync. 

Steve’s swallow is loud, his inhale louder. Time seems to stretch on forever as he stares at you, as his eyes soften into something you can’t quite describe, as flashes of the words he just said and what you said back swirl around you, almost tangible. 

You stand there, in a sea of pink and green, of things that are emblazoned with Robin and Nancy’s names and the words love and forever staring you down as Steve’s voice comes out sharp, cracked, vulnerable, loud. 

“You wanna marry me, right?”

[sunflowergirl522]

Definitely Not Dreaming

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Harrington!Reader

Request from Anon: Harrington!reader, Steve’s little sister. Popular, a cheerleader, first time senior and Chrissy’s best friend. But she has a secret that only her best friend knows. She’s had a crush on Eddie Munson since middle school. She’s afraid to tell him, thinking there’s no way he’d be into her. Until one day in the cafeteria, Jason Carver calls Eddie a freak. She confronts him, and punches him in the face, breaking or spraining her hand/wrist. Guess her little secret is out, and she may never be popular again.

Word Count: 3401

Eddie Masterlist

Popularity basically came hand in hand with being a Harrrington. When you first started highschool, a year after Steve did and without knowing anyone thanks to the private school you had been in, everyone who had adored him immediately decided to adore you as well. Mostly it was to try to get King Steve, a horrible nickname that you still tease him about, to like them. You weren’t complaining at first, it came with plenty of friends and invites to groups and parties, hell cheerleading basically fell into your lap. 

You hadn’t even been looking to join the squad when you first got to Hawkins High, the head cheerleader at the time, Becca, had searched you out after hearing about Steve Harrington's little sister being a freshman. It was some ploy to try to get into his pants but that didn’t make you enjoy it any less. You had never done it before but, and you could blame it on your perky attitude and your energy, you quickly fell in love with cheering. It didn’t matter that it took up a lot of your free time or that most girls on the squad were bitches, it was so much fun and if you hadn’t joined the team who knows if you would’ve become best friends with Chrissy. Robin on the other hand you’re sure you would’ve been friends with either way.

The downside to the popularity, that you’ve complained relentlessly to Steve about, is no one wants to actually get to know you or wants you to actually be yourself. You let one intrusive thought out at a party once and it was like a record scratch moment where everyone in the area looked at you like you were crazy. Since then you’ve kept the real you locked behind this more watered down version and are only really your whole genuine self around Chrissy and Robin, who you were friends with first and will never let Steve forget.

But the worst part about being part of the popular crowd by far was that Eddie Munson avoided you like the plague. It seemed like anytime you tried to approach him he’d veer some other way or seemingly disappear in the crowd of students. It’s not like you could blame him, not completely at least, you’ve seen how everyone treats him. You just wish he’d give you a chance to show him you’re not like everyone else.

You have the biggest crush on the older boy. It started years ago when you attended the talent show Hawkins middle school had to watch Steve. You watched his band perform with stars in your eyes before having to run after a freaking out Steve due to your parents lack of caring. After hyping him up as much as you could and getting him excited all over again you bumped into the big brown eyed boy and talked to him until your brother took the stage. You never interacted with him after that and had almost completely forgotten about the small silly crush until you happened to spot him in the hall your first day of freshman year.

You hadn’t recognized him at first but how could you? It was the first time in three years that you saw him. But then he threw his head back in laughter in the boyish way you used to replay in your head daydreaming about the boy you met once and you immediately knew who he was. 

Your crush has since then come back full swing and gotten worse. He’s just so pretty and even though he makes himself seem scary you know he’s still so sweet. The evidence was there when he approached Jonathan when Will was missing to offer him whatever support he might need and more recently in how he’s really helped the kids you’ve come to love like your own siblings feel accepted in their new environment. Both instances cause you to want to let out a dreamy sigh just thinking about them. 

Steve makes a joke here or there about the crush you had when you were younger but hasn’t realized yet that it still exists. But really Chrissy and Robin are the only ones who know about it. You don’t keep it a secret because you fear losing your popularity, if they stop liking you just because of who you like then good riddance, no you keep it secret because if it got out to him you think you might just die. To you the idea that maybe he would ever like you too seems completely impossible. A fact that is so funny to you seeing as you’ve literally helped the kids fight monsters. And if that’s not impossible, nothing should be.

“Earth to Y/n!” Chrissy waves her hand in front of your face to get your attention away from Eddie down the hall back to whatever she was saying.

“I’m here, I’m here! What is it?” She laughs as you jump and turn to face her trying to act like you’ve been paying attention the whole time.

“You were not! Stop ogling your boyfriend and start hyping yourself up for the pep rally at the end of the day.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” You murmur and take one last glance at the boy laughing with Dustin at the kids locker. “What’s the rally for again?”

“Introducing this year's basketball team and celebrating the football team's undefeated victory.”

“Oh yeah. I’m so excited to cheer for Lucas. He's been so happy about making the team.” He had been over your house almost everyday for a month to play with Steve to get ready for tryouts. And as far as you know you were the first person he told that he made the team. He had been practically giddy with his happiness.

“I just hope Jason doesn’t go overboard with hazing this year like last time.” Last year it had been so bad that two freshmen quit right before the first game. They just barely had a full team for it.

“I swear if he makes Lucas hate the game I’ll kill your boyfriend myself.” You’re already on the brink of hitting him or something with how he treats everyone who isn’t part of the “it crowd”. You’re still not even sure what Chrissy sees in him but that’s a battle you lose every time you bring it up.

“Yeah, I know.” She sighs as she closes her locker not wanting to get into it with you. “Now come on, let’s get to the cafeteria before it gets too crowded.” 

You follow behind her. It’s not that the two of you want to beat the crowd for the line, you pack yourself more food than you can eat because Chrissy’s mom packs her basically scraps to eat and you want to make sure she eats more than a handful of carrots. The two of you just hate maneuvering through students holding trays. As the two of you sit down in your usual seats you hope Mike is there early enough it’s easy to spot him so you can give him the lunch he forgot in your car today. 

“Mike!” You get up when you spot him walking towards their table with Lucas and head his way, lunch bag in hand. You smile and wave to Lucas as you pass each other so you can stop in front of Mike.

“What’s going on over there Sinclair?” Eddie asks when Lucas sits down nodding his head in your direction. “Mike having issues?” 

“What, no it’s just Y/n.”

“I know, Harrington's sister. Why’s that happening?” He motions again to your laughing form and Mike’s smile at being handed a brown paper bag.

“I don’t know man it could be anything. Why do you care so much?”

“I don’t.” He does. Because he cares about if anyone other than him gives Mike a hard time. But also because he remembers the little girl he met all those years ago and how sweet he had thought she was and the big crush he had on her. Kids were cruel to him even back then so you had been like a breath of fresh air and after losing you in the crowd when you went back to take your seat to watch Steve perform he searched for you relentlessly in the halls of Hawkins Middle School just for you to not be there. And then you showed up here your freshman year and immediately joined the crowd that has tried to make his life hell for so long and he thought that sweet girl was gone. 

And then he met Dustin, Mike, and Lucas and after hearing them talk about you between themselves he realized you were still a big sweetheart. And has since noticed how you give Chrissy half your lunch almost everyday and how you don’t laugh along with the others when they’re harassing another student and have even just walked away on occasion. Some days when it’s really bad he’s watched you get up and move to sit with the band kids where you look happier and more comfortable.

As you take your seat next to Chrissy again you try not to make it obvious as you look over to watch the table, specifically Eddie, greet Mike.

“Pretty sure he was just watching you again.” 

“Shut up Chrissy, he doesn’t watch me.” You groan and roll your eyes before getting your own lunch out and passing half your sandwich over to her. “He avoids me like he’ll catch a disease if we even walk down the same hallway.” She always tries to tell you that he watches you when you’re not paying attention but if that was true he wouldn’t turn as soon as he sees you in the direction he’s heading.

“Hey babe.” Jason greets Chrissy as he sits at the end of the table. “Y/n.” 

“Jason.” You hold in your scoff as his neanderthal friends sit down with him. You scooch closer to Chrissy as Andy sits next to you invading your space. You’d be scared of him if you haven’t witnessed Eddie fighting him in the past and how he backs off now as soon as Eddie starts moving towards him.

“Hey doll face.” He leans in closer to you like he normally does. He has the audacity to think the two of you should get together because you’re both best friends with Chrissy and Jason. You just wish Patrick would’ve been the one to get here before him like he’s been trying to do. “How bout you and me go to the drive in tonight?”

“How about no. I think Patty’s free tonight, you should try asking her.” You bring attention to your squadmate who you know has a thing for the idiot next to you.

“Hey!” Patrick squeezes in across from you. “Where’s Lucas at?” That gets Andy’s attention away from you.

“Yeah, where’s the fresh meat?”

“At the freaks table.” Jason joins in as he spots Lucas and you send Chrissy a look knowing that something is about to happen that’ll make you mad. “Sinclair! You don’t belong over there with the freakazoids anymore, you’re one of us now.” Lucas looks over confused and obviously not wanting to leave his friends. With his friends jeering and support Jason gets more arrogant and egotistical obviously enjoying all the positivity he’s getting from the table of cheerleaders and jocks. “If you don’t sit with us, you’re not on the team.”

Lucas’s eyes go wide in shock and he murmurs an unseen apology to his friends before gathering his lunch up and standing to move. You gasp at Jason's threat which goes unheard to everyone but Chrissy, drowned in the cheers and laughter, who shares a stunned look with you and grabs onto your wrist in her shock. Your chair scraping on the ground as you stand up cuts through the noise and brings almost the whole room's attention to you.

“You have to be out of your fucking mind! What the hell do you think you’re doing threatening him like that?” You don’t see it but Robin stands up ready to get you out of there if need be once you step around Chrissy to get closer to the man himself. Eddie gets up as soon as Jason’s attention turns to you.

“It’s my team I can decide who stays on it or not.” You make a failing buzzer noise causing him to flinch.

“Wrong. Last I checked you weren’t the coach and Lucas was already officially added to the team. You can’t just decide he’s off it just because he’s friends with people you don’t like.” Your anger just keeps boiling up in you and your instinct to protect your found family comes front and center.

“Nothing's official until the pep rally announcement, if he wants to sit with a bunch of loser weirdos then he can stay a fucking loser weirdo.” You go to lunge for him but someone grabs your middle to stop you. Jason’s so angry that you even tried to do something that he doesn’t even notice who pulled you back. “You little-”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Eddie steps up so you’re positioned behind him and he’s the one staring down Jason. He takes a step back and Eddie smirks before putting his hands on your shoulders to turn you towards the door. “Just keep walking sweetheart.” He speaks so only you can hear him.

“Yeah, go run off with king freak!” You turn around and swing without thinking twice about it, landing your punch to Jason's cheek before Eddie grabs you and forces you out of the room. “Fucking bitch!” If Eddie wasn’t so focused on getting you away from him he’d punch Jason himself. Robin heads over to collect your stuff glaring at Jason before following the two of you out hoping to catch up before losing you becomes an option. 

“Stupid fucking airhead who does he think he is?” You grumble to yourself letting Eddie guide you outside. “Shit that hurt.” You shake out your hand as he has you sit at one of the picnic tables. You were used to swinging bats and shit not punching things.

“Flex your hand for me.” Eddie lightly holds onto your arm right below your wrist while crouching in front of you. You nod and do it the rest of you freezing because wow he’s so close to you right now. And his brown eyes are observing your hand and wrist like it’s the most precious thing in the world. “Good. Can you rotate your wrist? Any pain there?”

“It’s not like a this is gonna hurt in the morning kind of hurt but it is a why the hell would you do that kind of hurt.” He chuckles at your observations and it’s like a whole beehive formed in your stomach.

“You definitely didn’t break anything then, and I doubt you sprained anything either. Can’t imagine a girl like you goes around punching people often so that’s good.” He balls your hand into a fist oh so gently to make sure you can still form one before moving it around to double check. And suddenly the bees are swarming out of the hive and up your chest.

“I remember you, you know.” The words just fall out of your mouth and you have no control over it.

“What?” At this Eddie looks up to meet your eyes with his own.

“From years ago, we were still kids and I was there to watch Steve in the talent show. And I bumped into you at one point and we just sorta talked for a while before he was called onto the stage. I thought you were just the cutest back then, cuter now with all this hair though. Oh God I’m gonna shut up now.” Eddie laughs at your short ramble and lets go of your hand even though he’d like to keep holding it.

“I remember you too.” He rests his arms on his knees as he slightly leans back.

“You do? Then why do you avoid me every chance you get? We could’ve been friends this whole time.”

“When I first found out you were gonna be here for your high school years I wasn’t planning on it. But then you got here and immediately started hanging around the crowd you do and I don’t know, I figured that you would maybe join them in their taunting and teasing.” You go to speak but he puts a hand over your mouth so he can finish. “So I just decided to avoid you completely so my memory of you being so nice wouldn’t get tainted. But then I’d see you help other kids and give Chrissy half your food during lunch and I realized you were still probably the nicest one of them. And then Dustin and his friends started this year and they constantly talk about you among themselves or bring you up in happy memories. I wanted to approach you then but I haven’t wanted to bring you into all the shit they throw at me.”

“Welcome to being a Harrington, popularity just falls into your lap whether you want it and enjoy the people around you or not.” You speak when he finally takes his hand away. “Besides I think I may have just fucked that up for me myself.”

“If you don’t like any of them why stay around them?”

“They aren’t all bad, Chrissy’s my best friend and Patrick is nice when you get to know him. Some other girls on the cheer team are alright too. It’s just the majority that are dicks. I just, I love cheering so much that I’m willing to force myself to be around them.” 

“Well you’ll have me and the guys if that’s so.” It’s silent for a minute before Eddie speaks again.

“I tried to search for you, after the talent show. I’d scour the halls between classes and pray I’d spot you.”

“I went to a private all girls school, something about my parents wanting me to be proper.”

“It’s a shame, I had the biggest fucking crush on you sweetheart.” You gasp and before you know it your hands are grabbing his jacket and pulling him up to connect your lips.

“Shit, sorry.” You pull away as soon as you realize what you’re doing. “I just, I had a big crush on you too.”

“Don’t be sorry.” One of his hands cradles your face while the other holds onto the back of your neck pulling you into another, more desperate kiss. Your hands immediately go to his hair that you’ve been dying for years to play with as you match his energy.

“There you are, I grabbed your stuff since you left without it. Woah, I’m definitely interrupting something.” Robin comes out with your book bag in hand, freezing when she sees what’s happening. The two of you part at the sudden intrusion and look at Robin eyes wide. “Oh Steve’s definitely gonna kill one of you.” 

“Who’s Steve killing?” Chrissy appears next to Robin slightly out of breath from chasing her down. “Oh.” She takes in the two of you slightly breathless and Eddie’s hands on your bare thighs where they fell to after breaking apart. “Oh.”

“We don’t actually have time for this. Isn’t the cheer squad practicing with the band crew before the rally?”

“Yeah, we gotta go.” Chrissy grabs you and pulls you up to get to the gym.

“Bye Eddie, see you at the pep rally?”

“Yeah, yeah I’ll be there.” He has just enough time to see you smile at him before the door closes behind you. Robin sighs at seeing his own dopey smile.

“I’ll tell her to meet you after so you can get her number or something.”

“Thanks Buckley! You’re the man!” She rolls her eyes and disappears leaving Eddie to dramatically fall back onto the concrete in disbelief.

“First I actually punched Jason and then that? Chrissy, pinch me I think I might be dreaming.” She does so, making you yelp. “Definitely not dreaming then.” You make a show of pumping your fist in the air causing your friend to laugh before you go back to normal to face the rest of the cheer squad.

Eddie Taglist (31/40): @sadbitchfangirl​ @notbeforelong​​​​ @navs-bhat​ @emotionaldreamer​ ​​​​​  @gaysludge​​​ ​@eddiethesexy​ @mazerunnerrose​ @midnightsgetawaycar  @mushroomelephant @saramelaniemoon @nojamsonmytoast @vintagehellfire @esoltis280 @spikedhe4rt @siriuslysmoking @toobsessedsstuff @alana4610 @gretavanfleas @sparkletash @aactuaaltraash @spookyemorockbabe @jesssssmaybankk @tlclick73 @eddiemunsonslittlemetalhead @bl4ckt00thgr1n @eli-flower @canyonmooncreations @witchwolflea @emxxblog @chaoticgood-munson

Everything Taglist: @matchamunson​ @bubsonnobx @practicalghost​ @katsukis1wife @crustyowos @yourfavdummy @protecteddiemunson4vr @kennedy-brooke @m00nkn1ghts @rory-cakes

[forever-rogue]

reading roundup!

here’s your weekly dose of all my clownery summed up in one post 🥰

it must be exhausting - joel miller x fem!reader

hurt - joel miller x fem!reader

understanding - steve harrrington x fem!reader

bad assumption - eddie munson x fem!reader

touch - tasm!peter parker x gn!reader

[kookygranger]

Wow! This is heartbreaking and beyond beautiful ✨

don't fall away from me

summary: “If I should fall, on that day / I only pray, don't fall away from me" from I, Carrion (Icarian) - Hozier

w.c.: 1.9k

previously

Years pass by, and time moves differently here. Hawkins, but not quite, stuck in the perpetual year of 1983. Life, or whatever you call his existence, in the Upside Down is one long, drawn-out night. Turbulent clouds of red and blue rolled through a bruise-colored sky. 

And somewhere beyond, just out of his reach, lies the scent of summer. It wafts through as it pleases— fragrant blooms, sunlight, and waxy blades of green. He can almost taste the slupees and melting popsicles, watermelon sugar tingling on his tongue.

He can hear your laughter in the dead air, the sound echoing through the caverns of his mind. That is, at least, when he isn’t there.

Vecna, Henry Creel, his majesty the scrotum— whatever.

Speaking of which—

“It’s time.”

The steel-trap of his memory slams shut, though it’s useless to try and keep anything for himself. Learned that the hard way. Many times, in fact.

Like clockwork, the lone walkie crackles to life with a burst of static. 

“Eddie, it’s Dustin. Over.”

His longs to wrap his fingers around the chunk of plastic and press down to reply. He always will, he can’t rightly help it.

But this time, Dustin says something else. It’s not the usual: “Eddie, can you read me? Over.”

Instead, it's: “Eddie, if you’re there just—” followed by a deep breath. “If you come back, things are different now. She’s different. She’s got another life and…”

In spite of himself, he creeps closer to the walkie. 

Dustin heaves a sigh down the line. “Please don’t come for her. If you are what I think you are, you’ll stay away.”

But, of course, he doesn’t listen to Henderson’s pleas. Turns out, a prolonged stay in the Upside Down as Vecna’s Frankenstein abomination of a lieutenant will do that to a person. Or whatever he was now. He can’t listen to good sense because his has fled. He has to hope that some things are the same, that your love remains the same.

And with that, he unfurls his wings and takes off toward the surviving gate.

Ever since he’d woken up, or rather, been revived by Vecna, something has been pulling at him from Hawkins. Well, several somethings really, but two in particular burn the brightest. He follows them like the north star guiding him home.

Except home for him doesn’t exist anymore, at least not in any way that matters. 

A cabin tucked away in the woods kept secret and safe, sunken back against the trees. On a thick branch of a nearby tree hangs a tire swing, pastoral and endearing. Next to it sits a worn picnic table, burgundy paint peeling at the edges. There’s a clatter from behind the door before it creaks open.

You linger there, back turned to him, a cream-colored dress falls to graze just beneath your knees. Your hair is longer now, a smile coming to his lips as he continues to observe, a few locks falling loose from the braid you’ve tied.

The braid and dress are new. But the ease with which you lean into the house, carefree and relaxed, that is familiar.

And maybe that’s enough.

He watches as you eventually settle back against a well-loved rocking chair, a soft crooning voice floating through the air as you tilt your head back and sigh. 

Christ. You smell good. He always thought you had, even now the faintest aroma of sandalwood only serves to conjure vestiges of you. But he can’t detect the fine traces of them now. In its stead is a bright note of salt, musk, and heat beckoning him like a siren’s call.

Only once the sun has set beneath the horizon does he answer that call, stepping out from underneath the shade of the trees. A twig snaps underfoot at his approach, and your head whips toward him, your mouth pulled in a flat line. With the grace and quickness only Nancy Wheeler would envy, you grasp the barrel of a soldered off shotgun.

“I would suggest you turn back now,” You warn lowly, cocking the hammer and wrapping your finger around the trigger.

Stepping from the trees, he raises his arms slowly and sheepishly ducks his head.

“Unless you’ve got some silver bullets in there, sugar,” He jests, lips jerking into a careful smile, “I doubt it’ll do much good.”

Rising from the chair, you narrow your eyes to stare into the taller broader figure of a man you have known too well. 

“Eddie?”

He responds with a nod, not that it does much to lessen the blow. You blink, eyes darting side to side as if questioning your reality.

Hearing his name slip from your tongue so softly nearly steals his breath. He can’t help but close his eyes to memorize it. That voice, his name, the years have passed, and he hasn’t forgotten. Not a single thing.

From the first time you called it, to the first time you whispered it, to the last time you sobbed it, following him into the unknown darkness. No matter how black his heart, he always had you.

“Hi sweetheart,” He greets, stepping forward and dropping his arms, extending a shaky outstretched hand.

Or, what could once be considered a hand.

And the devastation that falls on your face is worse than any of the terrors he’s suffered combined. You stand frozen like a statue, stiff and still save for the fluttering of your skirt in the breeze.

Beautiful as ever.

Your mouth begins moving before any words fall forth, expression ranging from shock to elation before settling at outright terror. There’s a slight tremor to your hands as they grip the weapon aimed directly at him.

He can hear the quickening of your heart, the whoosh of air that slips from your lungs with each breath, the inherent thrum of life all around you.

He makes to call your name, but the words fall silent in his throat at the sight unfolding before his eyes. The door creaks loudly as you dash in front of it, shielding something from view.

And then he sees it. The change Dustin alluded to; the life.

If he had a heart, it would have dropped, trembled even. Even the cool absence of it feels like it could burst right through his chest.

“Mama?” The boy whispers from behind the mesh of the screen door. He clumsily totters from one foot to the other, landing with a plop on the floor.

A child.

“Stay there baby,” You say, eyes trained on Eddie and flashing in warning. “I’ll be in soon.”

Mama.

Fuck. The boy is beautiful. Footsie pajamas and face shadowed, shielding him from Eddie’s prying eyes. Even if he can’t make out the boy’s face just yet, he knows, because of you, any child would be perfect. Like those cherubs from Renaissance paintings. A little cherub that could have been his.

“Cute kid,” Eddie smiles, voice soft and low, “What’s his name?”

“He’s named after his father,” You say taking one step toward him. “And you should be leaving.”

“Jams!” The boy helpfully offers, “My name's Jams!”

“J-Jamie.” You breathe, “His name is Jamie.” Clearing a tickle in your throat, you clarify, “Steven James, technically.”

The boy— Steven. Eddie feels himself roil at the new knowledge. His name is Steven.

“Steven? Steve?” Betrayal trips along his tongue, a lingering tang of wet pennies in the way he questions it. As much as he tries to brace for it, a tiny blooming wound breaks through the syllable.

Between your overcast eyes and Eddie’s inspecting onces, the boy is lodged like a twig in a dam, holding back the torrent from both sides. You continue to grip the rifle and shush him now for the time being.

“Is he— Steve? He’s Steve’s?”

Eddie observes the front yard, the blinding, hopeful curtain lifting from his eyes— there are three chairs on the porch, three black-eyed Susans painted on the mailbox, three stumps further afield surrounding a fire pit.

A home.

You face swims with heartbreak, mouth twisting into a scowl he’s seen rarely but still— he knows it.

“Yes, Eddie.” You sigh, nostrils flaring and face coloring with indignation.

Eddie frowns, broken-hearted, apologetic, jealousy roiling in his gut. Unshed tears gather at your lashes, lips pinched tightly, as if holding back your words will keep the tears at bay. He doesn’t know what you mean as he stares vacantly at your protective stance.

But then he sees it.

He sees it when the boy grunts, tired of a conversation that is years beyond his interest and understanding. He rests a tiny hand against the screen door and gently pushes at it.

Jamie is quick and before you can haul him back behind you, he scampers into the light as if the pair of you are playing a game, and when Eddie looks back to where his perfect little head is— drawn firmly to your side, plopped on your jutting hip, he sees dazzling cascades of mahogany curls glinting in the dim porch light.

The boy twists his little body around and stares of Eddie with some curiosity now that they are both wholly revealed to the other.

“He was there for me,” A faint whisper escapes your mouth, heavy tears falling down your chin, pooling until they barely hang on. “He was there the entire time. All nine harrowing months, knowing that I was growing something that was yours. If it weren’t for Steve, I—” You shake the thought loose before it can take hold.

You press your lips to Jamie’s head, inhaling the sweet scent of his skin, “I was completely out of it with grief. Th-thought, I coul— I couldn’t do it. Have a baby that was yours when you were gone. When you died, what we had was barely even a dream, Eddie.”

He knows, he remembers it all too well.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry— I didn’t—"

“I know,” You nod, acknowledging his confession. “You had no reason to.” He bites his tongue, hopes it draws some blood, hopes in secret that something will take his very existence from him now, and knows the chances are slim. He can’t stand the thought of being among the living any longer, facing the consequences of his actions, his so-called heroics— the two people he left behind.

“Steve was there, and he loved me through it. And when this little… when this sweet guy—” You press your face to his and take a steadying breath. “When this boy came, we held each other and wept.”

A small laugh escapes from you muffled by Jamie’s hair.

“So, he’s named after his father, just not necessarily his biological one.”

Jamie leans toward you, places his palms to your cheeks and pats the wetness away. “No cry, mama. Happy face.”

You crumble apart, bursting into tears against his little palm, pressing kisses to his fingertips, and part of Eddie crumbles to ruin too. The boy, this precious boy, who is both his and not his, turns and looks at him earnestly.

“Mama’s okay, baby,” You whisper to him, “I’ve got you now, my sunshine boy.”

“You should leave,” You turn to Eddie, reluctance rounding the words as they tumble from your mouth. “Before he gets home.”

Because your home is with Steve now. Not Eddie, at least not anymore.

“He’ll want to see you, they all will, but not like this.”

He wouldn’t even know what to say to Steve. He wouldn’t know what to say to anyone. The stories he’d told himself of abandonment and sacrifice all pale in comparison to the reality of it all— trying to mete out a meager phantom life, half-existing, while the world continued to turn above. 

You and Steve, and his son— your son, Eddie’s son, Steve’s son. 

All strung together like tragic marionettes, and he can’t protect you from the puppet master.

With a few beats of his wings, Eddie's gone, soaring above the tree line and catching the last few rays from the setting sun. Relishes the scant warmth and thinks that maybe Icarus had the right of it; the greatest tragedy, after all, is never to feel the burning of the light.

[i-heart-slashers]

“I’ll let you out when you’ve learned your lesson.” + “Damn, you’re strong for a little thing.”

Pairings: Ex-Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Warning(s): Obsession, Delusion, Yandere, Abduction.

You didn't usually feel claustrophobic, but that seems to have changed, just like many other things in your life.

You couldn't see anything, not even your hand in front of your face, and the only thing you could hear was the shuffling sounds coming from outside the door as the person who put you in this closet moved around the room.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. Your life was supposed to be going back to normal. Gaining your independence back, leaving your boyfriend, seeing your friends again. It was all too good to be true.

Dating Steve Harrington seemed like a dream. He was such a gentleman, had a great sense of humor, and how he was with the younger kids in his friend group spoke volumes about his personality.

Nothing made you happier when he asked you out all those months ago. You accepted his offer quickly; you would have been stupid not to.

Only Steve wasn't exactly who he seemed.

Where had he hidden this manic possessiveness that seemed to burst out of him whenever anyone tried to talk to you or when you hung out with friends that weren't him.

The scary rage he had hidden under layers of 'good guy Steve' that would peek through at the worst times or when he thought guys were coming on to you.

He even threatened your brother after hearing that he was telling people at school details of your relationship after Dustin asked him if he was really trying to keep you away from them.

That was the last straw for you.

You hadn't taken notice of all the red flags before but seeing Steve push your brother against the wall with a face of terrifying fury made you take off the rose-tinted glasses.

Steve hadn't taken you breaking up with you very well, but he went silent instead of flying off the handle like you were preparing yourself for. Gave you space and seemingly erased himself from your life.

Him bowing out gracefully made you feel kind of guilty, the way you had blown up at him. Calling him out on everything, telling him all the things people had seen when his mask of normality had slipped.

That was before he had called you up out of the blue, telling you that he had put your things together and asked you to come and collect them. 

Hearing him say he packed all your belongings that you had left at his house sort of made you feel even more guilty. He was being so grown up about this breakup. 

Maybe he had finally seen his faults.

That is why you decided to quickly go over to the Harrington house and pick up your things on your own. Not only would it show Steve that you've moved on just as quickly as he did, but you didn't want to worry your brother about being around your ex.

Steve was all charming smiles when he answered the door; a part of you was flustered seeing the old playful him. He walks behind you while you make small talk, walking through his house with familiarity.

Every time you turn to look over your shoulder, you see the polite, alluring guy that you fell in love with, but as soon as your gaze is away from him, he smiles devilishly.

"You're parents away again?" You ask, motioning to the lack of noise in his house. Steve's eyes go wide for a moment before he smiles and nods his head, reeling off the usual story of his parent's being away for work.

Seeing your ex the way he used to be lured you into a false sense of security. He let you feel calm with him and even laughed with you when you made a joke about old times.

When you walked into his room, you realized something wasn't right. There was no box of belongings waiting for you; in fact, what you saw was a complete room change.

All of Steve's things had gone; instead, the room was painted and decorated like you'd always dreamed of. The room was a mix of both your things and the walls held pictures the two of you had taken together.

The shock of the new room was your downfall. That's when Steve managed to grab you and trap you in the closet. Your screams had drowned out Steve's promises of a better life.

It feels like you've been alone for what seemed like hours. 

Your shouts and pleading had long stopped. Your face felt puffy from tears, and your throat felt raw. 

For a while, you'd hoped that someone would realize you were gone until you remembered you hadn't told anyone where you were going.

"You okay in there, baby girl?" Steve's voice appeared from the other side of the door, and from his tone, you could tell he had a mocking pout, "Have you got all that silliness out of your system?".

His teasing you like a child only made you feel angrier. 

Who the hell does he think he is?

"Come on, Sweetheart, we'll be back to our normal happy lives as soon as you realize you were wrong to leave me." You had no idea Steve was this bad, "You listened to everyone but me. They poisoned your mind against me".

"I remember you telling me about your dream bedroom, even the exact shade of paint. I did this for us. No one will bother us anymore. Fuck, even my parents had to go, but I did it all for us" You listened to his delusional rambling in horror.

Did he really kill his parents?.

"I'll let you out when you've learned your lesson." Your ex crooned from the bedroom, another thing that sounded too good to be true, but you had to try.

"I have. Please, Stevie, I've learned. I'm sorry", You begged, placing both your hands on the door before pressing your forehead against the hardwood. You weren't too proud to beg even when you didn't mean it.

Especially if it felt like life or death.

As Steve opened the door, you kicked it open with one heavy boot. It was now or never. Leaping at Steve, you both landed on the ground with a loud bang. "Damn, you're strong for a little thing." He grinned, holding your arms away from him effortlessly.

Tucking his leg around yours, he quickly turned the two of you over. His body loomed over yours as you continued to fight. Steve let out a playful laugh as he held you to the floor tight. "I've missed this, baby. I missed us".

[stillxnunpxidintern]

Steddie x Reader Imagines - Snow Day

As adults with jobs that both Steve and you had to drive too, you never got a snow day these days. You two envied Eddie getting to stay home, as he could do his work from home.

So when the phone started ringing at 6 in the morning, you had wiggle your way out of Steve's and Eddie's hold, as they weren't bothering to get up for it.

Answering it, it was your boss saying that the office was closed today due to the moment of snow that had fallen, and would keep everyone updated on the next few days.

Once that was over with, you snuggled back into bed, knowing you didn't have to go work.

Steve woke up hour later, looked outside at the moment of snow and decided nope, he wasn't going into day, as the street weren't ploughed, and he wasn't gonna risked it, so he called up and said he wouldn't be in.

So all three of you had at least an extra hour of sleep, before your body was like "time to wake to up". So grabbing a dressing gown, you head downstairs and started to make a pot of coffee before grabbing things from fridge to begin breakfast.

Steve was down a little while later after you, a kiss on the cheek as he poured coffee into cup and let the dogs out into the garden to do their business.

Eddie was still half a sleep as he came down, when the food was being dished up and wrapped his arms around you, not really comprehending that you and Steve were still home.

Once at the table and with coffee in him, you could see the wheels in his brain was starting to turn as he looked you both and then clock then back you both, before saying shouldn't you twobe at work.

You both just smiled at him but didn't say anything but you did watch as his mind went into overdrive, as to why you both still home, when neither of you were sick

For the rest of the morning, you and Steve just watched Eddie as he typed away on the computer, working on his book, as he had a deadline coming up soon. While he working he was lost in his own world, so you and Steve were able to watch him in element, seeing him absentminded put pens and pencils in his the mess bun he had going on, with the top of his tongue poking out.

After lunch and having dragged Eddie away from his work for the afternoon, you got them both to join you on a walk. During the walk you had gotten them both with snowballs in the back of the head, and soon they were making snowballs and throwing them at you.

You used Steve as a shield, when Eddie was throwing a ball at you, what made Steve then turn on him. You were crackling to yourself as you watched them fight against each other before they turned their attention back to you.

They quickly caught and picked you up, as they threw you in the a deep snow pile, and you could feel some snow go down your back, as you stood up.

You pouted at them as you made more snowball, and for the next couple of hours you just all just played in the snow, forgetting that you were all actually adult.

Arriving back home, all cheeks and noses were red, fingers were stiff and cold from snow, so all outer layers were hung up as you all stood in front of the fire place warming your hands up.

While neither men were paying attention, you put your still quite cold hands under their tops and on to their lower backs, then watched as they both recoiled from your touch with audio gasp.

This time they decided to get their pay back by dragging you to the floor and tickling you merciless, only stopping when you couldn't breath anymore.

While snow days were rare treat, they were still as exciting and fun, as you remembered, and getting have Steve at home to enjoy it as well, was the cherry on top.