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primroseparker · 1 year

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i'll put us back together at heart - s.h.

Summary: It's 1987. You haven't spoken to Steve Harrington in nearly five years. Then Dustin Henderson tells you about a sweet deal he has at Family Video, where he can rent any video he wants.

Pairing: ex-best friend!Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word count: 8.8k

Warnings/tags: friends to strangers to lovers. the reader is twenty in 1987 and i technically made steve twenty-one/about to turn twenty-one. s4 happened but eddie's alive and vecna's dead. no earthquakes or anything like that; reader has no idea about what really happened. lots of angst, mentions of billy hargrove (yuck) and steve's s1 asshole friends.

A/N: oh my lord. i don't know where this eighteen-wheeler of a fic came from but here it is. there is a happy ending, not to worry. i'd never do that to y'all <3 feedback and reblogs are always always appreciated!

divider by firefly-graphics

August 1981

"I wish we could stay eighth graders forever."

You lift your head from your orange pool floaty. Steve drifts on the surface of the water. His hair is longer, way longer than you've seen it in the three years you've been friends. He says it's better for styling that way; he's even bought a gel and cream for his hair. You don't understand why he wants to change something that doesn't need changing.

"Why?" you ask. "I thought you were excited for high school."

He hums. The sound echoes in his backyard.

"It's bigger than middle school. More kids, more teachers, more work. I like eighth grade."

"I'll help you with your work," you say.

Steve turns his head and smiles at you. Part of his face is in the water, the image distorted.

"You'll do great," he replies. "You're so smart."

Steve doesn't say those things to get you to help him like other kids do. Steve means it.

"You'll do great too," you say. "You're funny and nice and my best friend. People will like you."

"You think?"

You nod. Steve turns his head and closes his eyes again.

"We'll stay friends, right?" he asks.

The floaty squeaks as you move to sit up. You paddle to Steve so you can look at his face.

"Why wouldn't we?"

"I dunno." His eyes are still closed. "You might make super smart friends. And I'll just be a dumbass holding you back."

You shove Steve's shoulder lightly.

"You are not dumb, Steve."

One muggy June night had had Steve admit he wasn't thirteen, like you and all the kids in your class, but fourteen. He had been held back in third grade after his parents moved from Illinois. It's why my brain's mush, he'd said. I was born dumb.

He had made you swear not to tell anyone.

"You're not dumb," you say again. "Say it, Steve. Say you're not dumb."

His frown deepens, but he still won't look at you.

"Tommy says I am."

"Tommy Hagan is a shithead," you shoot back with so much venom, Steve's eyes fly open. "It's not true, whatever he tells you."

You hate that they've been hanging out more this summer. You can't tell Steve that, because it's not like you own him. He can be friends with whoever he wants. But you can't help that your skin crawls when Tommy and his stupid girlfriend, Carol, drops by and pulls Steve away from you.

“Promise?” he asks.

“Yes, Steve. I promise.”

“‘Kay.” Steve smiles a little. “Thanks.”

You nod and lay back on the floaty.

“Wanna get ice cream after this?” he asks.

“Just us?”

“Just us.”

Now. (January, 1987)

You slam the phone back onto the receiver. A girl playing Pac-Man carefully glances at you.

Whoops. Right. You're still at work.

You smile and give a thumbs-up. She turns around. You return to your wallowing.

You’ve called three different video rentals. Jewel Films, which is about to go out of business; More Movies, whose attendant hung up on you before you could say Molly Ringwald; and finally, Blockbuster, which is thirty minutes outside of Hawkins. None of them have a copy of Pretty in Pink.

And okay. You could just watch another movie. You don't need that specific one. But this year has been shit. You'd thought after starting college, you'd finally break out of the Hawkins forcefield that had limited your social life. You'd thought you'd make friends and not be so terribly lonely. Life is supposed to get better after high school, isn’t it?

Obviously, whoever said that is a big, fat liar.

“Dude!” you hear a familiar voice exclaim. “Stop hogging the game!”

Tawny curls peek from under a green and yellow hat. The hat hovers over an older boy who’s glued to the Tempest booth. You go to them. Dustin Henderson lights up when he sees you. You can read his hat now; it says Camp Know Where ‘85.

“Hey, Y/N!” he greets brightly. “This guy has been here for a half hour. I left to get nachos and when I came back, he was still here.”

“I’m this close to beating my score!” the kid insists.

“Come on, guy," you say, one arm on the machine. "You gotta give other people a turn."

The kid, evidently demon incarnate, sneers at you.

“Who’s gonna make me? You?”

You lean against the side of the game, considering.

“How old are you?”

“Sixteen,” he says.

You snort.

“Sixteen? And you’re still on Tempest?”

He glances at you.

“So?”

“Everybody your age is playing Rampage, that’s all.”

You wink at Dustin. He beams.

“And, uh, I saw a couple girls hanging around Rampage,” you add.

The kid turns to you. You tilt your head innocently.

“Seriously?” he asks.

“Seriously. People always flock to the new games.”

Which is true. The girls part is not, but he doesn’t need to know that. With that attitude, he won't be getting many phone numbers anyway.

You drum your fingers on the game like you have all the time in the world. And sure enough, the kid takes his quarters and heads towards Rampage. Dustin jumps in delight.

“You’re awesome, Y/N!"

You grin. “I try. Where are the others?”

Dustin sours.

“They ditched me. To hang out with their girlfriends! Can you believe that shit?”

“No way!"

He shakes his head.

“I know, right? My friend told me that that’s what happens in high school. People change, y’know? And he’d know, I guess. He’s old like you.”

You scoff. “You make me sound like some kind of ancient. I’m not that old, Henderson.”

“It’s okay, Y/N.” He pats your arm. “In many cultures, the elderly are wise. Now in my experience, this hasn’t been the case. But I think you’re wise.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Dustin smiles like the little shit he is and puts his change in the slot.

“Well, contrary to what this other friend says, I’m sure it’ll pass,” you say. “You guys will hang out again."

You swallow your acidic truth. Dustin's a good kid, and so are his friends. You don't want him to turn cynical like you have. He's too young.

Dustin shrugs, starting the game.

“I guess so. I got a copy of The Lost Boys for us to watch on Friday. They said they’ll be there.”

“Whoa, seriously? That one just came out, how’d you get a copy?”

“My friend,” he says. “The one I mentioned. He works at Family Video and reserves stuff for me.”

“Huh. I thought Family Video was closed."

You'd applied to work there last year and never got a call back. You'd gone by once and it had looked abandoned. Hence why you now work at the arcade across town.

"It almost did, but Keith took over so now it's barely scraping by."

"Ah. Sweet deal on the movies."

“Yeah,” Dustin agrees, eyes crinkling. “My friend's pretty cool. You'd like him."

"Would I now?"

"Absolutely," he gushes. "He's a total badass too. He won his first fight last year. He used to be a jock but he's recovered."

"Wow. Impressive."

"Mmhm. I could ask him to hold stuff for you too, if you wanted.”

“You would?”

The game makes a sad game over noise. Dustin sighs and takes a gulp of his slushie.

“Yeah, totally,” he says through a mouthful of blue raspberry ice. “Which one do you want?”

“Pretty in Pink? I missed it in theaters."

“Sure. I’ll tell him to hold it tonight and tomorrow you can pick it up.”

“Cool. Thanks, Dustin.”

Dustin gives you an apple-cheeked grin.

“Gotta stay in good graces with the arcade attendant who lets me play Tempest as long as I want.”

"I don't know what you're talking about," you say, walking away. "Don't get slushie on the game."

"'Kay!"

Dustin only gets a little bit of slushie on the game, but he cleans it up with about a million of the cheap snack bar napkins. When he leaves, he tells you to mention his name at Family.

"Who do I ask for?"

"You can talk to either of them," Dustin says. "Doesn't matter. Except Keith. You know Keith, right?"

"Unfortunately.” Keith used to terrorize the arcade before he blessedly moved on. “He works there?"

"Barely." Dustin scoffs. "He's almost never there, so don't worry. And feel free to ask for more movies. They owe me one."

Your sole interactions are with professors and a gaggle of high school freshmen. But now you get to watch any movie you want. Maybe this year won't totally suck.

The bell rings pleasantly as you step inside. There's a few people on line, so you take your time walking in. There's a movie display with about thirty copies of RoboCop. A cardboard cutout of RoboCop stares back behind his red helmet.

"Can I help who's next?"

You go to the counter. A girl about your age with a choppy haircut smiles at you but it's sort of strained. She has a pin on her green work vest that says Ask me!

"Please don't ask for Adventures in Babysitting," she says.

"Oh. No, I'm, uh, Dustin's friend?"

You can't believe you're name-dropping a high schooler.

She nods in realization.

"Oh, yeah. God, I keep telling that dweeb not to promise holds."

You wince.

"Sorry. If it's going to get you in trouble…"

Her brows raise. She smiles a bit.

"No, it's okay. Usually my coworker deals with it but, well. He's taking an extra long break today. So, what movie was it?"

"Pretty in Pink," you say.

"Classic," she replies. "John Hughes fan?"

"Somewhat. I didn't get to see it in theaters. I like Molly Ringwald."

She grins.

"Me too. She's pretty."

"Super pretty," you agree.

The girl considers you, then sticks out her hand.

"I'm Robin," she says. "Nice to meet you."

You take her hand. "Y/N.”

"Did you go to Hawkins High?"

"I did. Graduated last year."

"Oh, cool. Are you in college?"

You nod.

"Hawkins State. Twenty minutes from here."

"Sweet! I'm taking a gap year, but afterwards, I’m gonna apply there. It's cheap. College is college, right?"

"College is college," you agree. "But I wish I'd gone away for school."

You don't know why you're telling her this. You've known Robin for all of two minutes. But she seems friendly. And her sense of style is cool. She wears a blue blazer and tie underneath her vest.

"How come?" she asks.

"Everybody from Hawkins is there," you say. "And I… I just want a new start."

Robin smiles sympathetically.

"They're jerks," she says.

You huff. "Yeah."

You'd turned yourself into a social recluse a million years ago. It's your own damn fault you can't befriend anybody in this town. At least, not anymore.

Robin types into the computer, then smacks the monitor. She groans.

"Ugh. Gimme a second," she says. "Stupid technology."

"No problem," you say, smiling. You like her. Maybe you can integrate Family Video into your regular routine, become friends. You can see Robin becoming a good friend. One you wouldn't grow apart from.

She disappears into the back room. You browse the old releases and stop at Die Hard. This one you saw in theaters. John McClane is a badass.

You think of Dustin, and his supposedly badass new friend. It's too bad you didn't meet today. Dustin has a good sense about people. If he says so, it's possible you and this friend really would get on.

The bell rings again. You're slow to look up. The entrance is empty when you do. You keep reading about John McClane's adventures.

"Have you been waiting long?"

You turn at the new voice. The video slips out of your hand and clatters onto the counter.

Steve’s hair has grown since you last saw it. He looks different too, though he has yet to break out of his signature church boy polos. There's a smattering of stubble on his jaw. His arms are lean with muscle. He wears a matching work vest like Robin's, name tag printed Steve in blocky font.

He looks at where you've dropped Die Hard and smiles.

"This is a good one," he says. "John McClane is a total badass."

You blink.

"Did you want to rent that one?" he continues, meeting your eye.

"No," you manage.

"Okay, no problem. Just browsing?"

He doesn't remember you.

You stare and stare. Steve leans in, concerned. He's changed, but he hasn't. He's still handsome with his swoopy hair and big, dark eyes, but the Steve you knew wouldn't have been caught dead working at a video store.

And he doesn't remember you.

"Are you okay?" he asks, sounding genuine.

You take a step back from the counter. The blood roars in your ears. Robin comes back in, Pretty in Pink in hand. She looks at you, then at Steve.

"Got it!" she tells you. "Computer should work now."

"I have to go," you say.

You don't look at Steve again, instead focusing on Robin.

Her brows rise.

"Oh. Is everything—"

"I forgot my wallet," you blurt. "I can't pay for the movie. Sorry."

"That's okay, we can just—"

You run. The bell chimes over her words. You keep running until you get to the bus stop, three blocks away.

Only there do you stop to catch your breath.

And then you cry.

February 1982

"What do you think about Marie?"

You look up from your textbook. Steve is doodling in the margins of his notes. You gently prod his arm. He returns to reading but his leg starts to bounce under the table.

"Marie Iverson?" you ask.

"Yeah."

Steve glances at you. He pushes his hair back. It had taken him freshman year to get his bearings with all the gels and creams, but now, his hair is a point of pride, always perfectly coiffed. Seniors call him "The Hair" and high-five him in the hallway. You hate it.

"I don't know. I don't know her that well."

"She's cute."

"I guess so," you say.

It's harder to get Steve to focus on homework these days. Last year, he happily made flashcards with you and even bought fancy gel pens to share for your notes. Now, he prefers to talk about girls or—

"I was thinking of asking her out."

The tip of your pencil breaks. You really ought to start using pens, but you don't like being unable to erase.

"Shit, here. Take mine."

Steve offers his still perfectly sharpened pencil. You stare at it.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah." You take the pencil. "Thanks."

"Sure. So what do you think?"

"I don't know, Steve. I thought you talked about this stuff with Tommy."

"I would, it's just…" Steve shifts uncomfortably. "He can be rude about it sometimes. He doesn't even get why we're friends, y'know? Doesn't understand why I don't just date you."

Tommy is a moron, but you've said that since last year, and Steve's never listened before.

"Some people don't get it," you say mildly, because you have an upcoming French test and there's no use in getting upset over Tommy Hagan right now.

"But you do. And you know about this stuff better than me. Girls and all."

"Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I know what girls are best for you to date, Steve. It's weird to talk about."

Steve deflates.

"Oh. Yeah, I guess so. Sorry."

You sigh and rub your temple.

"I thought you knew all about that," you say, extending an olive branch. "Asking girls out and stuff."

"Well, I mean, I've kissed girls but I've never… you're, like, the only girl I really know."

Something like pride swells in your chest. Selfishly, you want to keep Steve. You don't want to help him if it means losing him. Oh, you're so greedy, aren't you? You watch Steve run off with Tommy and Carol and nameless seniors and seethe, because Steve was yours first. Steve is yours.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah." You give him back his pencil and fish for another one in your bag. "Did you ever think about writing how you feel?"

"Writing?"

"Yeah, like a poem or a letter."

"I'm terrible at writing," Steve laments. "The letters get all jumbled and I never spell a damn thing right."

He'd told his mom once how letters melt into each other, how b's become d's. She'd taken him to get his eyes checked, and when the doctor said Steve was fine, Deborah Harrington had told her son to stop begging for attention.

"Someone who really likes you won't care about spelling mistakes, Steve," you tell him. "As long as you write from the heart. Don't do that cheesy shit and quote Romeo and Juliet. They're young, impulsive, and they die at the end, and that's not romantic."

Steve laughs, nose scrunched.

"What!" you demand. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, 's just—of course you'd have something to say about quoting Shakespeare."

"It's overdone," you say, crinkling your nose. "And girls would much rather read your own words."

"So you think I should write Marie a letter?"

"If you really like her," you say. "Only write letters for girls you really like. Otherwise they lose their meaning."

Steve frowns. "I don't know if I should write her a letter, then."

Don't, you want to say. Don't write any of them letters.

You shuffle your papers into a stack.

"Can we study now?" you ask.

"Oh, sure, yes. Sorry."

"You don't have to keep apologizing, Steve."

He shifts closer to you. His leg has stopped bouncing.

"Lemme take you out," he says.

You nearly swallow your tongue.

"Wh��what?"

"For ice cream," Steve clarifies. "Like we used to. Dairy Queen."

"Oh. Okay, sure. But after we study."

Steve beams. "I'll drive you."

Steve's dad had bought him the BMW as a birthday present this year—not that Richard Harrington actually knows when his own son's birthday is, considering the gift was three months early. Still, it's another point of pride for Steve and about all anybody talks about whenever his name comes up. Steve is the only person in your grade with a car. Junior girls hit him up for rides. You make yourself scarce when they do.

You don't care. You liked Steve before the car. And the clothes. And the hair.

Your throat feels tight. You want your best friend back.

"Just us?" you check.

You can't tell these days. Steve seems to hang out with everybody but you. You're shocked he'd even asked to study together.

"Oh, sure," Steve says. "I just have to drop off Tommy and Carol first, okay?"

You check your watch and close your book.

"I have class," you lie. "I'll see you later."

Steve catches your wrist. He looks at you and you're struck by how sweet his face is. It's not like you didn't understand why girls want him but it's Steve. Your Steve, who still sleeps with a nightlight and who framed a picture of a sports car he cut out from a magazine because he'd thought it would make him cooler (it didn't. You still tease him about it.)

"Please," he says. "For helping me."

Your eyes slit. "I didn't help you to get stuff, Steve. I helped you because you're my friend."

Steve blinks like he's forgotten what it's like to be friends with someone just for the sake of being friends.

"You're right," he agrees. "You're not like that. I'll tell Tommy and Carol to find another ride. It'll be just us. I promise."

You perk up at that. "Really?"

"Really. You can sit in the front with me and we'll play Bruce Springsteen, like we used to. Please?"

"Okay, Steve." You ache. You’ve never been very good at telling him no. "I'll meet you in the parking lot."

And maybe… maybe your best friend is still in there after all.

Now

You ask your shift manager if you can work at the snack bar today. It's in the back and you won't have to deal with any game hogs.

"You didn't put enough syrup in my slushie."

You might have overshot the perks, though.

Slushie Girl's hair is bleach blonde and hairsprayed to God. You want to tell her that all that hairspray doesn't keep friends. Or brain synapses.

"I don't make the slushie," you say for the third time. "That's how it comes out of the machine."

She shoots you a mean look.

"I'm complaining to the manager."

You paste on a smile.

"You do that. Have a nice day."

She finally walks away, probably on the hunt for your manager, who's definitely smoking a joint outside to avoid this exact situation.

Dustin comes around the corner and this time, he's with the rest of his party. You smile.

"Hey, Y/N!" Dustin greets.

Lucas waves at you. Max and Mike are arguing and therefore are in their own world. And there's their newest addition, El, whose story you're still not clear on, as well as Will, quiet as always.

You lean your elbows on the countertop.

"What'll it be, gang?"

"Six nachos and six slushies, please. One blue raspberry, three cherry, and two Coke."

You fill up the slushies first. Dustin dances on his toes.

"So did you pick up the movie?" he asks.

"Oh." You try to smile. "I went there but I couldn't. I forgot my money. Pretty dumb of me."

Dustin accepts this with no argument.

"Well, you can go back. They'll hold it for a few days."

You're never setting foot in there again, but you don't tell Dustin that.

He takes his slushie and immediately starts drinking.

"Slow down, dude. You'll get a brain freeze," you say.

"You sound like Steve," Dustin informs you. "Doesn't Y/N sound like Steve?"

Lucas nods.

"Yup. They're both parents."

You feel queasy. You focus on making the nachos, the cheese pouring out thick and gooey.

"Did you meet Steve?" Dustin asks. "You probably know him from high school, but he's different now."

"Yes," you say quietly. "I knew him."

"I promise he's different. Even Mike likes him, and Mike hated his guts. Right, Mike?"

Mike pauses in his animated discussion with Max and looks at you.

"What?"

"I'm telling Y/N about how Steve is cool now," Dustin explains.

"Oh." Mike shrugs. "He's fine. Much better now that he's not dating my sister."

"He's not?" you ask. "But they were in love. I–I mean, that's what I heard, at least."

"She dumped his ass," El says, and it sounds a little ridiculous in her soft monotone.

Max scoffs, taking her Coke slushie.

"Did you live under a rock? It was a huge thing."

"Now Steve is lame," Mike says with a snort.

"Getting dumped doesn't make somebody lame," you say with an old ferocity you'd thought had disappeared.

"Okay, jeez." Mike holds up his hands. "Steve's alright. He's different, that's for sure."

"He's our paladin," Lucas says. "A protector."

Dustin nods eagerly.

You blink. "He protects you guys?"

Max elbows Lucas. You have no idea what that's about. El steps forward and smiles softly.

"Yes," she says. "He's our babysitter."

"Aren't you guys freshmen? I thought you were too old for babysitters."

"Oh no, Steve doesn't get paid for it or anything," says Mike. "He just does it 'cause he has nothing else to do."

"That's not true!" Dustin argues. Then he shrugs. "Well, it's a little true. But he does like us. He's a good guy. He cares about his friends."

You bite your tongue, not wanting to reply to that.

"That's great, guys. The girl, Robin? She seems pretty cool too."

"That's Steve's best friend," says Dustin. "She's great."

"Oh." You wince. "Best friend?"

Dustin huffs. “Yeah. They don’t date. He won’t say why."

"Platonic with a capital P," Max confirms. “It’s obviously because he’s in love with somebody else.”

“Not Nancy!” Lucas protests.

“There are other girls besides Nancy, Sinclair.”

You busy yourself with serving the last set of nachos. The kids pull out crumpled bills and coins in return. You count the money and stack it directly into the register; you know there won't be any change.

When you turn, they're still there. Dustin has his signature grin on, eyes squinty.

"Yeees," you drag out. "Can I help you?"

"We need a favor," Lucas says. "Please."

"Hmm." You lean over the counter. "What's up?"

"They're showing Prince of Darkness on Friday," Dustin explains. "But it's rated R."

"So just sneak in. Isn't that what you guys did at Starcourt?" you ask.

"We had an inside man then. They're a lot stricter at the new one," Lucas frowns. "They ask for IDs 'cause some mom complained after her kid snuck in to watch Risky Business."

"And why can't your babysitter take you?"

You sneer at the thought. Steve spending his Friday nights herding a bunch of adolescent teens into a movie theater. There's a reason you consider Dustin affectionately delusional.

"He has a stupid date," Dustin groans. "He's a serial dater, Y/N. It's terrible. He gets lucky once and totally ditches us."

Now that sounds like the Steve you knew.

"I see. I don't really like horror stuff."

"You don't have to stay!" Dustin insists. "You can watch whatever you want after we’re in. I'll pay you back for the ticket."

“This would be so much easier if Steve still worked at Scoops,” Mike grumbles.

You blank for a moment, the image of Steve in a sailor’s hat and those ridiculous shorts whiting your brain.

“Um,” you begin. “You know I don’t have a fancy BMW to cart you guys around in, right?”

“It’s cool. We’ll get there,” Max says.

“So?” Dustin bounces on his toes. “Sooo?”

You sigh. It’d been nice of Dustin to get you the movie, even though you’d chickened out and ran. And it’s not like you have anything better to do.

“Okay,” you say. “I’ll get you guys in.”

Dustin pumps his fist. “Thanks, Y/N! You’re my favorite old person.”

You roll your eyes. “Funny. Any funnier, and I might rescind my help, Henderson.”

“Byeeee!”

They all disperse to the arcade. You wonder how on earth Steve got involved with them.

March 1983

“Okay, but if you had to choose.”

“Pass. I would literally rather swallow pennies than kiss Principal Coleman’s bald-ass head, Steve.”

Steve takes a triumphant swig of beer. “So you’re saying you’ve got the hots for Benny the janitor.”

“No!” you insist through giggles. “I don’t. God, you’re gross. Can’t believe I’m being treated like this on your birthday.”

“Exactly! My birthday.”

He rolls onto his side in his deck chair and nearly faceplants on the cement. You reach out, reaction time delayed.

“Steve!” you yell. “Careful.”

“I am, I am,” he mumbles, and rights himself on the chair. “Jus’ wanna see you better.”

“I keep telling you you need glasses.”

“I do not,” he whines. “My vision’s ten outta ten. Could a guy who needs glasses do this?”

He crumples up a Twinkies wrapper and throws it towards the garbage. The wind picks up and sends the wrapped into the pool.

“Shit,” he says.

You belly laugh in delight.

“Wait, wait, redo. Go fish it outta there.”

“Oh, as if. I’m not going in there. I told you you need glasses. Even Mother Nature agrees.”

"She does not. Mother Nature thinks I'm a doll."

You hum and close your eyes. Alcohol always makes you sleepy.

The chair scrapes against the concrete. You hear a crinkle of a chip bag. Those are your only warning before you’re crushed by two hundred pounds of drunk boy.

“Steve!” You wheeze, squirming as his hair tickles your face. “Get off!”

"’M sleepy,” he mumbles.

“Well, don't sleep on me, weirdo.”

“‘S cold.”

“You run, like, a hundred degrees, don’t lie.”

He lifts his head. “So you’re saying I’m hot?”

“I’m saying all that booze cooked your brain,” you reply sweetly.

“I’ve been wounded,” he moans and plops onto your shoulder.

“Ugh.” You resign to your fate and lean back. Steve’s not actually that heavy; even drunk, he has a lot of control over his weight and he’s situated himself so he isn’t crushing anything important. No, you squirm underneath him for a very different reason.

“Steeeeve,” you whine. “You’re gonna squish me into a pancake.”

“Can’t believe no one else came.”

You still. Steve’s face remains buried in your shoulder. His body is beside yours, and he has an arm slung over your belly.

“I didn’t—didn’t want a party,” he continues. “I always throw parties. I thought I’d do somethin’ different. An’ none of them even wished me a happy birthday. ‘Cept you.”

You rest your hand on the back of his hair. It’s wind-blown and messy from the drinks, free of his heady hair gel. You’ve never loved it more.

“Did you tell them your birthday is today?” you ask gently, even though you know he did.

“Yeah,” he says. “Told all of ‘em. Guess they weren’t listening.”

“I listen.”

Steve looks up at you. His eyes are glassy.

“God, I miss you,” he says.

You feel the wall you’ve built this year crumble, just a little.

“I’m right here, Steve.”

“I know but—been a jerk lately. I know I have. You’re my best friend, okay? Nothing’ll change that. I–I love you so much.”

Your breath hitches. Steve barrels on, not noticing.

“And I’ll be better. We’ll hang out more. Not–not here, drunk. But for real. We’ll go to the movies. Y’wanna see a movie?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I wanna see a movie.”

“‘Kay, what movie? Anything you want. We’ll get popcorn and Raisinets.”

“You hate Raisinets,” you choke through a watery laugh.

“I’d eat Raisinets anytime with you.”

You lay there, in the dark, the only sound being the pool filter.

“Let’s watch the new James Bond.”

“Hmm, okay. But you’ll have to say the name eventually.”

Your nose crinkles. “I am not calling it by its name.”

His laugh is warm in your neck.

You don’t tell Steve to get up again. He snuggles into you, leg over yours. You fall asleep like that, curled underneath him.

Now

“Wait.” Max stops. “Shouldn’t we have, like, a game plan?”

“Game plan?” El asks quietly.

“Yeah. Some of us aren’t so great at playing it cool.”

She stares at Lucas.

“I play it cool!” he squawks. “I am so cool!”

“Right.”

“Just let Y/N do the talking,” Will says. “She’s technically the adult so she should act like this is a conscious choice.”

You shrug. “Makes sense to me.”

Dustin beams. “This is gonna be great!”

“Or a total disaster,” Max says.

You go to the counter, the kids trailing behind like ducklings.

“Six tickets for Prince of Darkness, please,” you say. “And uh, one for Dirty Dancing.”

The attendant looks at you, then at the kids.

“Don’t you mean seven tickets for Prince of Darkness?” she asks. “It’s rated R.”

Shit. “Right, yes. Sorry. Seven tickets. And one for Dirty Dancing. We have another friend who’s late.”

“Uh-huh.”

The attendant, whose bored expression you’ve recognized on your own face after long days in the arcade, hands you your tickets without any questioning.

“I think we’re in the clear,” Lucas whispers when you enter the concession area.

You wait for them to buy their snacks. Max persuades Lucas to let her mix M&Ms into their bucket of popcorn. He agrees and shuffles closer so they’re pressed shoulder to shoulder while they share.

“Okay, last stretch,” Mike says, shoveling a frighteningly large handful of sour worms into his mouth. “We just have to get past the ticket guy.”

Said ticket guy is a kid who can’t be much older than you. You think you might’ve gone to school together, but you’ve made it a point to eviscerate everything about high school from your mind.

“Hey,” you say, trying to act cool. Maybe you’re the one Max should’ve been worried about, instead of Lucas. “Uh, here are our tickets.”

He takes the tickets, then looks behind you.

“Prince of Darkness is only for people seventeen and older,” he says.

“I’m an adult, so I’m with them,” you explain. “I’m, like, their guardian?”

“Yeah, uh—” He hands you your tickets. “No can do. There needs to be an adult for each person under seventeen.”

“Come on,” you cajole. “They’re high schoolers. It’s not like they’re gonna be scarred for life watching some zombies, or whatever.”

He shrugs. “Rules are rules.”

“She’s an adult!” Dustin argues.

“Look, if you’re gonna hold up the line, I’m gonna have to—”

“Yo, Gillespie! That you?”

Dustin turns and lights up. The seven of you part for Steve Harrington and his date, a pretty strawberry blonde you think you had biology with.

“Harrington, man, what’s up!”

Ticket Prick gets up to slam Steve into a bear hug. You barely resist an eye roll.

“Shit, I haven’t seen you in a year! Where’ve you been all this time? Hey, did you hear about that shit with Munson?”

Steve flinches. It’s a tiny movement, indiscernible to the trained eye. But it’s there all the same.

“Gillespie, c’mon. Don’t bring the party down with that,” Steve says, all sweet charm.

“Sorry, sorry. Daisy,” he greets the girl attached to Steve’s arm.

“Gil,” she replies with a giggle. “You smell like popcorn butter.”

America’s future taxpayers. Terrifying.

“Are you gonna let us in or not?” Max interrupts, arms folded.

You feel a burst of pride.

Gil shoots her a dirty glare and puffs up, ready to fight a fourteen year old. Steve cuts in smoothly.

“Gillespie, listen. I know her.” He points to you. You bristle. “I can personally vouch that she’s just trying to do right by these kids. They wanted to see Prince of Darkness, y’know? Get away from the parents.”

“It’s a sick film,” Gil agrees. “You seen it?”

No, of course Steve hadn’t seen it. He hates horror.

“Planning on it,” Steve says, the ultimate image of playing it cool. “Look, you remember sneaking into the movies. Fast Times? Ring any bells?”

Max rolls her eyes. You’re inclined to do the same.

Gil laughs dopily, and nudges Steve. “Hell yeah, I do. That was a crazy night, Harrington.”

Steve smiles thinly. “Sure was. So whaddya say? For old times’ sake?”

Gil considers your little troupe. Then he shrugs.

“Why not. Manager’s not here anyway.”

He takes the tickets and tears them to stubs, then gives them back.

“Theater six. On your left. Enjoy.”

The kids stampede into the left theater wing. You hang back with your own ticket.

“Appreciate it, man,” Steve says, all smiles. “Take care, alright?”

“Hey, you too, Harrington! We gotta catch up!”

Steve and Daisy go in. You expect them to walk right past you, and Daisy does, predictably. But Steve stops.

“I’ll catch up, okay?” he tells her. “Find us some good seats?”

She paws at him a little, then goes, sodas in hand. You stiffen as Steve walks and stops three feet away from you.

“Hey,” he says. “Sorry about that. Gil’s an asshole.”

“I know. He yawned during my poetry reading sophomore year. And then you guys went to the movies together.”

Steve shrinks. “Your poems were great.”

You’re suddenly exhausted.

“What do you want, Steve?”

“I just… I wanted to see you. Say hi.”

“Okay.” You cross your arms. “Hi.”

“You forgot your movie,” he says. “The other day.”

“I didn’t want it that much.”

“Dustin said you looked everywhere for it.”

“Well, in the end, it didn’t really matter,” you say. “Not enough to stay.”

“Y/N—”

“I think your date’s waiting for you,” you interrupt. “Better get back to her. Wouldn’t want to taint your reputation.”

Steve makes a noise like he’s been wounded. You turn on your heel before you can think better of it.

“Wait.” He catches your wrist. Steve’s grip is light, like you’re something precious to hold. You wrench your arm away. “Y/N, I want to apologize. I’m sorry.”

“For what?” you ask. “For forgetting me? I didn’t expect you to remember, Steve.”

“I didn’t forget you,” he insists. “I could never forget you. I wasn’t—please, can I just explain?”

“I don’t need your explanations,” you snap. The hurt corrodes your tongue like acid. “I know what happened. We were both there. You left.”

Steve’s eyes are huge and dark. He looks like you just stabbed him in the heart, and that makes you feel worse. You’d thought telling him how much it hurts would put you back together, but all it did was break you more.

So you run. Again.

You slam through a back exit and rip your ticket into a million pieces. The wind is cold and unforgiving. Your eyes sting.

You call out sick for two days in a row. You kind of expect to get fired, but then again, people have been leaving Hawkins and if you’re not here to serve the masses their slushies, who will be?

So, after lying in bed not thinking about movies and strawberry blonde girls and how sick you are of this town, you get up and put on your arcade vest.

Now it is two in the afternoon. You’d heard it was supposed to snow today.

Robin eyes the snack counter like it holds the next plague outbreak. You don't blame her; you make it a point to wash up to your elbows after work.

"Slushie?"

She looks at you like she’d forgotten you were there. "What?"

You point a thumb at the machine. "Are you here for a slushie?"

"Oh. No, sorry. Red dye makes me insane in the brain. Steve actually—"

Robin stops, grimaces. So he's told her. Probably everything, if the kids had been telling the truth.

You're honestly surprised she's here. Unless it’s to, like, swirlie you in the vat of artificial cheese.

"Are you here to drown me in nacho cheese?" you ask.

Robin's eyes go wide as dinner plates. "What? No!"

"Just checking." You lean against the counter. "What can I do for you, Robin?"

Robin suddenly looks like she's never interacted with a human being before. You like her a lot. Steve probably does too.

"I came to drop off your movie." She holds the tape over the counter like it's a pool of lava.

"But I didn't pay for it." You shove your hand in your jean pocket; you only have a couple dollars on you. "I guess I can get you the money tom—"

"It's on the house. For a fellow Molly fan."

Robin wiggles the tape with two fingers. You take it and wait for a catch. There is none.

"Thank you," you say. "You didn't have to do that."

"Actually, it wasn't me," she confesses. "I'm just the mailman."

You prepare to hand it back but Robin shakes her head.

"He's not going to pop out of the slushie machine, okay? He's just trying to make it up to you."

"He doesn't need to make it up to me," you bite, except those aren’t the words you mean. "Why does he even care? We're not in high school anymore."

Robin smiles a sad smile.

"I know," she says. "We’re not. I know he should've known to fix things earlier. He's received a lot of blows to the head, though, so he's still catching up."

The thought turns your stomach. More? More you weren’t there to protect him from?

"He doesn't owe me anything," you say and wave the tape again. "You can take it back and leave it for somebody else."

"Y/N, I know we don't know each other, like, at all. But it's important to me you know that Steve cares about you, because you’re important to him. And you knew him way before I did, and you probably know a lot of stuff I don't, and that's good because he has a friend like me, but he should also have a friend like you too, Y/N."

"I don't want to be his friend," you mumble.

"Yeah," Robin says. "I figured. But I don't think that's a confession he should hear secondhand."

You look at her, stunned. She's such a clever girl. You hope she treats Steve well.

"If you two are—"

"We're not," she says, like this is a regular explanation she goes through. "Steve and I are friends. Steve has crashed and burned with every single date since his fall from regency. Steve is the best person I've ever met."

"Yeah, I’ve heard. You and Dustin are his biggest fans."

Robin snorts. "Trust me, I'm not proud of it."

You shake your head. Your eyes feel hot.

"This town is so shit," you say.

"Yeah," Robin agrees. "It really fucking is. But I'm not asking you to give this town a second chance. Just him."

"Why are you trying so much?" you ask. "You don't even know me."

Robin shrugs. "No, but you're the one person Steve used to be friends with who's not an asshole, and I think us non-assholes need to band together."

"I can sometimes be an asshole."

"Me too. So are those little dweebs. How about calling ourselves the Semi-Assholes Club?"

You laugh. "We'll get jackets."

"With partially drawn butts on the backs," Robin says with a giggle.

You look at the tape in your hand.

"Does Steve like John Hughes?"

"He does. He's a total sap for those. He thinks he's in his own coming-of-age movie because he's delusional."

He sounds perfect. He sounds like the friend you loved.

"I did want to watch this one," you say.

"It won't hurt you to," Robin promises.

You suppose not.

December 1984

You don't believe the whispers. All week, the rumor mill spins tales of Billy Hargrove finally pushing the King off his throne. There's no way he'll show his face, a girl at the adjacent lunch table astutes. I sure as fuck wouldn't.

Steve Harrington is a loser. Steve Harrington got dumped for Jonathan Byers. Steve Harrington may as well be dead, and on and on.

Every line gets you angrier. A boy who sits behind you in chemistry taps his pencil like he always does. Tap, tap, tap.

Halfway through class, you snap at him to quit it. He does, but not without a tinge of embarrassment. You’re so angry this year. Angry at your loneliness, angry at the unfairness of said loneliness. You might’ve done this to yourself, and that fact only gets you angrier.

You see Nancy Wheeler in the hallways with Jonathan Byers, and the confirmation of that rumor should make you happy. It doesn't.

A week later, most of the excitement has died down. Everybody’s moved onto the next big thing, which is to deduce who fucked in Vice Principal White's office. One look at V.P. White, and it had been decided that it can't have been White himself.

You can't care less. Once upon a time you might’ve laughed about it with a friend, but you don't have any more of those, and high school is bullshit with or without them. So.

Steve walks in twenty five minutes into the period. Mrs. Kaplan gives him a downright beastly glare and demands to know where he had been.

"I'm sorry," is all he says. "If you give me detention, I understand."

There are a few snickers that rub at an old hurt, one that had flared up whenever somebody dared to make fun of your best friend. It doesn't bother me, he'd said, and you'd known it was a lie.

It bothers me, you’d replied, and Steve had hugged you tight.

Mrs. Kaplan seems more stunned Steve hadn't swaggered past her like a peacock escaped from the zoo and lets him go sit down without a fight. He takes the only empty desk, two rows across from you. You stare. You can't not.

Half of his face looks like it was mashed in a garbage disposal. It's purple and a sickly yellow. His eye and lip are still swollen. You stare and stare. You feel queasy.

Billy had done that. You're so angry. You think you might never get past this grief, this loss of a once permanent fixture in your life.

No one wished Steve a happy birthday this year, you realize out of nowhere.

You stare and stare and stare until Steve looks right back. You're blindsided by thick guilt, like blinking through a milkshake. And then the familiar curl of anger returns because why the fuck should you feel guilty? You aren't the one who fucked everything up, who mascerated this good thing. Steve did this to himself. Steve deserves to walk the halls alone. It's Steve's fault.

But when you look at him, at his raw wounds, at his bruised knuckles, you know that he already believes he deserves every punch Billy Hargrove gave him.

You hate Steve Harrington. But you really wish you'd been there to drive him to the hospital.

Now (And Forever)

The tape sits buried in your drawer for three days. You don’t know what Family Video’s return policy is, but you hope you’re not racking up late fees. You doubt name dropping Dustin will work again.

It’s Saturday when you decide to watch Pretty in Pink. You remove the video from its sleeve. An envelope falls out.

The front has your name printed in squished, loopy script. You remember January at Steve’s house, a stack of thank-you cards courtesy of his mother awaiting the Harringtons’ sign-off. Steve’s hand would cramp and you’d take over while he made grilled cheese for the both of you. Love, The Harringtons, and there was no love in that house, but you think maybe Steve loved enough to make up for it.

Hi, the letter begins. I hope you’re good. Robin told me you’re going to Hawkins State.

That’s fucking amazing. I’m so proud of you. Are you still writing poetry? I liked that one you wrote about the birds who shared a branch and kept each other warm. I still have it in my notebook in my room.

I’m sorry for the other night. I’m sorry for every night since freshman year, honestly. I’m kind of a dumbass, but you know that, so it doesn’t really excuse anything. I think I’ve actually lost brain cells since we drifted apart.

You crumple the corner, suddenly hot with anger. Who keeps telling him he’s dumb? You want names.

I didn’t forget you, you know. I got scared and I thought maybe I could ease into it, but then you recognized me and… well. I don’t blame you for running.

Anyway. I’m talking too much about myself, when there’s nothing to say. I’m really sorry about what I did, or, actually, what I didn’t do. Somebody told me I was living on autopilot, and that it wasn’t really living at all. I think it was you.

I’m not living on autopilot anymore. I woke up. And I realized that you’re the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to me. I love Robin and the kids and this little family that has apparently invayd invaded your life too. Sorry about that. They never leave and they eat all your food. Good luck.

But I miss you. I always have.

Shit happened these last few years that I’ll tell you about one day, if you want. I’d rather not, though, because you’ve always been the paranoiac (like that one? Robin said it’s an SAT word) of the two of us and I feel like this would just make you even more of one. But I will tell you, if you want to hear it. I want to tell you everything. I want you to tell me everything too. Like we used to.

I want you to tell me how college is going. Who the annoying jerks in your classes are so I can go beat them up (kidding). I want you to stop by to rent movies so I can lend them for free and you’ll yell at me about taking advantage of fre friendships.

Fuck, I miss you. It’s always been there, bubbling below the surface. I never stopped missing you. I never stopped loving you. I’m sorry I didn’t write this sooner. I know you said writing is how we express things we can’t say. You were right. You always are. Can’t believe I forgot that.

It’s okay if you don’t want to be friends. I mean, it hurts, but I respect it. I understand. Most days, I can’t believe people can bear to be around me. But then I hear your voice in my head, telling me that most people are shitheads and that I’m golden and. Well, I don’t know if I believe that, but you were right that most of the people I surrounded myself with were shitheads. Except you, of course. And then I went ahead and fucked that up.

I’ve been working on finding the non-shitheads of the world. I think I’m doing pretty well. And I wrote this because I realized that while I will probably end up buried in this fucking town, you’re going to do something incredible. And nothing incredible ever happens in Hawkins, so I figure you’ll be far away when you do it.

I didn’t want to miss this chance to write things I never said. So here they are. And you can do whatever you want with them. You’ve always been the best of the two of us. I trust you.

You should watch Dirty Dancing. You’ll like it. I did. I’ll see it again if you want. I’ll watch anything with you.

Did you know there’s another Bond movie coming out in the summer? We could watch that one together too. If you wanted more time to decide.

Sincer

Your friend,

Steve

You don’t bother ejecting the tape. You run all the way to the bus stop, Steve’s letter in hand.

You have to see him. No other thoughts register except that one. You have to know if Steve wrote these words because he can’t say them or because you won’t listen.

It isn’t too late when you get to Loch Nora. The neighborhood is dead, which is weird. Steve’s house looks frozen in time: his parents’ car isn’t in the driveway. You wonder if they’ve ever come back since you’ve been gone. You wouldn't be surprised if the answer is no.

There’s a tarp over the pool. The gate is locked with a chain. You can’t sneak in through the fence like you used to. Not that you would. You don’t think strangers can sneak through pool gates.

You knock on the door three times. And wait.

Steve’s car is in the driveway, a duller burgundy than when he first got it. There are a few scratches in the paint. No longer a prized possession. Maybe well-loved instead.

The door swings open.

Steve says your name like a prayer. You swallow and steel your spine.

“I got your letter,” you say.

“Oh.” He rubs the back of his neck. His hair is damp like he’s just showered. It curls around his ears. Waves of want hit you.

“I don’t want to be friends,” you continue before he can speak. “I don’t—I can’t do that again.”

Steve’s mouth draws into the saddest frown you’ve ever seen.

“Okay,” he says softly. “Thank you for telling me.”

“No.” You shake your head. “No, that’s not—I don’t mean it like that.”

His brows knit. “What?”

“I…” You pull out the letter and wave it. “Did you mean it? Do you love me?”

“Yes,” Steve whispers. It’s like a shout in the quiet street. “I meant it.”

“Like a friend?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“Will you love me like a friend forever?” you ask.

“Always.”

You squeeze your eyes shut.

“I love you as something more,” you blurt, watery. “I have for a long time.”

You hear the door shut. This is it: your heart on the line, all for nothing—

“Then I’ll love you as something more back,” Steve says. “I’ll love you any way you want me to.”

And he holds you the way you’d held him so many times. You inhale and wrap your arms around his neck. You’ve got an iron grip around the letter. Tears slip down your cheeks.

“I missed you,” you confess.

Steve nods against your shoulder.

“Yeah,” he says, and it sounds a little wet. “I missed you too.”

“You were wrong,” you say into his neck.

“Hmm?”

You pull back to look at Steve.

“Incredible things do happen in Hawkins.”

“Oh, yeah?” Steve smiles, cheeks blotchy. “Like what?”

“We found each other again.”

#steve harrington x you #fic recs #steve harrington x reader

6K notes · View notes

primroseparker · 1 year

Note

I’m giggling like a school girl because my favorite person on tumblr just reblogged my fic

AHHHH ily

hi hi!! how about some eddie angst where reader and him fight and he thinks it’s a small fight that’ll blow over, but after a few days of silence from reader he starts to panic thinking it’s the end of the relationship so he starts frantically apologizing and trying to make it right lol

Broken Promises || Eddie Munson x female!reader

Summary: After Eddie breaks his promise, you decide to give him the silent treatment for a few days after your fight. He begins worrying about his relationship with you and forms a plan to make things right with you.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: angst but fluff at the end

A/N: Hi! Thank you for requesting this, I enjoyed writing it so much!!

Of course he would forget, you think as you walk along Piney Wood Lane in a hurry. Eddie had promised to give you a ride from school since your car had refused to start this morning. When he first suggested the idea, you were hesitant to agree considering his recent behavior. He had been canceling dates without more than a brief, “I need to go over my next campaign tonight, but I’ll make it up to you tomorrow night!” or “Chrissy and a few other customers are expecting me later after school so I won’t be making it to movie night”

You were quick to reply with a “sure, it’s fine” which turned out to be useless since he was gone before the words had left your lips. At first, you didn’t make much of it because you had always been very understanding of Eddie’s hobbies and side business. You knew just how passionate he was about the Hellfire Club and how much he needed the money he made from his business. An extremely supportive girlfriend is what he called you. Yeah, you were supportive, but you also had your limits.

You agreed to his offer, hoping that he would actually keep it given that you had an important dinner to attend that night. A family dinner in which your sister’s boyfriend would finally pop the question. He had asked you to keep it a secret from everyone, Eddie included. Because of that, the only thing you had told Eddie after accepting his offer was that you had an important family dinner you could not be late to. He took your face in his hands, looked you straight in the eye and said, “I promise I’ll be there, sweetheart” as he gave you a soft kiss on the lips. How could you not believe him after that?

As you open your front door and stomp up the stairs to your room, tears begin falling down your cheeks. You frantically open your drawers to look for an outfit, sending shirts and skirts flying across the room. Once dressed for the special occasion, you walk down the stairs and begin setting up the room where the proposal would take place. You keep thinking about how pissed you are at Eddie as you decorate the living room. A soft knock brings your attention back. You put on a fake smile knowing that if your sister saw how sad you were, she would drop everything to make sure you were okay. As you open the door to greet your sister, you are met with those brown doe eyes that you love so much.

“I’m sorry, y/n,” Eddie says as he approaches you to give you a hug. You put up your hands on his chest to stop him, making it clear that you don’t want to be touched. He takes a step back, surprised by your resistance. “I had to stay late at school because Henderson just got his heart broken. The girl he liked rejected him when he asked her out, and he came to me crying and saying shit about not being worthy of anyone’s love.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s it,” you say as you roll your eyes and cross your arms in a defensive stance.

“I swear I’m not making it up, alright? You can even ask Wheeler since he was there with me as he too tried to comfort Dustin. I’m not—wait, did you actually walk home all the way from the school? It’s like thirty minutes away from here” he asks.

“Yeah, I did. Thanks for that by the way. You know, if you didn’t want to drive me you should’ve just said so,” you mutter as your eyes begin filling with tears.

“Y/n, please look at me,” Eddie murmurs as puts his hand on your cheek, waiting for you to look at him before he speaking again. “You have no idea how sorry I am for being such a shitty boyfriend these past few weeks. But I swear that I didn’t forget about you. I’ll pick you up every morning and drive you to school. I’ll even cancel all this week’s Fire Club meetings so that I can drive you back home. Forgive me?” he says with apologetic eyes.

God, you could never deny him anything when he gave you that look. Sure, you were still pissed, but you knew that you didn’t have it in you to continue this fight. You still had to keep it together for your sister’s proposal.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” you say as you give him a small smile. He returns it and bends down to kiss you. You pull away quickly, saying, “I’m sorry bub, but my family is going to be here any minute for our dinner.”

“Oh sorry, of course. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, alright? Have fun, sweetheart,” he smiles before giving you a quick peck on the lips and heading towards his ‘71 Chevy van. You give him a small wave as he pulls out of your driveway and drives off.

You turn back to your house and close your front door.

Why do I have to be so stupid? you think as you make the final touch-ups on the decorations.

I should’ve just told him to go away before slamming the door in his face. It’s like he doesn’t even care about me anymore. Thinking he can make all those broken promises go away by giving me that look of his, you scoff at the thought.

As the evening goes on, your sister’s proposal goes smoothly, just as you and your now future brother-in-law had planned. Unfortunately, you didn’t have time to do your hair and put on your makeup like you wanted to because of Eddie’s broken promise. Because of that, you shied away from taking too many pictures. As the night went on and celebratory drinks were passed around, your sister raved on about how in love she was with her now-fiancee. She talked about how kindhearted he was and how he always kept his promises. You grew more and more irritated as you remembered what Eddie had done. At the end of the night, you decided that you needed time away from him to calm down. You didn’t want to snap at him and turn your conversations into fights. So you made a plan—give him the silent treatment for a few days and then let him know what was bothering you so much. It seemed like a great idea, right?

—

Eddie makes sure to wake up extra early the next morning so he can be on time to pick you up. He puts a wide smile on his face as he knocks on your front door and waits for you to open it. When no one answers, he decides to knock again, then a third time when it also goes unanswered. Before knocking a fourth time, the door opens and he sees your mom staring at him as she wraps her nightgown around herself.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Mrs. Y/l/n,” he apologizes as his cheeks redden. “I’m supposed to pick up y/n today”

“She already left, Eddie,” your mom says in confusion. “She rode her bike to school this morning”

“I see,” he says, “well, I’m sorry for waking you up. Have a good day” as he heads back to his van.

He spends the rest of the day in confusion. He waits for you after each period, waits during lunch, and even waits after school, but you never show up. Could something else be wrong? Did you have to go home early because you weren’t feeling well? He decides to go to your house to check up on you, but unlike this morning, no one comes to the door. As the days go by, he begins to worry more about you. If you were sick, surely you would’ve called to let him know, right?

He spends all night thinking about it before putting everything together. You were tired of Eddie breaking his promises. His apology hadn’t been enough for you to forgive him, apparently. Maybe you were done with him; done with him letting you down time after time. Keeping your distance and silence might be your way of ending things with him, he thinks. Upon realizing this, his heart sinks as he realizes he might have just lost you forever all because he couldn’t put you first. Tears spring to his eyes, his heart breaking in two at the thought of you never speaking to him again.

I have to make things right, he thinks. I have to prove to her that I’ll never break any of my promises ever again.

As the sun begins to rise, he begins setting up a plan to win you back.

—

The next day school seems to drag on forever for both of you. You wanted nothing more than to go home and spend the rest of the day in your bed while you listened to your favorite cassette. Eddie on the other hand couldn’t wait for school to end so he could actually put his plan into action.

On the way home from school, you rode your bike while thinking about Eddie–wondering what he was up to today, how attractive his grunge look was, how soft his lips were, how good they would feel against your lips…you shake your head as if to clear your mind of anything to do with Eddie. You aren’t sure you are ready to forgive him just yet.

Then you catch sight of the all too familiar van in your driveway. You come to a stop right next to it, wondering what Eddie was doing at your house. He comes out of the vehicle; a bouquet of white tulips and purple hyacinths in one hand, and a white plastic bag in the other. He gives you a shy smile as he approaches you.

“What are you doing here, Eddie?” you question.

“You deserve an apology,” he sighs, “Actually, you deserve much more than that. I am so sorry, y/n. I know I’ve been putting everyone else before you and it shouldn’t be that way. I know how important promises are to you, yet I was still so careless with mine.”

He puts the bouquet and bag on the ground and takes your hands in his. “I need you to know that my intention was never to make you feel neglected, ignored, or whatever. I’ll do whatever it takes for you to forgive me. I’d be happy to beg if you’d like me to,” he confesses as he gives you that look that would make you forget about everything bad.

“Be serious, Eddie,” you laugh.

“Oh, I am,” he insists as he begins kneeling before you grab his forearm.

“Stop, you don’t have to do that, you know? Look, I’m sorry for ignoring you these past few days. I’ve just been really pissed at you for canceling on me without more than a half-ass apology.”

“I know and I’m really sorry for that. But you didn’t have to break up with me that way; you could have just told me instead of–”

“What are you talking about, you dork?” you interrupt his babbling. “We’re not broken up. I was just giving you the temporary silent treatment. As if you get rid of me that easily,” you snort with laughter.

“So you’re not breaking up with me?” he asks with a hopeful smile.

“No, I’m not.”

“Well that’s a relief,” he says as he lets out a huge breath; body slumping and losing its stiff posture.

“Well, I brought some things to make up for my bad behavior,” Eddie says as he picks up the flowers and bag from the ground. “Here, take a look at them,” he offers as he hands you the gifts.

“I had to go to the library to do some research, and it turns out white tulips and purple hyacinths represent forgiveness. And since I was hoping you would forgive me, these beautiful flowers seemed perfect for a situation like this one.”

“You, Eddie Munson—the guy always going off about how libraries are a waste of space and are incredibly boring—went to one to research the meaning of each flower?” you ask in surprise.

He grins, “Anything for my girl,” as he tilts your head up to meet his lips with yours. He pulls back with a wide smile and says, “Come on, look at what’s in the bag” as you open it and look at its contents.

“Pretty in Pink? I thought you hated that movie. Oh my god! Hostess Pudding Pies?!” you ask with wide eyes while grinning so hard your cheeks ache.

“Yeah well, that movie might not be my favorite but I know for sure that it’s yours. And yes, I bought you those disgusting so-called snacks you love so much too,” he chuckles.

He puts an arm around your shoulder and leads you to your house.

“No more broken promises, sweetheart,” he vows as he turns his head to kiss your temple. You giggle and wrap your arms around his waist.

—

Taglist: @k4makaze @lover4stpt2

3K notes · View notes

primroseparker · 1 year

Text

I’m barely seeing this because I’ve been away on a break, but tysm for including me 🥹💗 I’m happy to see you enjoyed it!

- 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐎𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐒!

𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 << >> 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵

𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐢’𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲. 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠.

𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐠!!!

𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐜 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 • 𝟖𝐭𝐡 𝐧𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐢𝐫 • @keeryshouse

you’re convinced you hate steve, and that he hates you right back. during your camping trip with friends, you find out just how wrong you’ve been.

𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬, 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐞 • @stevebabey

It didn’t matter that your best friend Robin claims he’s changed, you do not like Steve Harrington. He used to be egotistical, a player, an asshole — and you’re not in any hurry to believe he’s changed his ways.

𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞 • @upsidedownwithsteve

"you can be rough, I can take it." mean steve but sweet steve, just smut.

𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲 • @msgorillagripcoochie

you come over to family video after a halloween party and steve can't keep his hands off you? idk what this is tbh i was on drugs when i wrote this.

𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬 • @hawkins-losers

Steve wants to try something new. Unsurprisingly, it involves two of his favorite things: you and boobies

𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 • @angelulls

you never really understood why the whole of hawkins seemed to fall at steve harringtons feet, you prevented her heart from making any ridiculous jumps years ago, that is of course till the man himself seems to fall to his knees whenever you’re around.

𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 • @chervbs

steve begins to notice a little quirk that you possess only when you’re around him. while he was initially concerned, the reason behind it is sweeter than he could ever guess.

𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 (𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐞) • @robiin-buckley

Every time Steve gets hurt, you're there to help pick up the pieces; you just weren't expecting him to fall for you in the process.

𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐲 • @pasukiyo

steve and reader are fuucckkkkeddd upppp, bad writing lol, sex, bad jokes, potty humor lmao

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 • @lurkymurker

Your good friend Steve has managed to get you a job at Family Video over summer break. The long shifts aren’t so bad when they’re broken up by light-hearted jokes, small talk and coffee though it’s the silence that’ll get you in trouble. (You can hear it in the silence — you are in love.)

𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 • @judeswhore

steve’s been worried you’ve been pulling away because you’ve fallen out of love with him, but little did he know the secret you were trying to hide was something he’d been dreaming about forever

𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 • @farfromharry

You and Steve had terrible luck when it came to dating. It wasn’t until it was pointed out to you, that maybe that was because you were in love with your best friend.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 • @primroseparker

Physical touch was something you despised, but as always, Steve’s touch was the only exception. When he refuses to believe that you actually hate the whole concept of it, the kids come up with a plan to prove him wrong.

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐢𝐭 • @djokeeries

a drive-in showing of alien allows for an opportunity that neither steve or the reader are willing to pass by.

𝐚 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 • @forourmoons

your grandmother thought you were gonna marry that boy. you have to tell him, drunk and at midnight. a month after your break-up.

𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞, 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 • @huntingingoodwill

"let's get married." late night, whispered proposals, steve’s dream of having six daughters and general sappiness

𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 • @handful0fteeth

you’re going on your first date with steve harrington, and hours before he’s due to pick you up your best friend gives you some rather unsavory information.

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 • @stevebabey

You haven’t seen Steve in a few weeks, barely a couple phone-calls keeping your relationship beating. You assume the worst. Steve does his best to make it up to you.

𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 • @meadowscarlet

with a thrill of forbiddingness, your older brother's best friend, steve, fucks you against the wall while your brother is on the other side of it.

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 • @appocalipse

half certain your crush on steve harrington is in the past, you return to hawkins to attend your friends' graduation. however, an impulsive shared kiss later, things get a little out of hand and you realize you might be lying to yourself...

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 • @chervbs

you’re in love with your best friend, steve. steve is in love with you. you would think it’s simple, right? well, according to steve, you would be wrong.

𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 • @ahsokaismyqueen

Ever since Prom, Steve and you had been growing closer to crossing that line from friendship to something more. During a hot summer day, a little more of that line gets crossed.

𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 • @retrobutterflies

Steve runs his girlfriend a bath when she decides to walk through the rain to come see him. And he thinks she's crazy and stupid and undoubtedly endearing.

𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭? • @persage

It's a rainy night when Steve Harrington knocks on your door for help. This time, however, it has nothing to do with the upside down and its monsters but that doesn't make things any easier.

𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 • @harringtown

steve & reader are cuddlin’ on the couch and feelings are revealed (aka Steve gets his hair played with w a dash of friends to lovers)

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 • @kurtie4life96

Reader is pissed when she sees Steve "flirting" with another girl at one of his house parties. How will he handle it?

𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 • @mentalpolaroids

Reader and Steve spend a Friday night “babysitting” and they all end up falling asleep in the living room, only, nobody can get any sleep because Steve is snoring incredibly loud... Except for reader, who's completely used to it

𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞 • @idkmanijustwannawrite

steve visits you the next morning after you got far too drunk at his party, and feelings are shared.

𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲, 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲 • @djokeeries

after seeing a customer flirt with you, steve is less than confident. he decides to make sure you know what you two are.

𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 • @munsonsreputation

sometimes it's the little things that matter the most and make your heart melt. you and steve are no different...these are six times that the small acts of affection made your love for each other grow.

𝐩𝐬 • 𝘪 𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘶𝘱𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘴 ��𝘴 𝘪 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵.

𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘣𝘰𝘹 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘶𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘺. 𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪’𝘮 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 :)

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primroseparker · 2 years

Text

thank you so much for including me!! <3

Steve Harrington fic recs

~reblog when updated~

*=smut | !=angst | +=fluff

Stranger Things Masterlist

Main Masterlist

one-shot * by @jerry-hornes-foot

blurb + by @thewritingofamadwoman

may the forth be with you + by @allthingsfangirl101

hallway chats / part 2 by ^

best thing i never had ! by @hairrington

the only exception +(!) by @primroseparker

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primroseparker · 2 years

Note

this is just…perfect. absolutely and completely perfect. hands down one of the best things I’ve read on here. the writing? superb. the plot? heart wrenching. I loved every single thing about this (makes sense since I looooove angst lmao). you did a wonderful job on this, congrats🥹 please tell me there will be a part 2!

What about an Eddie fic inspired from the songs august-cardigan-betty trilogy from Taylor Swift? Absolutely tragic but with a happy ending. (cause my heart can handle angsty angst but cant handle sad endings) 😭😭

OH MY GOD. I saw this and dropped all the drafts I was working on, and couldn’t stop typing away. This is for the swifties </3 this idea. Mwah! Thank you ! This may not be the happiest ending as I struggled with it but I tried lol <3

Warnings: Angst. Angst. Angst. Hurt/some Comfort. Implications of cheating. Breakups. Swearing. Eddie being a total fucking idiot. Rekindling a friendship/relationship. Sort of? Open ending.

“I saw them together.”

It felt like the air had been knocked from your lungs, throat constricting as you tried to swallow down the biting ache that racked through your body. Tears stinging in the corner of your eyes as robins voice continued to bleed in your ear, hands white from gripping onto the phone tightly.

Robins voice wavered, the way it always did when she was on the verge of breaking into her incoherent rambles. “He—at the party last night. Me and Steve caught them, in the kitchen and, it was a split second but still—I’m sorry y/n, I had to tell you. And—“

The name Augustine blurring along with the small details that Robin pushed out. The same name that was introduced to you when a new girl moved into town. Someone who quickly made her spot in Hellfire’s club when she arrived.

You could only mumble a small okay to your friend, quickly thanking her before ending the call that had destroyed your whole being.

The silence that followed was deafening. You couldn’t tell if Robin’s retelling of Eddie’s infidelity was worse than the emptiness that greeted you as you stared into the darkness of your room.

You glanced at your bed, the sight of the white cardigan that Eddie bought you months prior, when Hawkins was still suffering from the harsh winter. Everything hit once you numbly laid down and pulled the soft material against your chest.

The smell of Eddie’s cologne and the smoke that marked his scent breaks the dam, your sobbing cutting through the silence of the room.

He tugs the sleeve of your cardigan up your arm, other hand brushing against your skin, drawing lazily with his fingertips. You stare down at the textbook, trying to ignore the light kisses that followed where his fingers had marked.

“You’re distracting me.” You mumble, giving in to glance at the doe like eyes already boring their way into you. Regretting it immediately when his lips push into a teasing smile.

“So my plan is working.” He hums, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close, between his legs and against his chest. “I thought I would have to throw that textbook out the window.”

“I would have grabbed another one..” You giggle when he nudge your cheeks with his nose, his huff tickling against your chin. “And smacked you with it.”

“Ohhh so we playing dirty now?” He gasp, tugging on a piece of hair. “I’m up for the challenge.”

“Oh shut it.” His hands are pushed off your waist and you reach forward for the textbook he managed to kick away with his foot. “You realize we both should be studying for Ms .O’donells final.”

“Do we have to?” He groans, hiding his face against your shoulder. Eddie tugs on a loose thread on your cardigan, wrapping it around his finger as he enjoys the sound of your voice.

“Yes we do! We made a promise that you would graduate this year, and begin looking into colleges with me.” You poke his head.

“Who will accept someone who had to repeat senior year two times?“ he sighs, allowing you to turn around in his arms and face him.

“Come on, my grades aren’t that great either Eds. My GPA isn’t exactly that of a honor student.”

“Then why are we even stressing over it?” He watches you. “You been wearing yourself thin over this stuff. I mean, seriously. You told me that you didn’t care about any of that college crap before.”

You shrug, looking down at your sleeves as his voice softens. “Your parents again?”

That tugging sensation that accompanied the thoughts of your parents and their plans they placed on you, coming back. Eddie cups your cheek as he notes this. The gesture encouraging so you nod.

“They keep bringing up these fancy universities that I already know I won’t get into.” You sigh and lean against his chest. “I don’t even think I want to get into them.”

“Then what do you want?” He asks softly. “You, not your parents.”

“I don’t know.” You sniff and bask into the warm embrace of his arms wrapping around your body. “I just want to be good enough for them .Not be seen as second place to my sister. For them to not look at me as the usual disappointment they think I am.”

Eddie arms tighten around you and he scoffs next to your ear. “How many times do I tell you that you are not a disappointment? And to stop comparing yourself to your sister.” He smooths his hand down your side.

“It’s hard when it’s all they do.” You groan into his chest. “She’s their favorite. And I’m..just there. It’s been like that my whole freaking life. Always second, never good enough, never the favorite—“

“Hey.” He makes you look at him. “I know this probably doesn’t sound as comforting, considering my reputation, but-“ he pinches your cheek. “You’re my favorite. Always will be my favorite girl.”

You stare up in awe and blush. He continues. “Your parents are clearly idiots and don’t see what a gem you are. Alright? I don’t want you letting their comments get to your head.”

You nod allowing him to bring you in a hug again, the sweet compliments and praises he washes over for the rest of the night push away all those insecurities that’s been built through out the years.

His whispers against your ear and kisses along your skin warming you up more than the cardigan wrapped around you.

“Please.” Eddie begs. His foot blocks your attempt to shut the front door in his face, ringed fingers gripping onto the edge of the door frame as he lets out a shaky breath.

“It was just a kiss.”

“Just a kiss? Wow.” You hiss, trying to push the door closed again. “You’re fucking unbelievable.”

“It was a fucking mistake!” He scans your face, trying to catch anything that wasn’t pure hatred that you threw at him. “I-i wasn’t thinking clearly, I was drunk.”

“Oh. Because that makes things any better.” You say bitterly, looking down at his sneaker. “Move your fucking foot.”

“Jesus. Please just listen to me, we can talk about this.” The panic in his voice and eyes was evident. “I was a fucking idiot ,a-and I never meant to hurt you and- and —“

“But you did. You did hurt me, Eddie.”

It was hard to keep your voice steady, the strong expression you had kept up for most of the confrontation was beginning to falter. Your bottom lip began to shake as a few tears escaped. Eddie expression drops.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” You sniff. Eddie remains silent and you scoff. “Or were you going to act like nothing happened? Like you didn’t do exactly what I was afraid of the moment you brought her into the club.“

You push the door open and push him back, glaring at him through the tears. “You lied. You gave me all this bullshit that I was your favorite girl, and that I was the one for you. All these fucking lies and I believed you. I believed every stupid lie you fed me.”

“They weren’t lies, I was never lying!” He shouts back. “I meant everything I said, I still do. You are the one for me y/n—“

“Then why did you kiss her?” You look between his eyes. “Tell me then. If any of it was true, why. did. you. kiss. her.”

Eddie opens his mouth but clamps it shut again, grimacing as he finds himself unable to answer.

“I’m sorry” He whispers, voice breaking. “I’m so sorry baby. I don’t know what I was thinking.” He pressed his face against his balled up fist in a pained expression. “I’m so fucking sorry. Let me fix this. Ill do anything. I’ll fix this, I’ll fix us. Please.”

“You can’t.” You shake your head wiping away your tears in anger. “There’s nothing to fix. There’s no us anymore, Eddie.” His name comes out shaky as you cry. “Okay?I’m done.”

Eddie own expressions breaks as he lets out a sob of his own, your words beginning to sink in. “Don’t. Please don’t do this. I can’t lose you.”

His tears only pushed at your anger, he wasn’t the one that was hurting from this. You weren’t the one that cheated, the one to break many promises. You weren’t the one that broke a trust that took so long to build, acted on urges that stabbed at the insecurities that were buried with kisses and declarations of love.

All those kisses left on your skin now leaving a burning reminder, a ghost of a tattoo, of the heart ache that you were sure wasn’t going to go away. No matter how many years passed, it will always linger. Forever haunting you as you try to forget what you and Eddie had.

Because that’s all you were left with now, memories and heartbreak. There was no longer kisses that would make things better, stopping the bleeding that came from deep scars, not when the boy behind them was now the sole reason for why you were breaking apart right now.

That didn’t mean you didn’t want it though. A kiss that would make everything better, but you could only stare at Eddie continued to cry in front of you. His eyes pleading and begging, hands shaking as he tries make eye contact.

You swallow down that lump in your throat and grip onto the door handle tighter. “It’s over Eddie.”

He tries to speak but you cut him off before he could continue to make excuses.

“You need to fucking leave. Now.” You step back into your home, ripping your eyes away from his torn expression. “I don’t want to see you again.”

“Y/N, no please—“

The door slams shut.

It felt like the whole floor was ripped from under him. A dark hole swallowing him whole ever since you closed the door in his face that night. The unanswered calls and your avoidance only sinking him deeper into the hole he made for himself.

It was a mistake. That night at the party, he was so out of it and didn’t know what he was doing. He wasn’t even suppose to be at the party but a quick call from Gareth, mentioning that a few students wanted to buy drugs and he was the only known dealer in town.

He should have denied, but the stress of graduation being around the corner and his grade in Ms. O’donells final still being unknown got to him.

Eddie wouldn’t have been surprised if he failed again, that graduation stage being something he simply wasn’t meant to walk on. But the only thing that made him care about that idea and the disappointment that would have followed if he didn’t, was you.

He wanted to graduate for you, to make you not be disappointed that you’ll have to wait and stay another year in Hawkins just because Eddie couldn’t stop being an immature fuck up.

That’s all he was. But you still saw through that and stuck with him. You knew him in a way that no one else did, or will ever. And what did he do?

He did what he was best at.

He fucked up. He let his worries and stress of being good enough get to him, took that excuse to drink and he royally, incredibly fucked up. He ruined the one good thing in his life and he didn’t know how to deal.

Graduation went by fast, he did end up graduating surprisingly which only made him feel worse, and he hasn’t heard from you. Summer begin and he didn’t know what to do anymore.

He thought maybe if he tried to get glances of you throughout town, driving by your home on random night, he could get the courage to try to speak to you again. But when he did, he was met with a sight that broke him.

It was known you were friends with Robin, so it shouldn’t be too surprising that you would begin hanging out with the blonde. But Steve Harrington? The sight of you two together, hanging out at the local diner was all it took for his hope to be demolished.

The fact that you both looked great together. The preppy and rich boy look that Harrington carried around went perfectly well with your cute sweaters and soft demeanor. Not contradicting like it did with his band tees and metal look.

Even if you always did remind him that you loved it, saying how happy you were with him.

He began torturing himself by walking down familiar streets, Hawkins plaza being a common spot for you both to hang out on slow weekends. His eyes staring down at the cobblestones that made up the side walk, slowly making his way to the hide out. Maybe a few beers will help.

He came to a stop when he nearly ran into a street lamp, groaning as he rubbed his shoulder before noticing a yellow sticker that was loosing its color against the metal pole.

“—and 86’ will be our year baby!” Eddie drunken speech has you giggling, gripping onto the street lamp and spinning around it. The light gives a clear view of the white cardigan that was snug on your figure,his leather jacket thrown over your shoulders as extra protection of the cold that was early February.

Both of the outwear clashing against each other, different in the aesthetics but he loved it. He loved everything about you, especially the way some strands of hair fell over your face as your spinning came to a stop.

Drunken amused expression gazing up at him, standing beneath the street light that wasn’t anything compared to how bright your smile was.

He upped his dramatics, wanting to keep your eyes on him.

“Hawkins will be no longer!” He shakes his head, hair falling out of the lazy ponytail that was held up by your scrunchie. “Me and My royal highness will be leaving behind this shithole and onto a kingdom she deserves!”

“And where exactly will this kingdom be at?” You ask, hugging the street lamp and looking at Eddie with wide puppy eyes. The hopeful expression you throw at him beats the feeling the alcohol in his system was giving him.

He places a hand above yours on the metal pole, on top of a bright yellow smiley face sticker, leaning in and whispering. “You tell me where. Name a place and I’ll take you there in a heartbeat. ”

Your eyes soften as his voice dips into a deeper genuine tone, no longer the dramatics that was Eddie’s overall personality. A tone that was only ever shared between you both.

You ponder then shrug.

“Anywhere.” You answer, smiling and reaching for his hand. “I don’t care where, as long as you’re by my side.”

His heart soars at that and a grin spreads across his face. Unable to hold in that giddiness that only you could give him, he bends down and grabs your waist, throwing you over his shoulder. Your shouts and complains echoing across the empty street.

“Anywhere it is!” He shouts over your laughter. “Once you graduate—“

“We, idiot!”

“ I’m going to take you far far away from here. Away from these peasants. But first..” he hiccups and realizes how empty the street actually was. “We need to find my van. Where the hell are we?”

“I thought you said it was parked this way, Eds!”

“Hey!” A voice calls out, snapping him out of the memory that was making the emptiness in his heart more prominent. He turns to see a car roll up and recognizes the face. “Well, hi stranger.”

Augustine smiles up at him, arm prepped on top of the rolled down window. How the hell did he let that smile reel him that night? It didn’t have the soft edges that yours did, it didn’t bring any type of feeling to him what’s so ever.

“Why the hell are you walking this late at night?” She asks after he only responds with a tense smile, looking down the street.

“Van broke down.” He says, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

It was a lie. He couldn’t handle the smell of your perfume that lingered, the trinkets you put on the dashboard, or your ghost in the passenger seat. The mixtape he made for the both of you to listen to was still in the cars stereo.

“Well shit. That sucks.” She laughs and bites her bottom lip. Her eyes hopeful. The look strikes him that she must have remembered that drunken night, a full memory for her while his was hazy. Bits and pieces he hated thinking about.

She takes in the defeated stance and sits up straighter, hoping her encouraging smile can lift him up.

“Cmon Eddie, get in. Let’s go for a drive.”

He stares back at her for a moment, ready to dismiss and continue his way to the hideout. But then he thought of you and Steve, the match made in heaven, and he finds himself resigning. Hoping this could fill the hole in his heart.

You didn’t think the pain could be any worse than it was, but apparently you were once again wrong. Summer went by agonizing slow. The full time job you got at Scoops Ahoy was the worst decision you could make because it meant having to endure seeing Eddie and Augustine together.

The first time it happened, they had walked into scoop ahoy right a few minutes shy of it closing. Augustine’s loud laughter forcing you to stand up straight, stomach churning when Eddie made eye contact with you.

He seemed as surprise as you were, it was the middle of July and it’s the first time you both ran into each other since graduation.

They looked..perfect together. Augustine always had that rocker vibe to her, something her and Eddie bonded over when she first sat at the lunch table. Their taste in music were the same, they dressed the same. They looked perfect together.

Augustine had a fierce look in her eyes (that would make anyone tense up if she glared at them, something you were jealous of) as she glanced between you two, expression dropping for a split second.

A look of sympathy, or even pity, crossing her expression as she threw you an awkward smile, before she began asking for one cone. Eddie remained silent, never tearing his eyes off you as you replied with your customer service voice, shakily taking his money.

You gave her the ice cream cone and he finally attempted to say something, but before he could fully say your name— Steve came bursting through from the employee room and glared daggers at him.

“Sorry, we’re about to close so you can’t eat in here.” He practically hisses, grabbing you by the shoulders, squeezing them in comfort and lightly pushing you towards the break room. “Can you take the trash out for me?”

You wasted no time to take your exit, leaving Eddie and Steve to their weird stare down. Maybe you cried in the bathroom instead of taking out the trash, but Steve made no comment on it. Driving you home and comforting you the way he has been the entire heartbreak.

July slowly rolled into August, then August transitioned into September. It went by like a breeze for Eddie, his days full of drug deals and doing whatever he could to forget about the missing piece in him.

He thought he could pull himself out of that hole if he simply kept himself distracted the whole summer. But it didn’t do jack shit, because he found himself standing in your front porch, with a hope that he could change this ending that he caused.

The sound of loud laughter, music and multiple people talking over each other can be heard from his spot.

Dustin had let it slipped that Robin was throwing a surprise party for you the day before, somehow the kid still wanted to be around Eddie despite the rest of hellfire not being able to look him in the eye yet. He asked what for, but Dustin went quiet and continued to focus on the campaign they were planning.

He knocks on the door and steps back a bit, willing his body to stay. Would you tell him to fuck off the moment you saw him? Jesus, that was the only way this could go but he had to try.

The door swings open and that familiar whiff of your perfume hits him. If he hadn’t cried his eyes dry the entire summer, he may have teared up at the comforting smell. Your hair was shorter, he notes. He always loved the way it framed your face when it was short. It’s been so long since—

“Eddie?” Your smile drops the second your eyes landed on him. His heart twists at that.

“Hey..” he licks his lips and clears his throat, glancing past your shoulder then at you. “I..uh can..can we talk?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You continue to stare at him with no expression, seeming ready to shut the door again but he holds his hand out.

“I know. I know you told me you didn’t want to speak to me, or even see me again but.” He lets out a bitter laugh. “Shit y/n. You don’t understand how hard this has been for me—“

“For you.” You deadpan. “Yeah I really can’t imagine how this could hard for you.”

He frowns and shakes his head. “You haven’t spoken a damn word to me since May. You ignored my calls, had your mom tell me to basically fuck off whenever I came by, you didn’t let me at least try-“

“No.” You step out and slam the door shut behind you. “Eddie. You are not going to put this on me. This is your fault. I’m not the one that cheated !”

“I know! You don’t think I fucking know that?” He rubs his face and let’s out a strangled cry. “Fuck. I’ve been beating myself over it since it happened. It eats me alive. Day and night. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever done and I wasn’t thinking clearly that night and I know that doesn’t excuse what I did, but I need you to understand that if I could change what I did, I would do it in a heartbeat. Because losing you—“

He removes his hands from his face and looks at you, your own expression beginning to break. “God, losing you—it’s breaking me. Tearing me apart.”

“Good.” You hoarsely state, crossing your arms and staring down at the ground. “You deserve it, Eddie. You deserve to feel this way.”

Eddie swallows hard and watches you. “Can you ever give me a second chance?”

You begin to shake your head and his heart breaks, his desperation taking over. “Please, why can’t you at least let me try to fix things?”

“Because there’s no coming back from what you did, Eddie. I don’t give two shits about your apologies okay? I’ve moved on.”

“What?” He bitterly laughs, “to fucking Steve the hair Harrington? That preppy asshole we use to hate? “ Your expression twist in confusion and he continues, voice rough dripping with venom. “I saw you all around town with him, all summer. Christ y/n, I never thought-“

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. A choke laugh escaping as you stared at Eddie in bewilderment. “Are you serious right now? You want to give me shit when you been out and about with the same girl you cheated on me with!”

He stammers as you poked his chest roughly. “I can’t believe you had the nerve to come here, begging for forgiveness when you been fucking her all summer.”

“It meant nothing.” He admits, gripping onto your wrist. A few tears rolled down your cheek as you try to pull away. “She doesn’t mean anything to me. I only did it so I could try to forget about you. All those nights..I only thought about you, you wouldn’t leave my mind. She’s not you.”

“I dreamt of you all summer, you know?” He sniffs. “God, I couldn’t even sleep in my room for weeks because you left some of your stuff there. Had to sleep in the couch and Wayne was pissed. Shit, the old man wouldn’t stop asking about you. Kept reminding what a dumbass I was, I thought he missed you more than I did—“

A broken laugh is all he gets from you and he continues. “But no. I missed you like crazy, and..and I mean it when I said I would do anything. Even for you to at least..talk to me? Or to look at me. I can’t handle you not being in my life anymore. And I don’t care how long it takes to build the trust again.”

“I’ll keep trying. Because that’s all I need, I need you to let me at least try. Even if it’s just for us to be friends again.”

“Friends?” You frown.

“Yes. Jesus, you were my best friend. And I miss having you around, I miss making you laugh, I miss hearing you voice pestering me every damn day. I miss everything. I miss us. And I’ll sell my damn soul to be able to get it back.. Shit, I’ll sell my guitar!”

You cry and go weak in his grip, letting for your chest to shake as you let out the tears that never seemed to run out. “God. You fucking idiot. I should fucking hate you Eddie Munson.”

He silently watches you and you get the courage to look up at him. “But I just..can’t. I guess I can never fully hate you.”

“y/n..” he whispers and you close your eyes, a few tears squeezing out. The apologies didn’t do much to soothe the ache in your heart, but you couldn’t deny you had missed him too. The summer was horrible without the usual late night rides you both would go on.

Something crashing in your room brings you out the small moment, Robins rambled apologies bursting the bubble.

“Eddie.” You start, looking back at your home and you frown, the party you seem to have forgotten coming back in mind. You get lost in thought then utter. “There’s no way we can fix things now. We just can’t.”

“Come on. ” His grip tightens. “There has to be, right? It may take a while and it’ll be fucking hard, I know I destroyed a lot but we can take it slow and, and..“

The look you threw him has him trailing off, his eyebrows furrowing as he tries to understand why you looked so..resigned. There’s a few seconds before you finally find your voice.

“I’m leaving Hawkins.”

Eddie feels as if he was drenched in cold water. He freezes, processing your words and can only stare blankly as you continue.

“I got accepted into a university.” You chuckle dryly. “Surprisingly.. but uh yeah. Managed to snatch a scholarship and everything. Go me.”

The surprise party suddenly makes sense—Dustin’s avoidance of his question.

“But..you hate the idea of college.” His mouth feels dry, stuffed with imaginary cotton that makes it difficult to even speak. “You told me that you were planning to tell your parents about our plan—how we..“

We were going to leave together. He wanted to say but the sharp look you gave him made it die on his tongue.

“Yeah well things change, apparently” You glance at him then down at the sleeve of your sweater. “Besides. It may not be the way I wanted to leave but..I don’t have anything that makes me want to stay.”

You have me. He trembles, everything finally setting in. It wasn’t fair for him to say that though, because the reality was— he had you but he ruined it. He thought he lost you before, but this was a whole new level of pain he wasn’t sure he could live with.

He thinks of the fact that it’s the first week of September and takes a deep breath. “When?”

“Tomorrow.”

Fuck.

“Oh.”

He has a distant look in his eyes and you stay silent. You had hoped you wouldn’t have to say goodbye, didn’t think he deserved one after everything. The kicked puppy look being another reason why you were ready to simply leave and not look back.

“Guess I’ll just keep missing you then.” He says finally, voice wavering as he silently cries. Tears streaming down his face as he tries to force down the complete heartbreak.

“And I’ll keep waiting.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, unable to look at him anymore. “Don’t. This is why I didn’t want to do this.”

“I’ll wait. You may not come back, but I’ll wait.”

“Stop, Eddie. Don’t do that to me or yourself—“

“I love you. You know I love you, and you know I’m never going to feel this way for someone else so I’ll wait—.”

“I knew you. I knew you, Eddie.” you look back at him and sigh. “Things are different now. We both know that.”

The door opens suddenly and Robin drunken grin transforms into shock, and she rambles. “Oh shit—uh, I’ll..uh, sorry! Jonathan was going to take pictures but—I’ll leave you guys alone or actually, no? Y/N, do you need..help?”

You shake your head and glance at the blonde. “No it’s fine, I was heading back inside right now.”

She clamps her mouth shut and nods, glancing at Eddie then disappearing behind the door. He’s unable to stop crying even you look back at him and glance back down. Unable to make eye contact.

“I should go.”

None of you move at first, the ghost of a goodbye hovering over you both. The inevitable end that you both desperately wished was different, finally making itself known.

You welcome it first, giving him one last smile and softly saying.

“Goodbye Eddie.”

He’s forced to watch you hesitate for a split second before turning around and pushing yourself into the home. Closing the door in his face for the second time.

He stares at the door for a few agonizing seconds before breaking down in your door steps, realizing that you telling him to simply fuck off would have been better than this.

You closed the door and press your forward against the wooden panels, trying to ignore the bleeding that seeped through reopened wounds.

The scars lingering, small what ifs already plotting their place into the back of your mind as you force yourself away from the door, away from Eddie—and back to the party.

—

December 1988

“Eddie! I need you out in the front?” The raspy voice of his insufferable boss, Ted, brings Eddie to roll out from underneath the car he was working on. He lets out a few curses as he sits up, setting down the tools and shouts back.

“I’m busy here, Ted. You deal with it. Didn’t you want me to fix this car before tomorrow morning?”

“I have an important call.” Complete bullshit. “ I have a customer that needs help with her car so get your ass out there.” The older male yells before he makes his way into his small office. He throws his head back and sighs. Of course.

Wiping some grease off his hands, he makes his way out from the back of the shop. He focuses on a certain spot on his wrist as he chirps out, “Fear not, Eddie’s here to fix whatever-“

He stops when he looks up, ready to greet the customer who was facing the other way with his easygoing smile when he’s hit with the sight of a white cardigan. Your head twirling around and his breath catches in his throat, a pathetic sound coming out as a result of it.

Eyes equally as wide, you take in Eddie’s appearance. The dirty blue jump suit hanged off his waist. Grease was not only staining his clothes, but his hands and arms. His hair was still long, something that you couldn’t help but admire, and it was pulled into a half bun.

“Eddie?”

“Y/N?”

You both gawk at each other before you finally tore your eyes away and laugh awkwardly. “Wow. I was kinda hoping I had more time before bumping into you.”

“You’re back.” He states once the shock begins to fade, taking in your appearance. The cardigan is what really floored him. You still had it all this time? He often stayed up at night thinking about whether you kept some of his belongs the same way he did.

One of your forgotten things— a sweater never left it’s place from his closet, never washed in fear that it wouldn’t smell like you again. He often was to afraid to touch it or take it out, afraid he cigarette stained fingers would ruin it.

Eddie continued to stare at you and you smile sheepishly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah. I’m back.” You chew your bottom lip and shrug. “Hawkins bad luck proves itself again though, my car died right when I got here. Luckily i noticed that there was something new in town..”

You glance around the shop and hug yourself. Eddie stun silence is finally broken as the mention of your car.

“Right. Your car.” He clears his throat. “Uh I’ll check that out for you. Probably the battery or something—“

“Most likely. It’s a piece of junk.” You scoff looking back at your car and kicking one of the wheels. Eddie glances at it and shrugs.

“Nothing compared to mine though.” He whistles, feeling himself began to ease into the light atmosphere. His nerves still had hands trembling.

You snort and follow him to your car, popping the hood open for him and leaning against the car as he begins to check it out. You allow yourself to look down the street, breathing in the cold air and the sight of Hawkins.

Eddie checks the battery. “Jesus how old is this thing?”

“I don’t know.” You raise an eyebrow when Eddie shoots you a look. “What! I’ve never been a car person, you know this.”

“Well I can get you a new battery, the problem is..” he sighs and looks at you. “I’ll have to order one. With how old this piece of shit is—“

“Hey!”

“And it’ll probably take a week.” He finishes, throwing the rag over his shoulder and closing the hood. You groan and slump against the vehicle.

“Great. First day here and I can’t even make it all the way to my house.”

“I can drive you.” He quickly says. “My shift ended 30 minutes, that dickhead just loves having me around so much.”

He rolls his eyes and you can’t stop your own smile from growing. A small pang of hope etching into his chest at the sight. He forgot how much it warmed him up inside. The cold breeze of December had no match against it.

You think for a moment then look back at your car. “You better still have that ugly van because I need space for my suitcases.”

Eddie gasps in offense and holds his heart. “Ugly? You use to say you loved my van?”

“Oops. Secrets out.” You grin before unlocking your trunk and pushing a bag into his arms.

“I honestly thought my ears were playing tricks on me when I heard him yell your name.” You muse, watching the trees become a blur out the window. “Because Eddie? A mechanic?”

“Wayne knew the guy.” Eddie explains, trying not to focus too much on the fact that his passenger seat was finally filled again. “Wouldn’t quit until I agreed to work there. It was easy to learn though.”

“Huh.” You shake your head and laughs. “Wasn’t expecting that at all.”

“What? You thought I would be selling drugs my whole life? Besides, no other place wanted to hire me.”

“No.” You frown, sitting up. “That’s not what I meant. I just mean…I guess I expected you to be gone.”

“Gone?” He throws you a questioning look.

“Yeah like..eventually you would have left Hawkins. Maybe decide that corroded coffin would play somewhere else that wasn’t the hide out.”

Eddie goes quiet at that and you get the courage to look at him. His face was soft, sadness swimming in his eyes. “I told you I would wait.”

You’re struck with that conversation that occurred two years ago. Two years since you forced yourself to leave and attempted to forget your first love, and your first heartbreak. A lump grows in your throat and you stare at the road.

“I meant what I said.” He says sadly. “You may have thought I was just saying that. That it was lies but. I waited. Even if I wanted you to leave and be happy, I still wanted to wait. Just in case.”

“In case I came back.” You mumble. “And I did.“

He slows down to a stop in front of your home and you stare at the front door, exhaling. “You know..I didn’t think I would ever miss it. Hawkins. But I did, couldn’t stop even if I was in some expensive school in New York.”

“Are you on winter break?” He asks cautiously, the mention of college making him realize how temporarily this is. “When are you going back?”

You go quiet. He cuts the engine and waits, watching you as you look at him with a half smile.

“I’m not. I dropped out.”

“What?”

“You were right Eds.” Eds. Fuck he missed that. “College isn’t for me, I only did it for my parents and I realized in the beginning of my second year that I couldn’t stand following whatever plan they set out for me.”

“But you wanted to leave Hawkins no matter what—“

“You did too.” You cut in, getting defensive. “You also wanted to leave once, but still stayed. Even when I told you to not do that to yourself. So we’re both idiots who never really left their hometown huh?”

He swallows, not really knowing what to say at first.

“I’m taking it that you dad had an aneurysm.” He half jokes but it hits. You laugh, music to his ears and lean back against the seat.

“Oh yeah. That phone call was not pleasant. I’m sure a lecture is waiting for me.” Your smile is easy as you roll your head to look at him. “I can hear it now. Hear them saying that I proved them once again that I was the family disappointment and my sister would never do such a thing—“

“You’re not a disappointment y/n.” Eddie stops you and your voice gets caught in your throat, struggling to not let the tears brim from the look he throws at you.

All those memories of the same comforting words, the same adoration in his eyes whenever he held you and whispered the same words in your bedroom. It came rushing back and you had to refrain yourself from asking him to kiss things better.

Sure, maybe you healed from the initial heartbreak. But that didn’t mean it didn’t leave a scar, and you were afraid you might break if you continued to be in his presence, and ask him to kiss that scar. To trace it with lazy drawings of stars and sweet whispers.

“I should go.”

Eddie looks away, the same words from two years ago haunting him again, and nods, gripping onto the steering. He lets go to follow you to exit the van, grabbing some of your suitcases and helping to carry it to your porch.

He readies himself for the goodbye you will throw his way, confirmation that this small interacting will be all he will get.

But he didn’t want another goodbye. Not again on the same porch. He promised himself that he would wait, he did and you were back. It had to mean something. He told you that he would try. And he will.

“We still do play at the hide out.” You set down the last bag inside your home, keeping the door open with your foot and tilt your head at this. “Corroded coffin. You were right, never left that stupid bar.”

He chuckles and twirls one of the rings around his finger nervously. “Every Tuesday. Guess that’s something else that didn’t change in Hawkins.”

You blink and he rushes out before he loses the courage. “You should come see us. Tomorrow. We could use the usual critiques, you always were the one who could tell us how to be better and all.”

You hum, “Yeah. Gareth always was off with those drums.” You cough, and shrug. “I’ll see. Maybe I’ll stop by.”

Eddie shoulders deflates and nods, “Okay. Yeah, cool. If you don’t, that’s fine!” He begins stepping down the porch steps. “I’ll give you a call once your cars all ready. You know what, I can even drive it here myself. So uh yeah…”

The bye was ready on his lips, his face grimacing at the thought of going back to that emptiness of his van but you speak up. Flinching as though your mouth spoke before you thought clearly.

“I’ll be ready at 8.”

“..What?”

“Tomorrow.” You step into your home and glance back at him, your face now unreadable. “Your gigs always start at 9 right? Pick me up at 8.”

“Pick you..pick you up..right! Yeah, I’ll pick you up at 8.” He stammers, pulling a strand in front of his face as you raise an eyebrow. “That sounds like a plan. Then I’ll see you tomorrow?”

His voice is hopeful and you could only smile, having missed that boyish demeanor on him. “Yes eddie. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You close the door and sigh, leaning back against it. Hoping that you were making the right decision, hoping he was ready to make up on his promise of doing anything.

Eddie stared at the door, but instead of guilt or heartbreak that usually followed, he was met with hope. Something that grew as he walked back to his van, a bump in his step.

A hope that maybe—there could be a different ending for you and him.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson imagines #one of the best things I’ve ever read #absolute perfection #please please read this if you love angst!

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primroseparker · 2 years

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I'm afraid of losing you okay? With Steve harrington please

I’m Afraid of Losing You || Steve Harrington x reader

Summary: After the events at Lover’s Lake, your best friend reveals something you never thought you would hear.

Word Count: 1.0k

Warnings: angst, best friends to lovers, mentions of the upside down and risky behavior, no pronouns are used so this could be gn!reader I believe (please correct me if I’m wrong!)

A/N: I thought it would be better if I wrote this as a blurb, so here’s 1.0k words on Steve being protective but bad at communicating his feelings. Also, I’m a sucker for the best friends to lovers trope so I added it to this blurb :D

The drive back from Lover’s Lake was silent. No one dared to speak after the traumatizing events that had just occurred. Eddie had volunteered to give the kids a ride to their respective homes, so now it was just you, Steve, Nancy and Robin. The faint music coming from the radio was the only sound in the car. You try to focus all of your attention on that one song, hoping to distract yourself from the gnawing pain in your stomach.

David Bickler’s voice catches your attention. Of course, it’s fitting that “Eye of the Tiger” would play at a moment like this. It seems like Steve has the same thought, because he scoffs at the all too familiar lyrics. You give him a sideways glance, hoping to soothe his anger.

He has one hand gripping the steering wheel, knuckles white from the force. When he notices your glance, he just shakes his head in anger and scoffs once more. You could feel the tension, and apparently Nancy and Robin could feel it too.

“I don’t want to be at home alone. My parents and sister are out of town for some event and won’t be back until tomorrow. Nancy already told me I could stay with her,” Robin explains.

“Fine, have it your way,” Steve snaps.

“Alright,” Robin mutters.

Not long after, Steve’s BMW pulls into Nancy’s driveway. The two girls don’t waste any time, opening the door as soon as the car comes to a stop.

“I’ll call you guys tomorrow,” Nancy rushes out. The girls slam the car door in a haste and head toward the house. Steve sighs and turns to look at them.

“Hey,” he calls out. Nancy and Robin stop on their tracks and turn their heads to face the burgundy car.

“Be safe, alright? Don’t go anywhere else tonight,” he says, a much more soft tone filling his voice.

“Sure,” they both agree, giving him a tight smile.

He waits until both of them have gone inside the house and the door closed behind them to put the car back in drive. The drive back to your house was just as bad as the drive to Nancy’s house. The silence was killing you.

“Can you just please talk to me?” your voice breaking the quiet atmosphere of the car.

“What do you want me to say, y/n?” Steve says, voice cold in anger.

“Look, I’m not sorry for what I did, okay? You would’ve been dead had I not jumped in that lake and gone through the gate.”

“Is that what it is? You wanted to be heroic, have all the glory?” he growled, his grip on the steering wheel getting tighter.

“Of course not! Why would you even say that?” you respond. Did he seriously think that you were that selfish?

He takes his eyes off the road to look at you, eyes fierce with anger. “You could’ve died!” he yells.

“You could’ve died too! How is that any different from what you did, huh? The only difference is that you don’t see me yelling at you for going through that stupid gate in the first place,” you fire back.

He returns his gaze to the road. “You aren’t supposed to do shit like that, got it? That’s on me and no one else,” he says, with an air of finality.

Your eyebrows pull together, eyes wide with exasperation. “Why do you care so much?” you demand, voice rising to a yell.

“Because I’m in love with you, you idiot!” he shouts.

“What?” you ask in surprise, voice losing all of its fierceness.

In lieu of an answer, he pulls the car over and turns it off. He sighs and faces you. There is no trace of that anger that was there a few seconds ago anywhere on his face.

“I’m in love with you, alright? Why do you think I’m so mad at you for putting your life at risk for me? The thought of never seeing you again is…” his voice barely above a whisper, “I’m afraid of losing you, okay?”

Your face is blank with shock. He takes your silence as a rejection, his cheeks flooding with a faint shade of pink.

Sure, you’ve been in love with your best friend for years now. It’s why you had decided to even jump in that lake in the first place. The thought of losing the person that you loved the most was unimaginable. Yet, you never thought you would hear those words come out of your best friend’s mouth. You expected anything but that.

You come out of your reverie and place your hand atop of his. You give his fingers a gentle squeeze, hoping to catch his gaze. His eyes meet yours and you smile at their gentleness.

“I’m in love with you too. That’s why I went after you, Steve. I don’t want to lose you either,” you whisper.

That seems to ease his worry, a tender smile forming on his face. He turns his palm to lace your fingers with his and gives them a gentle squeeze.

“How about we both agree to not do anything that stupid ever again?” he murmurs.

“Deal,” you respond.

An intimate look is shared between the two of you. After everything that you both had gone through in the last twenty four hours, a bit of peace was something that was much needed. If someone had asked you a week ago what you would expect to happen today, you never would’ve guessed that you would be confessing your feelings to your best friend. Then again, you never thought you would go to an alternate dimension with murderous creatures and electrical storm.

“Can I stay at your house? I don’t want to be alone tonight,” you continue after a brief pause.

“Of course,” Steve answers. He brings your hand up to his lips and gives it a tender kiss. He lets it go, but leaves it on his lap. He turns on the car and makes a U-turn to head to his house.

Although the future was uncertain, one thing that remained true was that you were unequivocally in love with your best friend and he felt the same way. No matter what happened now, you both had each other in a way that you didn’t before.

#steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington one shot #steve x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington reader insert #steve harrington x gn!reader

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primroseparker · 2 years

Text

If you have any requests for Eddie Munson, please send them my way! Please read my rules for requesting before doing it though. Here is a prompt list if you have trouble coming up with an idea.

#eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson x reader #masterlist #prompt list #requests #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic

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primroseparker · 2 years

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Ok ok ok so I've been sitting on this idea lately. I wasn't sure if I wanted to request it or actually (yipes) try to write it myself. But like, will I actually ever write it? Probably not. So it should get shared with my tumblr bestie! Fair warning--this is much more fluffy rather than smutty. Think I've just been in that mood lately. :)

I mentioned this idea a bit ago—basically it’s friends to lovers with Steve + the shared bed trope! Here’s what I’m thinking:

You and Steve are best friends, and you’re very touchy with/attentive to one another. You’re often nestling into his side when you sit next to one another, he’s grabbing your hand, pulling you onto his lap, looking at you first for your reaction to stuff, etc. Maybe we see some of this dynamic at a game night or like the group goes to Hawkins’ new skating rink?!

Afterwards, when you go to the diner for a late dinner, you order your meals as a single entity, editing each other’s orders etc because obviously you’ll be splitting everything and pulling food off each other’s plates, speaking in your shared shorthand (that frankly your friends find baffling—almost like you’re reading one another's minds). You’re basically codependent, and it’s all fun and games…

At least it was, until the gang goes on a road trip, and through some mix up you step into the hotel room the two of you booked, and it doesn’t have two full beds… it has one.

You can’t remember the last time you felt shy in front of one another, but you definitely are now. Steve’s like it’s ok I’ll sleep on the floor, already making up a “bed,” and you’re pulling him up, reassuring him, saying don’t be silly, it’s not… weird… and maybe there was a little moment when you saw each other in your PJs for the first time, but you shrug it off, and the first night you start sleeping on opposite sides of the bed, but when Steve wakes up in the middle of the night, he sees you’ve slung your leg over him and he… kinda likes it (and ok, he likes that thin pajama top you have on, too). Then on night two, you wake up to find Steve’s reached over and has an arm across your waist and it’s… nice. Maybe the third night something happens… someone gets cold or there’s a nightmare with sleep talking or they hear a noise and Steve’s gotta go into protector/comforter mode? I’m not sure what exactly but I just feel like there’s opportunity for a *moment* there. Anyway, on the last morning you wake up to the best smell and when you open your eyes you’re fully spooning one another, and that smell is your best friend… who ok, yeah, maybe you like more than a friend because his smell alone is so comforting and he knows you better than anyone else and actually there’s no one you’d rather be sharing a bed with.

When you gently wake Steve up at first he springs off you and profusely apologizes, making wild excuses, but the only reason he needs to apologize is because he stopped the cuddles (plus now you’re cold). Cuteness ensues where they both cautiously admit that their feelings have changed over the last few days and then… tender first kiss and (sexy) cuddles?

Bonus… maybe Eddie makes some suggestive comment towards them at breakfast and reader/Steve are just like oh nothing, just had a really good night’s sleep…

I included so many ideas here, please don’t feel like you need to include everything (or even write this at all)! You are more than generous for writing so many of our (and my) requests, Erin! You’re the sweetest and we’re not worthy! 💘☄️💘

Okay I’m loving this idea. I’m LIVING for the fluff, I’m telling you. Funny thing is, when I was reading this, I instantly thought of a title and now I’m just so excited to write this. I hope I can do it justice!

(Note: Reader is Robin in this gif, this isn’t in any way a romance between Robin and Steve.)

Twin Flames

Steve Harrington x Reader

MASTERLIST

You and Steve were a packaged deal, no ifs, ands or buts. Wherever you went, Steve was almost guaranteed to be with you and vice versa. You were practically joined at the hip in that way.

You’d been close to Steve since the beginning. It’d only been three years since you first met Steve in senior year history class, but you became fast friends. You told each other everything and were practically always with one another. It wasn’t something either of you tried to do, it just came naturally in your friendship, it always had. In fact, you were closer to him than some of your girlfriends. He truly was your ride or die.

You didn’t exactly have a normal friendship either. To the outside world, it appeared you and Steve were something more due to the fact of your closeness and intimacy. It wasn’t uncommon for you guys to hug, cuddle or hold hands, it was just something that happened because you were so comfortable with him. But you really and truly were friends.

It wasn’t any different tonight when you’d been invited out by the group of kids to visit Hawkins’ newest roller rink that had just opened. Steve was relentlessly teasing you for having to wear skates a size too big for your feet due to the fact that they’d run out of your size.

“Come here,” he laughed, pulling your legs into his lap as he tied the skates as tight as he could.

“If I fall and break your neck, it’s your fault,” you grumbled.

“I’ll be sure to send the prettiest bouquet of flowers for your funeral then,” he joked.

You rolled your eyes, shoving his shoulder as you stood. You wobbled unsteadily as you hit the rink, it having been a long time since you’d roller skated. You felt a hand take yours a moment later and turned to see Steve next to you, holding on tight.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you don’t fall and break your neck,” he smiled warmly.

“My knight in shining armor,” you replied dryly, but he knew you were relieved about the extra stability.

You heard laughter as the group of kids whirled by the two of you, barely more than a blur of color as they were off again. You grabbed a hold of Steve’s forearm, squeezing tightly in attempt to stay on your feet. He laughed boisterously at your struggles, much to your dismay.

“You look like Bambi taking her first steps,” he noted.

“I told you, it’s been years since I did this,” you grumbled.

“Well I believe you now,” he smirked, taking your other hand, “Just follow my lead okay?”

“How are you good at this anyway? I’ve never seen you on roller blades before yet you’re gliding around like Tinkerbell.”

“What can I say? I’m good at just about anything I put my mind to,” he playfully winked at you, his grin growing to flash the stunning smile of his.

You stifled a groan, rolling your eyes. This was something you often did in his presence, although never in annoyance. More like in endearment, even if he was intolerable sometimes—in a loveable way.

“Insufferably so, I’d say,” you muttered, watching his feet as you tried to mimic his movements.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” he faked, tilting his ear towards you.

“Nothing,” you smiled innocently.

“Mhm. That’s what I thought.”

It took a few tries and a few times falling straight on your ass—much to Steve’s amusement—before you finally managed to skate better, albeit still pretty clumsily thanks to the loose skates.

“You go ahead and have fun okay? I think I’ll just watch on the sidelines. These aren’t doing me any favors,” you scowled down at at the offending skates.

“No way. I can’t be responsible if you crash and burn from here to the edge of the rink,” he shook his head, skating circles around you.

He bent and scooped you up, making you squeal loudly.

“Steve!” you shrieked, gripping onto him for dear life.

He laughed, skating the both of you to the sidelines, all while he held you bridal style in his arms. Yours and his laughter mixed as he finally put you down when it was safe.

The noise captured the younger teens’ attention who watched you both intensely, though you and Steve didn’t happen to notice.

“I sometimes wonder if they’re actually secretly dating and just haven’t told us,” Max mused, twirling in circles as she watched the pair with her friends.

“Doubtful,” Lucas argued.

“What makes you think that?” she queried.

“I feel like we’d be able to tell if they were dating,” Will pointed out.

“Yeah, they’d be insufferable,” Dustin said.

“But they act like they’re dating. Like look at them,” Mike motioned to you and Steve.

You had your foot in Steve’s lap making him untie the skate for you; Mike turned back to his friends with a raised brow.

“But they’re just friends,” El said, “Can’t girls and boys be just friends? I mean, I’m just friends with you guys,” she shrugged, motioning to Dustin, Lucas and Will.

“Yeah, but you don’t do things like that with us,” Lucas said, gaze flicking in the direction of you and Steve.

After he’d untied your skates and you’d put on your normal shoes, you’d settled next to Steve, slouching into his side, leaning against him.

Steve saw the group congregated, staring at you and him and he flipped them off causing them to scatter.

“Shit, we’ve been caught,” Dustin said, scattering with the others.

Max shrugged, peering over her shoulder once more before calling out to the other five.

“Either way, it’s incredibly amusing.”

•

Trivia night was always loud, chaotic and incredibly fun.

Tonight, it was being hosted in Mike Wheeler’s basement, the group being split up into two groups: older teens vs. younger teens. You, Steve, Robin, Eddie and Nancy made up one team and you competed against Will, Mike, Max, Dustin and Lucas. El had offered to keep score and Jonathan was in charge of the trivia questions.

For this game, it was current pop culture questions, mainly music and movies, which surprisingly the younger teens had done great at getting answers. So far, it was a landslide with the kids leading by 8 points.

“How do you guys know half this stuff? You were practically babies at the start of the decade!” Robin huffed.

“One, we were only eight or nine. Hardly babies,” Dustin argued.

“We also have older siblings too, so we know things,” Mike said, giving a pointed glance at Nancy.

“Okay, round 2!” Jonathan called out.

“We gotta catch up,” you groaned to your teammates, “They’re making us look bad!”

“Hey, it’s not our faults you screwed up the Back To The Future question!” Steve poked your side, making you squirm, “Everyone knows the car used as the time machine was a DeLorean!”

“Apparently not everyone,” Eddie mumbled.

“You make one mistake,” you sighed, flopping back against the couch, dramatically.

“It’s okay, we got this,” Steve nodded, reaching out and pulling you into his lap.

It was something he did so often that it never phased you anymore, though you did try to avoid the curious stares from your friends it always elicited. It might not be normal for most friends, but you and Steve weren’t most people.

“Alright! First question!” Jonathan announced, holding up an index card like a game show host, “Which comedy-drama film features a group of high schoolers spending detention together?”

“The Breakfast Club!” you shouted, milliseconds after he finished the question.

“Correct! Point for Team Steve.”

Jonathan motioned to El who added another tally on the white board. The score currently showed Team Steve with 9 points and Team Lucas with 16.

“It’s one of her favorite movies,” Steve rolled his eyes at your teammates, chuckling when you hit his chest.

“Hey, at least I got it right!”

“Yes, you did, Y/N,” he grinned, squeezing your waist playfully, “Would you like a cookie?”

“Asshole,” you mumbled.

“Next question,” Jonathan pulled out another index card from the deck—he was clearly enjoying the trivia host role.

“Which movie features Dan Ackroyd, Bill Murray and Harold Ramis?”

“Ghostbusters!” you and Robin hollered, only seconds before Dustin did.

“Ah, Team Steve got it out first,” Jonathan tutted, “Sorry, Team Lucas.”

“It’s your fault for making Y/N watch that so many times, Steve!” Dustin grumbled.

“What can I say? My girl here is smart,” he grinned.

“Yes, I am,” you stuck your tongue out at Dustin.

“Oh very mature,” he shot back, making you laugh.

“Love you, Dustin!”

“Yeah, yeah, love you too,” he waved you off, also giving you the finger at the same time.

You grinned, delighted that your team was starting to score more.

“What music product did Sony release in 1980?” Jonathan asked next.

“Walkman!” Max yelled, hardly giving any chance for you or your teammates to open your mouths.

“Damnit,” you pouted, “We we’re doing good.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll get them,” Steve said and you turned sideways in his lap so you could ruffle his hair.

He groaned.

“Must you?”

“Yes because you’re a great team captain. So positive!”

Nancy, Eddie and Robin just laughed at your antics and Steve’s sour face at having his hair messed up. But they agreed, he was definitely great at encouraging the team.

“What is the name of the van that Scooby Doo and his friends travel around in?” Jonathan read.

“The Mystery Machine!” you and Steve called out in unison.

“Point for Team Steve!” El called, marking it.

You and Steve high-fived one another.

“We’ll catch up, don’t you worry,” Steve called to the other group.

“Keep dreaming, Harrington!” Lucas called.

Between you, Nancy and Robin, Team Steve earned five additional points, leaving you guys one point behind.

The next question, you knew Eddie had in the bag before Jonathan even finished asking it.

“Who played the guitar solo in Michael Jackson’s hit, Beat It?”

“Eddie Van Halen, of course,” Eddie shrugged as if it was obvious.

“Alright, that’s what I’m talking about man!” Steve grinned, high-fiving the other male over your head.

It was now a dead tie, the last question, worth five points would decide who would be the winner of tonight’s game. You’d stood from Steve’s lap where he’d been keeping you locked right in his arms for most of the game, now leaning anxiously against the arm of the couch. You took your competitions seriously.

“Which movie features creatures that should never be fed after midnight?” Jonathan read the last question.

“Gremlins!”

It was a blend of yours, Steve’s and Robin’s voices that hollered the answer at the same time.

“Oh come on! Not fair!” Mike yelled, “Of course they’d know that. They work at a video rental store.”

“Perks of the job, kid,” Robin shrugged.

“I answered it, I don’t work there, so that means we win!” you grinned.

“Congratulations Team Steve for winning with 21 points to Team Lucas’ 17 points. Better luck next time,” Jonathan announced in his best game show host voice.

Your team cheered, excited to finally win a game. Usually, it was the kids who won. Steve swooped you into his arms and spun you around in excitement.

“I don’t see him twirling any of us around,” Robin muttered to Nancy, who had to disguise her laugh as a cough.

“No way in hell is Harrington twirling me around,” Eddie retorted causing both girls to burst into laughter.

“What’s so funny?” you asked, once Steve set you down.

You pushed the hair that had flown into your face out of the way as you peered at Nancy and Robin. You saw them exchanged a glance.

“Nothing,” they said, a bit too perfectly in time.

It was definitely curious and something told you that you’d been the topic of their discussion. But you didn’t give it much more thought when Dustin spoke up.

“All that trivia has made me hungry.”

“Same. I’m starving,” you nodded.

It’s as if your stomach heard you because it let out an angry growl just then, loud enough for the entire room to hear.

“Was that your stomach or a fire breathing dragon in there?” Steve laughed, patting your belly, “Better feed this one before she gets grouchy.”

You swatted his hand away, feeling your face heat in embarrassment.

“How about we hit the diner for a late dinner?” Nancy asked, already heading toward the stairs to grab her car keys, “I can take the majority of you guys and Steve and Y/N can take the rest.”

Steve looked at you as if to gauge your reaction before he committed to anything. You nodded.

“Sounds good to me. Come on losers, we’ll take you three,” you said, motioning to Max, Lucas and Dustin.

“You’re never letting us live this down are you?” Lucas asked.

“Well if it’s going to be our only win, I might as well celebrate it for as long as possible,” you countered.

“So, never?” Dustin asked.

“You heard the girl,” Steve said, slinging his arm around your shoulders as he fished his keys out of his pocket, “Never.”

•

“I’ll have the cheeseburger with lettuce, mayo, pickles-”

“Extra pickles by the way,” you cut in on Steve’s order, “Oh and tomato and onion on the side please. He doesn’t like them but I do.”

The waitress cocked a brow, but wrote it down.

“Fries with that?”

“Yes,” Steve nodded.

“Crinkle cut and seasoned,” you piped in.

The waitress nodded, turning to you so you could order.

“I’ll have the turkey club please,” you ordered.

“She’ll have extra Pepper Jack cheese on that too, light on the mustard. Oh and no fries, the homemade chips for her,” Steve added.

“With an extra serving of ranch for the chips. Thank you,” you smiled politely at the waitress who was eyeing you both.

Since you were the last of the group to order, she took the stack of menus you had gathered from your hands, walking away while muttering under her breath. You turned to Steve with an amused smirk.

“Does she think-”

“Most definitely,” he answered.

“How bad?”

“Eh, 10. You think-”

“Yep,” you nodded, cutting him off mid-sentence, “Do we-”

“Nah.”

“‘Kay,” you answered, turning back to the rest of the group, who looked completely baffled.

“What was that about?” Dustin asked.

“Oh, we figured the waitress probably thought we’re crazy with the way we ordered for each other—which makes sense to us because all we do is eat off one another’s plates and split food all the time—and Steve said he figured it was on a scale of 10 for how crazy she thought we are,” you explained.

“And that she probably thinks we’re a couple and we’re not even going to bother to correct her,” Steve finished.

All you both got were blank stares and a few blinks.

“You mean you communicated all of that with about a dozen words?” Eddie asked, amazed.

“They practically finish each others’ sentences,” Robin said, “It’s creepy.”

“And impressive,” Max mused, “Maybe we need to up our communication skills,” she said, nudging Lucas.

“Y’all are weird,” Dustin said, shaking his head.

You laughed, looking over at Steve.

“That’s just what normal is for us.”

•

Normal had lasted for three years of friendship.

Now, nothing seemed normal. All because of one road trip.

After talking about it for months, you, Steve and the entire gang had finally embarked on the road trip now that the kids were on summer vacation. You’d all been planning this road trip all year leading up to this week, mainly to take the trip to the Indiana State Fair. It was opened for 18 days each summer and the kids had been begging you, Steve, their parents—whoever would drive—to take them.

After the long drive to Indianapolis, the entire crew had made it and were ready to fall into the hotel beds. Between the twelve of you, there had been five hotel rooms booked. Nancy and Jonathan obviously shared one, Eddie and Robin taking another, you and Steve taking the third. The fourth and fifth rooms were split up between the boys and girls—Dustin, Will, Lucas and Mike sharing two double beds and Max and El in the last room. You were sure the amount of rooms and arrangements had challenged the hotel when you and Nancy made the reservations—there was no other explanation for what you were looking at.

Somehow, there had been a mix up and instead of there being two beds like you’d booked, you and Steve had gotten one double. You hadn’t even dropped your luggage yet, you were still standing in the doorway in horror.

“Nancy and Jonathan got one bed like they booked and Eddie and Robin got two doubles,” Steve said, coming back in after checking with the others.

“So it’s only our room that they messed up?” you sighed, “So much for switching with one of the others.”

You sighed, setting your bags down next to Steve’s.

“It’s not big deal,” he shrugged, “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” you frowned.

He waved you off, dismissing your politeness.

“Go ahead and go get changed, you’re dead on your feet.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the only thing that came out was a yawn. You decided to accept defeat and pulled out your pajamas, heading to the bathroom.

It was only when you came out of the bathroom with your pajama shorts and thin top on that you suddenly felt shy and awkward for the first time in your entire friendship. It didn’t help matters that you caught Steve just pulling off his shirt and you averted your eyes quickly, as if he’d need the privacy.

It didn’t stop you from getting an eyeful of his tanned back, a constellation of moles scattering over it. Enough that they mesmerized you and made you want to touch them all, tracing any kind of pattern you could over them.

In all the years you’d been friends, you’d done a lot of intimate things, but sleeping in the same bed was not one of them. You had no idea why it bothered you now, you’d cuddled with Steve many times before. But this, this felt different somehow.

“Oh hey,” he said, noticing you were back in the room, turning as he pulled a shirt out of his bag to put on.

You had more self control than you thought as you tried your best not stare at his bare chest. The front was as nice as the back, the map of beauty marks spread over onto this side as well. A thin layer of dark hair covered his pecs and tapered into a happy trail that led to places you did not need to be thinking of right now. Or at all, period.

He was just a man, with a body. It was Steve, for God’s sakes. You had no reason to be acting like you were.

It took a minute for you to realize what he was doing as you saw him drop one of the pillows from the bed onto the floor next to the bed.

“What are you doing?” you asked, climbing into bed.

“Making my bed,” he said, “I told you, I’d sleep on the floor.”

“Come on Steve, don’t be silly. No one ever sleeps well on the floor.”

You saw him hesitate for a beat and you jumped at the chance before he could say anything else.

“Come on, you can sleep in the bed,” you said, “I don’t bite.”

He chuckled, picking the pillow up and tossing it back on the bed.

“I know.”

You curled up on your side, practically on the edge, giving him as much room as possible. You couldn’t pinpoint why exactly, but something about this almost felt dangerous.

If Steve noticed, he didn’t say anything. He stayed a safe distance away on his side too. You were both exhausted and needed to get some sleep for what was sure going to be a long day tomorrow.

“Night Y/N,” he whispered.

“Night Steve.”

•

He wasn’t sure what woke him, whether it was a noise from the hotel hallway—which sounded oddly busy for the middle of the night—or something else. But the thought faded when he realized you’d moved closer to him sometime through the night.

Your leg was slung over his hip and oddly, he doesn’t mind one bit. He smiled to himself, knowing how embarrassed you’d be if you were awake and realized.

He watched you for a moment, the peaceful expression on your face as you slept, your lashes flush against your cheeks, your chest rising and falling with each breath. Something about the sight made his heart do calisthenics in his chest.

When did you get to be so beautiful?

Logically, he knew that was a dumb question. You’d always been attractive and although he’d been with you through crushes on many guys, he couldn’t actually remember why you never really dated. Sure, he’d dated around and had fun, but you were always loyal to him in a way.

He tried to shrug off the thoughts and what it could possibly mean, especially since it was in the middle of the night.

His eyes fell to your torso even though he’d tried to force himself not to look again, not after you’d first emerged from the bathroom. He couldn’t help but notice how thin your pajama top was—so thin he could see the delicate curve of your breasts.

God, he should not be having these thoughts about you. You were his best friend and deserved better than him leering at you.

But was it only that? Just physical desire? He couldn’t be sure. He didn’t want to think more about it.

When you sighed in your sleep, moving your leg off of him and turning over with your back to him, he took it as an opportunity to distance himself from his previous thoughts and fall back asleep.

But as he drifted off again, a little part of him couldn’t help but miss the warmth of your body against his.

•

You were just as exhausted by the second night.

After a day filled with tons of festival rides, games and food, all topped off with endless walking, you and Steve practically fell into bed with barely a mumbled goodnight before falling asleep.

It was around 2 am when you woke, according to the clock on the bedside table and you needed to pee. You felt a weight on your waist and looked down; Steve’s arm was slung over your waist.

Just the tiniest—subconscious—action did funny things to your stomach. It felt like a herd of butterflies had been set loose in there, their wings flapping in sync. You hated to have to move from his embrace because it was actually rather nice, but you really had to go to the bathroom.

Sighing quietly to yourself, you accepted your fate and gently moved his arm from you, praying he wouldn’t wake. Thankfully, he stayed sound asleep. You sat at the edge of the bed, just for a second, watching him sleep.

Even in sleep, he had the cutest, tiniest curls of his hair that brushed his ears and the nape of his neck. A few pieces fell over his forehead, making it look intentional instead of sleep tousled. He stirred in his sleep, one arm reaching out to your side as if searching for you even in sleep.

You quietly got up and padded to the bathroom. It was only after you’d flushed and washed your hands that it hit you as you looked at your reflection in the mirror.

Somewhere, somehow, when you hadn’t even expected it, you had fallen in love with your best friend.

It was too heavy of a realization for the dark hours of nighttime and you pushed the thought away, promising to get back to it at a later date.

It was only when you slipped under the covers that you reached over for Steve’s arm, gently putting it back around you before nestling back into sleep.

•

Despite being a humid July night outside, the hotel room was freezing the third night and of course, neither of you could figure out how to control the temperature.

You grumbled as you climbed into bed, covered with goosebumps. You weren’t sure which was worse—being too hot or being too cold.

“Don’t be such a grouch,” Steve chuckled, “Here, come on. I’ll keep you warm.”

You gave him a skeptical look and he pretend to look wounded.

“Oh come on, we’ve cuddled plenty of times before and now you’re hesitant to?”

You knew it wasn’t his fault of your late night realization last night, but in the light of day, everything became so much more real. But you didn’t have the power in you to say no so you agreed.

“Don’t let me die of hypothermia now,” you mumbled as he pulled you into his arms, though keeping a close distance.

It was just enough to provide you with his body heat and you felt yourself melting in his embrace, all while slowly warming.

“I doubt that’s a real possibility,” he snorted, “But if it makes you feel better, I’ll always protect you. You know that.”

You couldn’t stop the smile that his words elicited. Thankfully, he couldn’t see your face.

“You’re too good to me, Steve Harrington.”

“As I should be.”

“Night,” you yawned.

“Night, Y/N.”

When you woke, sun was streaming in the window on the opposite side of the hotel room and your nose was filled with an alluring scent. Between spicy, earthy and what you feel like sunshine would smell like, you couldn’t place where it was coming from.

That is, until you opened your eyes and found yourself fully pressed against Steve, spooning him. Your body fit against his perfectly as his curled around yours. The sunshine smell was coming from him—the only man to ever make your heart do cartwheels in your chest.

You must’ve smelled his scent a million times, but why was it now that it stood out?

Because it’s comforting, your mind told you.

Everything about Steve was familiar to you, in a way—well almost everything. He’d been a constant in your life for so long as your best friend that it was hard to imagine him as anything else, but at the same time, you couldn’t ignore the warm and fuzzy feelings that being so close to him caused within you.

You were pretty sure there was no one in this world that knew you better than he did and yet that thought wasn’t scary. He’d seen you at your highest and your lowest and stuck with you through the hardest challenges. He’d helped celebrate your successes and turned to you when he needed someone. In a way, it truly was like he was your other half. So why had it taken so long for you to realize you had feelings for him that expanded past friendship?

Maybe because your friendship wasn’t as conventional as most, you were able to disregard any feelings you might’ve had as just a fluke. But no sweeping under the rug would change what you were feeling in this moment. One fact that changed everything.

There was no one else you’d rather be sharing a bed with than Steve.

“Steve,” you whispered, a hand on his forearm, shaking him gently.

“Mm?” he mumbled, still half asleep.

There was a rustle of sheets and a hoarse curse from behind you.

“Oh shit! I’m sorry!”

He sprang off of you like he’d been cuddling a hungry tiger. You frowned as you rolled over to face him.

“I’m so sorry. I must’ve been dreaming or yeah, sorry I’m a cuddler, I’ll cuddle anything in my sleep,” he waved his hand dismissively, his cheeks a deep scarlet.

He had actually jumped out of bed after he disentangled himself from you and now was standing on his side of the bed looking thoroughly embarrassed. It was adorable, but you decided to have mercy and put him out of his misery.

“The only thing you should be sorry about is the fact you stopped cuddling me. Now get back here because I’m cold again,” you pouted.

He practically melted at the sight of your cute pout. Your shirt had ridden up exposing the bare skin of your belly and side and he wanted nothing more than to put his warm hand on your skin while he kissed you.

The fact that the thought didn’t startle him made him realize just how far gone for you he was. There was no denying what he probably knew deep down all along. Now, he just wanted to kiss those lips that were pouting so sweetly at him.

“Can’t have you dying from hypothermia now can we?” he joked lightly as he slid back into bed, pulling you close.

His hand immediately went to the bare strip of skin, half resting on your clothed hip, half against your skin. His fingers stroked your skin absentmindedly and he swore he almost went breathless when you looked up at him, seriousness and sincerity in your eyes.

“Steve, I think I need to tell you something,” you whispered, bringing your bottom lip into your mouth between your top and bottom teeth.

It was a nervous habit of yours, something he knew well. But in this moment he really wished that you’d stop doing that because it made him want to silence you and just kiss the life out of you right then.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “And don’t feel like you have to spare my feelings or anything when I tell you this, I just want you to be honest with me. Okay?”

“I’ll always be honest with you,” he promised, eyes searching your face.

You took a deep breath, ready to plunge into this head on. It was a huge risk and you were scared, but you never lied to Steve. You had to be honest about how you felt for him, even if he didn’t return those feelings.

“I don’t know how it happened, or when, but at some point along the way in these last few years I think I fell for you Steve. I don’t know how the hell it took a hotel bed for me to figure it out and I’m sure there’s some euphemism in there somewhere but I don’t want to be just friends anymore, Steve. I don’t think I can be. I realize that probably just put you on the spot and I’m sorry, please don’t feel like you have to respond now or-”

“Y/N,” he cut you off.

You winced, realizing you were babbling.

“I hope you got the gist of that,” you murmured.

“I did,” he smiled.

You were silent as his gaze broke from yours and he looked up, as if trying to find the courage to say whatever he had to say next, up on the ceiling. You tried to prepare yourself for whatever it was—good or bad, thought you expected the worst. What you didn’t expect was what he said next.

“I’ve fallen so fucking hard for you, Y/N.”

His voice was tentative, but his words were sure. His eyes lowered back to yours and you saw the earnestness in them.

“I guess we’ve been too stupid to realize it all this time, huh?” you joked half-heartedly.

“The important thing is that we finally did.”

His hand cupped your cheek, the pad of his thumb tracing over your bottom lip.

“I can’t imagine my life without you,” he whispered, “And I don’t want to. You know there’s this term called a Twin Flame.”

You watched him, listening intently.

“Technically it means one soul split across two bodies. But it kind of feels like us. You’re a part of me in so many ways and you truly have half of my soul.”

He said nothing else as he brought your face to his and pressed his lips softly against yours.

You finally knew what people meant about seeing fireworks when kissing someone because it was truly like seeing them going off in your head all while feeling them in your heart. It wasn’t weird to be kissing Steve, it felt right. It felt like Christmases and birthdays rolled into one. It was like a freshly fallen snow, before any tracks were made. The kiss was serene, but like it was meant to be.

You also learned that he was able to take your breath away with a single kiss.

When you’d parted, he looked as dazed as you felt. You were sure you had an identical expression on your face.

“Was that okay?” he asked, hesitantly.

“More than okay,” you smiled, lacing your fingers through his, this time holding his hand for a much different purpose.

He pulled you into him and your head nestled against his chest, much closer than you’d ever been. You could hear his heartbeat beneath his shirt, feel the warmth of his body against yours, experience the tingles that his light touch on your bare skin under your shirt was giving you.

His legs were tangled with yours, your hips pressed closely to his abdomen. It elicited other feelings within you and it made you realize there was still so much more of Steve to learn and experience—but that was for another day.

“Go back to sleep,” he whispered against your hair, “It’s just barely past 7 and everyone else won’t be awake for hours.”

You nodded, eyes slipping closed before you could even get another word out. Within minutes you were fast asleep in his warm embrace, Steve slipping into slumber not long after you.

•

You and Steve were all smiles at breakfast and it didn’t take a genius to know your friends were suspicious.

“You look chipper this morning,” Eddie smirked, gaze darting back and forth between you and Steve, “Anything you’d like to share with the rest of the class?”

You and Steve shared a smile before you got up to refill your juice glass.

“Nope. Just had a really great night’s sleep,” Steve said.

“Is that what they’re calling sex now?” you heard Robin mutter.

You about spilled your glass of juice, trying to cover your laughs as you brought a hand to your mouth.

“It’s about time though, dude. I always knew you guys were soulmates,” Eddie was saying as you returned to the table.

You sat down and Steve wrapped his free arm around your waist, giving your side a loving pat. You reached over, stealing a piece of bacon off his plate and adding it to yours before you resumed eating.

The dynamic may have changed between you and Steve, but some things would never change.

He was your best friend, soulmate and twin flame all rolled into one. You were pretty damn lucky, if you did say so yourself.

411 notes · View notes

primroseparker · 2 years

Note

Hi there! I've had this idea stuck in my head for a while and I'd rather read it than write it lol -though I might write something myself eventually-

Reader strongly disliking physical touch from everyone but Steve, and him being completely oblivious to it. The rest of the friend group pointing it out and him refusing to believe them, so the whole lot decide to prove him wrong with some sort of masterplan. (Idiots in love am I right)

What do you think? Hope you have a great day xxx

The Only Exception || Steve Harrington x female!reader

Summary: Physical touch was something you despised, but as always, Steve’s touch was the only exception. When he refuses to believe that you actually hate the whole concept of it, the kids come up with a plan to prove him wrong.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: fluff, a tiny bit of angst, reader dislikes physical touch

A/N: I’m sorry it took so long for me to write it. It was difficult because I’m the complete opposite (big fan of physical touch), but I tried my best to implement it in the story. I hope you like it! Also, this is not based on the Paramore song “The Only Exception”, I just thought that the title would fit this story lmao

The warm and bright rays of sunshine slip through the curtains, shining directly on your face and awakening you from your unconscious state. You squeeze your eyes shut and turn to face the other side. A hand comes up to your face, its thumb caressing your cheek slowly. You open your eyes and are met with Steve’s sleepy gaze.

“Hey,” he whispers as he gives you a small smile.

“G’morning,” you murmur as you put your arms around his waist and hug him close. “How long have you been up for?”

“Not long, I was just waiting for you to wake up,” he says nuzzling against your neck. He leaves a trail of soft kisses all the way from your jaw to your collarbone.

“I missed you last night,” he continues.

“I’m sorry, I had to stay later than planned because this customer would just not shut up,” you groan as you remember the encounter. He pulls back to meet his gaze with yours.

“I mean, he just kept going on and on about how his son was going off the rails with this so-called ‘satanic’ D&D game, saying that he was worried he would turn out to be a cult member,” rubbing the sleep from your eyes and then raising your arms above your head to stretch.

“All I did was ask how he was doing, which is obviously a question that is asked clearly out of courtesy. I’m just a retail worker working minimum wage, not a therapist,” you scoff and roll your eyes in frustration.

He looks at you with an amused expression. He loved that you felt comfortable enough to rant about your feelings, knowing full well that you had trouble doing so with most people. But he also found it entertaining because of the way you told your stories.

“Don’t worry about it, dove. I’m just glad to wake up next to you,” he says, voice still raspy from sleep. He pulls you back into a hug and you close your eyes, letting the warmth from his touch embrace you like the world’s most comfortable blanket.

In the two months you and Steve had been dating, neither of you had discussed your love languages. He assumed yours was physical touch since you always welcomed his touch eagerly. Because of this, he never had a reason to think otherwise. But in reality, you were never one to favor physical closeness. Your childhood lacked the expression of love through touch because your parents were never affectionate with you, or with each other for that matter.

Before Steve, any kind of physical closeness would make you uncomfortable. However, having him that close would not only make you happy but calm. His hugs and kisses were like a breath of fresh air. It was something new and exciting, yet calming when you were stressed or low-spirited. Despite loving having him that close, his touch was the only one you tolerated. You, of course, were certain that his love language was physical touch; it was as clear as day and everyone knew it.

“Come on, let’s go get some breakfast so we can help set up for Dustin’s birthday party,” you say as you let go of Steve and sit up into a cross-legged position. He throws his arm over his face and sighs.

“Alright, just give me five more minutes of sleep and then I’ll get up to shower,” he mumbles into his arm.

“Five minutes will turn into ten, ten will turn into twenty, and next thing you know we’ll be an hour late, Steve”

“Fine,” he groans, “I’m getting up now.”

Your mouth quirks up at the corners with contentment. You love living with Steve. Moments of simple domestic bliss are your favorite, especially ones like these. Mornings with him are so soft. It is when you would let your guard down, allowing yourself to be who you really are, and it’s the same way for him. Uncrossing your legs, you give him a kiss on the forehead and get up from the bed. The two of you need to be at the Wheeler’s place soon to set up for the party, and if there’s one thing you dislike more than anything is being late.

“Stevie, you better be in the shower by the time I come back!” you shout as you head to the kitchen to make breakfast for the two of you. As much as you love Steve, mornings, when you had somewhere else to be, were not easy.

—

“Happy birthday, Henderson,” Steve smiles as he embraces Dustin in a tight hug. The setup for the party had been pretty easy. All of the kids had offered to help make their friend’s birthday a special one, especially after everything that happened with the Upside Down.

“Thanks, man,” Dustin responds.

“You know, it would’ve been a hell of a lot easier if you had told us what you wanted as a present instead of having us guess,” Steve says while rolling his eyes.

Although he loved the kid, he hated trying to find a present that would be perfect to Dustin’s liking. It was incredibly stressful to him because he wanted it to be perfect. He wanted him to have a present that he would actually enjoy, something that Steve hadn’t experienced in his childhood as a result of his parent’s emotional negligence. Sure, they always provided him with anything he needed, but they never bothered to give him the attention and affection all childrens need. Every year, his parents would always give him money to buy whatever he wanted, even as a child. The thought that goes into buying a loved one something they want is much better than an envelope with a hundred bucks and a half-hearted congratulations.

“I’m sure I’ll love whatever you got me. Plus, where’s the fun in just telling you?”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, dude. It better be something you like, otherwise I’m making you bike to return it for something you actually like. I’m not wasting gas on that,” he grumbles. You give him a knowing smile, after all, you know him well enough to know that he was all bark and no bite. At least not when it came to the people he loved. It seemed like Dustin knew it too because he just chuckles at his remark.

“Happy birthday, Dustin,” you smile as you hand the young teen a blue envelope that contains a birthday card.

“Thanks, y/n!” he says much more enthusiastically. Suddenly, he wraps his arms around you, with your own pinned against your side. You become still as a statue, not knowing how to respond to his touch. Not wanting to hurt his feelings, you bring your right hand up to his back and give him a quick pat. He seems to get the hint because he drops his arms and gives you a slight smile.

“Steve, could you help me carry one of my new inventions? It’s in the garage and it’s just too heavy for me to carry it,” Dustin says.

“Sure, sure,” Steve responds. “Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own?” he says as he turns to you.

“I’m sure. I’ll go ask Mrs. Henderson if she needs help with anything,” you smile reassuringly.

“Alright,” he says, giving you a small peck on the cheek before turning on his heel to follow Dustin.

Dustin opens the door to the garage, finding the rest of his friends sitting on the floor playing a boardgame.

“What are you guys doing here?” Steve questions.

“Dustin’s mom got mad at us for yelling while playing the game. She told us to either tone it down or come to the garage. So, we decided to come here instead,” Lucas shrugs. “What are you doing here? I thought you would be hanging out with the others,” he adds. Steve assumes that by the others he means Robin, Jonathan, Nancy, and you.

“I was, but Henderson over here wanted me to help him carry something that was apparently too heavy for him. Which is bullshit because I know for a fact he would rather struggle to carry something than ask for my help.”

With that, he turns to look at Dustin. “So what’s going on, dude?” he questions, brow arched in suspicion.

“When were you going to tell me that y/n hates hugs?” Dustin asks.

“What are you talking about? She loves hugs,” he says, surprise crossing his face.

“You know damn well what I’m talking about. It sure would’ve been better if you had told me before I hugged her today.”

Steve shoots him a quizzical look and asks, “I seriously have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Everytime we hug her she either awkwardly stands very still with her arms pinned to her sides or just dodges the gesture altogether,” Max joins in, “I thought you knew that already.”

“You guys have no idea what you’re talking about,” Steve says.

“It’s true, last week when she helped me with my History homework, I tried to give her a hug but she just stook out her hand for a handshake instead,” Will reveals.

“And a few minutes ago she just stood very still and gave me a pat on the back while I gave her a hug,” Dustin adds.

“I think I would know if my girlfriend disliked physical touch,” Steve insists.

“You think we’re making it up? Fine, we’ll prove you wrong, Dingus,” Dustin fires back. He goes up to Mike and whispers something in his ear. Mike nods and turns to whisper the same thing in El’s ear.

“Let’s go,” Dustin says. The rest of the kids follow him, Steve trailing right behind them. They head to the living room, where you’re sitting on the couch reading your book.

“Hey, y/n,” Dustin greets you. You look from your novel, and smile at the kids.

“Hey,” you answer back.

“We just wanted to thank you for everything you have done for us. I mean, from helping us out with our English and History homework, to giving us rides to the arcade and helping decorate for my birthday party,” he continues.

“Yeah, and thanks for the relationship advice you gave us earlier this week,” Mike comments as he glances at El.

“There’s no need to thank me, I’m happy to help out however I can,” giving them a gentle smile.

“Can I give you a hug?” El asks shyly.

“Oh, uh, sure,” you mutter. You step forward in her direction and wrap your left arm around her shoulders for a brief second. When you step back, you give her a tight smile and put your hands in the pockets of your jacket.

“Are you okay, y/n?” Lucas asks.

“Of course,” you reply.

“Did I do something wrong? Was my hug that bad?” El asks you, a frown forming on her face.

“What? No, not at all. You’re a great hugger El” you quickly say.

“Or do you just don’t like us? Is that why you hate our hugs?” Dustin inquires, brows furrowed in worry.

“It’s not you guys, I promise. I’m just not that fond of physical touch,” you admit, an apologetic look on your face.

“What? All this time you’ve hated it and you couldn’t even tell me?” Steve asks, a hurtful look crossing his face.

“We’ll leave you two to talk,” Dustin says quietly. They all glance at each other in confusion, but Dustin nods towards the hallway that leads back to the garage. They exit the room, leaving the two of you in awkward silence.

“Does that mean that you’ve hated all of the kisses and hugs I’ve been giving you this entire time?” Steve asks, eyebrows lowered and pulled together.

You close the space that separates the two of you and bring your hands up to his face to softly cup his cheek.

“Baby, I’ve loved every single kiss and hug you have given me so far. Look, I know we’ve never discussed this, but physical touch doesn’t come easy to me. I mean, the kids just proved it,” you laugh humorlessly.

“My parents were never affectionate with me, so anything that involves touching other people makes me uncomfortable. I never thought that it would change, but then you came along and became my only exception,” you continue, “Trust me when I say that nothing makes me happier than feeling you close to me.”

“But why didn’t you say anything, dove?” he asks softly, tilting up your chin and cupping both of your cheeks. You take your hands off his face and hold his wrists instead, as if to keep his hands in place.

“It never came up. Plus, I didn’t want you to think that I hated your touch,” you answer in the same tone.

“I’m sorry for not saying anything,” you add.

“And I’m sorry for not noticing it sooner,” he responds.

“I guess we’re just two idiots in love, huh? Too blinded to see the obvious,” he chuckles.

“I guess we are,” you chuckle as well, standing on your toes to meet your lips with his.

—

Taglist: @shyawayfromme @untitledarea

For some reason I couldn’t tag most of the people that answered my google form taglist, just these two. Not sure why it’s happening but sorry!

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #stranger things fanfiction #fanfic #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x reader fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic

2K notes · View notes

primroseparker · 2 years

Note

prompt idea! dramatic confession of love in the rain with friends to lovers reader & eddie. maybe like arguing outside about the fact that somethings been off with one of them & demanding an answer, love confessing ensues then BAM! rain kiss 🫢

i love this request so much, i adore writing love confessions! ♥ | 1.7k words (got a little carried away lol)

It started with a simple question.

"Do you mind getting another ride home today?" Eddie had said.

You didn't mind, not really. Of course, you used to take every opportunity to spend time with him, but you could understand that he had his own life and sometimes his plans didn't line up with yours. It was okay.

When he explained the reason behind the question, however, you felt yourself wither and dwindle like a dying flower.

"I'm going to take Aubrey home, so...you know."

You did know. Aubrey lived on the other side of town, completely off the route you and Eddie took to get home every day. He wasn't just giving her a ride; it was something. Something else. Maybe some kind of date, even.

Date.

You felt your heart three times heavier as you forced a smile and said, almost capable of hearing the tiny pieces of it tinkling inside your chest own chest, "Oh, sure. It's okay."

And then, before you could stop yourself, you did the stupidest thing one could possibly do; you had asked.

"So…did she ask you out on a date or something?"

You'd poked him in the ribs playfully then, trying to look more relaxed than you really felt as the words left your mouth.

If Eddie noticed it, he didn't let it show. He actually laughed, looking a little embarrassed, and replied, "Actually, I kind of asked her."

Wonderful.

You couldn't stop your eyebrows from rising then, whatever's left of your heart from breaking. You tried to avoid looking like the kicked puppy you felt. Probably didn't succeed as much as you'd like to say.

In general, you were good at doing this — you'd been doing it ever since you realized your feelings for Eddie Munson went far beyond a mere affection between two good friends. It was almost second nature — both being in love with him and hiding it.

Eddie hadn't noticed anything wrong when you smiled that day, just as he doesn't notice anything wrong with the smile you're giving him now, in the school hallway, a week later.

He's so blind when it comes to you.

"I'm not going home with you today," you tell him, closing your locker and packing your backpack carefully.

It's been no less than torture letting Eddie drive you around in his van for the past few days; his van, where everything smells like him, where he strikes up conversations and tells jokes and makes you laugh like everything is fine.

Because everything is fine to him. You're the one who couldn't help but fall in love. Like an idiot.

You didn't want to risk him finding out that whatever he had going on with Aubrey made you jealous, though, so you'd forced yourself to let him pick you up and drive you home from school every day while he remained blissfully unaware.

He seems surprised when your words sink in.

"No?"

"I have to go somewhere else first," you lie. It comes off easily when you're not looking at him.

"It's all right, I'll go with you."

"No, it's fine. I think it'll take a little while."

"I don't mind."

Smile, just smile. "Eddie, really, it's okay."

"It's raining a lot," he argues, looking awfully worried. "You can't just walk home. Do you even have an umbrella with you?"

"Yes," another lie. It's downhill from here, you can tell. "Don't worry."

You feel like you're going to get burned any moment now if you don't get away from Eddie.

Most people have already gone home — you've been studying in the library and Eddie's been at Hellfire with the boys, so you two had stuck behind. The empty hallway makes everything seem worse somehow, his worried gaze on you heavier.

He lets you take three steps before grabbing your arm.

"Wait," he says, brows furrowed, eyes searching for something in your expression. Whatever it is, he finds it. "Something's wrong. What's wrong, Y/N?"

Eddie never had much of a sense of personal space — he's invading yours now, very much, and everything just got a lot more complicated; his fingers around your elbow are warm, the eyes that stare back at you are kind. He smells the same as always: leather, spearmint, cigarette smoke masked by cheap cologne.

You look at your arm and wonder what are the odds you'll be able to break free and walk out the front door without him following you. Not good.

"Nothing," you manage to say. "Nothing is wrong. What are you talking about?"

Perhaps the fake smile is losing its power, you think, because Eddie doesn't look like he'd be giving up anytime soon.

"Something is off with you these days," he insists.

"Eddie, look, I need to go-"

"Have I done something wrong?"

"What?" you sound horrified, because you are horrified; as if Eddie would ever be able to intentionally hurt you. It would have been funny if you weren't so sad. "No, of course not!"

"Then why are you avoiding me?"

"I'm not, I-" It's hard to get the words out with him so close, with his hand on your arm, with his eyes on yours-

Oh, how you'd like to disappear right now.

“Did I forget something?” Eddie looks terribly guilty, even though there's nothing to blame himself for. "Your birthday is still pretty far, so-"

You hate this.

"Eddie-" you try, but he's too far inside his own head to hear. He's probably going over a list of things he could have done to make you mad right now.

“-did we make any plans that I forgot?”

"No, I-"

“Did I say something wrong? Shit, I did, didn’t I?”

“Eddie-”

"-I'm sorry if I said- I don't know what I said, but I am sorry, I-"

“I love you.”

It's a mistake. You instantly know that, you know that the very moment the words leave your mouth without permission, a confession you never meant to make. One look at the way Eddie's entire body seems to tense up, at how his lips freeze mid-sentence, parted but not uttering any words, any sound... it's more than enough to tell you it was a fucking mistake.

Time seems to slow down, each second stretching impossibly beyond normal. The only sound that can be heard is the rain. Heavy, rhythmic, coming down without pause.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

You pull your arm back and pretty much run towards the door as if you might distance yourself from the stupid words you just blurted out by doing so.

You think you hear a mumble of "shit" behind you, but you don't stop to look, don't turn around to be sure. Your eyes are prickling and you can taste the tears that ain't coming.

Rain. You're still running anyways. You're soaked and still running, stumbling because it's hard to see through the storm now, hair sticking to your neck, heavy breathing pushing your chest up and down, your face wet from both the rain and your tears.

The rain...almost as cruel as whoever was responsible for making you fall in love with a friend like Eddie.

A friend who's now calling your name — a yell in the distance muffled by the sound of the rain and of your breaking heart. You ignore it. You can't look at him. Not now.

He insists.

“Shit! You- you can't just tell me you love me and walk away! HEY!”

You avoid the hand that tries to grab your arm this time and keep walking across the parking lot as fast as you can.

But did luck ever stay on your side?

No.

Your head bumps right into Eddie's chest.

He holds you by the shoulders, palms gentle on your now cold skin, eyes gentler when you lift your chin up to look at him. You try to back away, attempting to squirm out of his grasp.

Not this time, though. Eddie holds you tight this time.

"Are you out of your mind?" he says, shouting to be heard over the storm...or maybe just because he's angry. "You can't just storm off like that with weather like this!"

Eddie's hands slide along your arms and then drop from your fingers.

He's taking his leather jacket off.

You take a step to the right to try and go around him, seizing the opportunity; he, however, steps to the left and holds the jacket over your head — as if you weren't already soaked from head to toe. As if he wasn't soaked from head to toe, too.

Eddie looks angry.

And too close.

Of course he looks angry, you think, I blew it.

“Eddie-”

“You're an idiot,” he says. “How could you just take off running like that? You could get fucking pneumonia out here!”

“I didn't mean to-” he's close, very close, and you feel silly, high, dizzy. Everything and nothing at the same time. The words you want to say are lost inside your mind like a paper boat drifting at the sea.

Eddie is still holding his damn jacket over your head like the goddamned gentleman he is.

Despite the closeness, you feel like you need to yell in order to be heard, your voice high and hoarse. “Just let me go!”

You try again and again, but he skillfully foils every one of your plans to walk away from him.

"No!"

"I am sorry! I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have said that, I just…I just need some time! Just give me time and I'll get over you, Eddie, I swear, and everything will get back to normal and you and I can just pretend it never happened-"

In a heartbeat, he's tossing the jacket to the floor and his lips are on yours.

You gasp, too surprised, too tense, and Edde slides a hand to the small of your back, pressing you against his body with something akin to desperation — both of you so entirely soaked from the rain, so entirely frightened, so entirely in love.

When the kiss ends, it's because both of you are out of breath; Eddie doesn't let the space between the two of you grow any further, though.

“Don't get over me,” he pleads, pretty much breathing into your mouth, forehead against yours, eyes fluttering closed. “Don’t ever get over me.”

It seems like your heart is about to jump out of your mouth. He leans in again and you don't have it in you to do anything other than the same.

Letting yourself be kissed is easy. Too easy. It also makes it easier to forget everything that brought the two of you here — the confession, the feelings you believed were unrequited until now… Aubrey.

Aubrey.

You realize you broke the kiss and whispered her name when Eddie opens his eyes to look at you.

“I mean, you and Aubrey…the date…”

He squeezes your waist and laughs, "The date lasted 10 minutes before she told me the obvious."

“Obvious?”

His smile grows.

“That I love you.”

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primroseparker · 2 years

Note

Broken Promises || Eddie Munson x female!reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: angst but fluff at the end

A/N: Hi! Thank you for requesting this, I enjoyed writing it so much!!

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s it,” you say as you roll your eyes and cross your arms in a defensive stance.

“Yeah, I did. Thanks for that by the way. You know, if you didn’t want to drive me you should’ve just said so,” you mutter as your eyes begin filling with tears.

You turn back to your house and close your front door.

Why do I have to be so stupid? you think as you make the final touch-ups on the decorations.

—

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Mrs. Y/l/n,” he apologizes as his cheeks redden. “I’m supposed to pick up y/n today”

“She already left, Eddie,” your mom says in confusion. “She rode her bike to school this morning”

“I see,” he says, “well, I’m sorry for waking you up. Have a good day” as he heads back to his van.

I have to make things right, he thinks. I have to prove to her that I’ll never break any of my promises ever again.

As the sun begins to rise, he begins setting up a plan to win you back.

—

“What are you doing here, Eddie?” you question.

“Be serious, Eddie,” you laugh.

“Oh, I am,” he insists as he begins kneeling before you grab his forearm.

“I know and I’m really sorry for that. But you didn’t have to break up with me that way; you could have just told me instead of–”

“So you’re not breaking up with me?” he asks with a hopeful smile.

“No, I’m not.”

“Well that’s a relief,” he says as he lets out a huge breath; body slumping and losing its stiff posture.

“Well, I brought some things to make up for my bad behavior,” Eddie says as he picks up the flowers and bag from the ground. “Here, take a look at them,” he offers as he hands you the gifts.

“You, Eddie Munson—the guy always going off about how libraries are a waste of space and are incredibly boring—went to one to research the meaning of each flower?” you ask in surprise.

“Pretty in Pink? I thought you hated that movie. Oh my god! Hostess Pudding Pies?!” you ask with wide eyes while grinning so hard your cheeks ache.

“Yeah well, that movie might not be my favorite but I know for sure that it’s yours. And yes, I bought you those disgusting so-called snacks you love so much too,” he chuckles.

He puts an arm around your shoulder and leads you to your house.

“No more broken promises, sweetheart,” he vows as he turns his head to kiss your temple. You giggle and wrap your arms around his waist.

—

Taglist: @k4makaze @lover4stpt2

#eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson #stranger things

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primroseparker · 2 years

Text

On a Tuesday | p. 1 of 2

Peter Parker x fem!reader

Summary: Life had been a bit lonely – that is until Peter Parker brightened up your life. On a Tuesday. And when that friendship seems to fizzle out on a Tuesday? You’re sure the universe is playing some sort of trick on you.

Word Count: 8,700!

Warnings: Reader has she/her pronouns. Fluff. Eventual friends to lovers in the next part. Hurt and eventual comfort. Angst (a lot of angst, but it gets better). Uncle Ben’s death.

A/N: This story is a bit sadder than my other ones (sorry) but I really enjoyed playing with these characters and following their friendship over the years. Oh and I made some canon changes, like meeting Gwen and Harry in middle school rather than college. Thank you for reading, I love hearing what you guys think! <3

Keep reading

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primroseparker · 2 years

Text

enough for you | e.m.

summary: in which you and eddie munson break up. based on the song by olivia rodrigo.

warnings: none really, cheating if you squint, angst, eddie being stupid, unhappy ending (sorry)

word count: 5,076

would y’all want me to do a sour series? like each song correlates with a separate fic? let me know because i’m thinking about it :) mwah

————————————————————————

you don’t know how you ended up in your current situation. you did know, but you didn’t understand how it could happen. your ex-boyfriend of 2 years, eddie munson, was laughing at a comment his new girlfriend made. she was sitting in your spot at the hellfire club table. his hand held hers like it had once held yours, his thumbs rubbing circles on her palm. what was most shocking to you was that his new girlfriend was chrissy cunningham, the head cheerleader at hawkins high. she wasn’t a terrible person, far from it, but you couldn’t help despising her for replacing you in eddie’s heart and life. you were jealous of how eddie was wrapped around her finger, at how she got the treatment you deserved.

it had all started six months ago when he had first done a drug deal with her. you weren’t suspicious or upset at all, you knew eddie would never do anything to hurt your relationship. however, something had happened in a one week time frame from his deal to them being practically joined at the hip. you knew something terrible had happened but he never let you in on what did happen. the entire week while eddie was practically missing and you were beyond worried, afraid he was dead, and then he came back and was suddenly best friends with chrissy. you didn’t say anything because you weren’t the jealous type, you understood that eddie could have friends that were girls and that wasn’t a problem. you didn’t even have an issue with eddie not telling you what had happened.

what you did have an issue with was how eddie started to detach from your relationship, and how fast he did. he started flaking on your after school hangouts because he would take chrissy to your guys’ spot in the woods instead. when he touched you, it was as if he didn’t want to. he stopped calling you at night like he would to say goodnight. he stopped waiting for you by your classes. he would cancel your dates on short notice, so often that you stopped reminding him or getting ready because you knew a cancellation would come. when you would hang out, it was awkward. he stopped complimenting you, which hurt a lot. you missed when he would say how pretty you looked in the morning, how you made the room brighter, how he loved the way you styled your hair, how you looked great in his clothes. the worst part about the compliments stopping was when you brought it up to him.

“eddie, did i do something wrong?” you asked quietly.

you were sitting on the couch in his trailer, your bodies not touching, a horror movie playing on the tv.

“no? why?” he questioned, not even looking at you.

“you stopped complimenting me. you used to do it all the time, like, like how i look good in your shirt or how you like my hair. i don’t know, i just feel like you’re mad at me.” you looked at him, your eyes pleading he look back at you.

“maybe i’m just not the compliment type,” he said nonchalantly.

you knew his answer was absolute bullshit. you had heard him compliment chrissy all the time when she was around. he would compliment her ponytail, how she looked nice in her cheer outfit, how nice her smile was. he would say that when you were right there with him. so when he didn’t even tell you he wasn’t mad at you, rather he wasn’t for compliments, you sat there in shock. the tears welled in your eyes. the lump in your throat made you feel like you couldn’t breathe. your chest was so tight. you wanted him to tell you he loved so badly. you wanted him to touch you. you wanted him to look at you, to really look at you and see how broken you were. you wanted him to want you, to love you.

“i want to go home, eddie,” you spoke as you stood up to grab your things.

he looked at you with confusion, asking you why.

“please drive me home,” a tear rolling down your cheek.

“what just happened? what’s going on?” he pressed.

“you found someone more exciting and now you’re gone. you barely touch me anymore. you haven’t told me you’ve loved me in a week. i’m not enough for you.” you looked at eddie still sitting on the couch.

and then you fought, not a small one, a huge one. he accused you of using chrissy as a scapegoat to dump him. he called you emotional and obsessive. he told you that you’d never be satisfied. you tried explaining that he was treating chrissy like his girlfriend, how he was taking her to your spot, how he stopped caring for you, but it’s like he couldn’t listen. you tried telling him how much you loved him, you loved him with all of your soul. eddie was it for you. you had planned to get out of hawkins together when you graduated. your fight had escalated to yelling, both of you on separate sides of the room.

“you’re being stupid, nothing is going on with chrissy and i! maybe we should just break up.” he yelled at you. you were expecting those words, but god did it hurt a million times more than you thought.

“i’ll just walk home. no need to drive me, don’t want you to feel a burden for driving your ex-girlfriend home.” you said softer. you slipped off the hoodie he had given you months ago, folding it and placing it on the table. he didn’t say anything back. he watched as you were sobbing, your body shaking. he watched you walk out of the door, leaving you to walk home alone as the sun was starting to set. the world was crumbling under your feet with each step. you waited and waited for him to pull up in his van and apologize, to have you get in and he’d drive you home himself. but he never came.

when you got home your body was beyond exhausted. you wanted to throw up as you walked into your room and landed on your bed. you needed sleep desperately, your cheeks soaked and your eyes puffy. when you woke up the next morning you had told your parents you felt ill, you couldn’t go to school. when eddie didn’t show up to pick you up for school, the realization of the breakup really set in. you were a mess. you had packed up all of his belongings in a trash bag, planning on dropping it off at his trailer when you felt ready. and then you missed a second day of school, and a third. it was the third day when robin stopped by your house to check on you. she had heard from steve, who had heard from dustin, that eddie and you had broken up, and she knew you’d need a friend. you had confided in her about your feelings about eddie and chrissy, and now robin was there to pick up the pieces that eddie had broken.

it was hard to go back to school and try to move on. chrissy had taken your spot at the table in the time that you had missed school. the hellfire boys missed you desperately, their hearts aching when you weren’t at school and seeing chrissy where you had sat. they watched you from afar. you stopped wearing your bright and happy clothes to school. you stopped styling your hair like eddie used to love. you became very closed off, very quiet. they watched as the jocks messed with you even more now that you and eddie were done. if the freak didn’t even want you then something terrible must be wrong with you. it didn’t help that jason had lost his girlfriend to eddie. the boys watched as you would sit at nancy and robin’s table, never talking, no matter how many times the girls tried to get you to. they watched as you secluded yourself to the library. they were watching you, while eddie was watching chrissy.

they wanted to bring it up to eddie so badly, to tell him to look at what he did to you. you had been so bubbly once, so happy, and now you were a mess. your grades had slipped and you were so close to not walking the stage in may. mike and dustin had overheard you talking with nancy once, they didn’t mean to walk by and catch the conversation, but they were glad they did. they heard your quiet sobs as you had explained to nancy how the fight had really messed with you. they watched as nancy held you in her arms, hearing you talk about how you missed making him coffee in the mornings, how you couldn’t bear to listen to his favorite songs anymore, how you felt like you weren’t enough. they wanted to smack eddie. how could he just ignore the two years you had dated and throw it all away for a cheerleader who didn’t give him an ounce of attention until she needed some drugs. nancy had reassured you that one day you’ll find someone new, someone that you’ll be everything for, and that eddie will be just a thought in the past. you just had to graduate and you could leave hawkins, leave eddie in the past.

now there was only a month until graduation. you were ready to leave, your room practically fully packed. you had secured a job in michigan, far enough from eddie but close enough to your friends and family to visit. so you sat at the table watching eddie treat chrissy like you should’ve been treated. you were able to save your grades. you were able to start talking at lunch again. the hellfire boys, excluding eddie, were grateful you were starting to get better slowly. you had been hanging out with steve, robin and nancy far more than before. you’d occasionally see dustin, mike and lucas as they were attached to steve, and eddie was never part of the conversation when they were around. they had made a pact that eddie was off limits, you didn’t deserve more pain.

the boys didn’t notice eddie walking up to the table while they were in the middle of a conversation about you, specifically about you moving to michigan. they didn’t notice that chrissy wasn’t attached to him, how he looked upset.

“yeah, she said she got this gig at one of the best book stores in michigan, something about being an assistant to the owner. apparently it’s paying well because she’s so excited to go,” dustin said as he unwrapped his sandwich.

“she’s gonna be moving into a family friend’s guest house and going to community college out there,” he said before taking a bite.

eddie was now sat in his designated chair and interrupted the conversation.

“what girl are we talking about, dustin?” he asked, his face resting on his palm.

the boys looked at him awkwardly, they felt that eddie didn’t deserve to know your business. they looked away from eddie and talked to each other with their facial expressions and eyes. eddie was annoyed, why couldn’t they just say her name, it’s not like it would be a big deal. he watched as dustin stuttered out your name, not being able to look eddie in the eyes. before eddie could respond, dustin changed the conversation and asked where chrissy was.

“oh, um, we aren’t seeing each other anymore.” he replied quietly, scratching the back of his neck.

the boys all gave (fake) sympathetic sorries before switching to a totally different conversation, leaving eddie to keep himself company. it was then when eddie looked at you, truly looked at you, for the first time in months. he slightly frowned seeing you with your head down in a book as nancy and robin conversed. your hair was in a plain ponytail and you were wearing plain clothes, not your usual designs or colors. he was also confused why you wouldn’t be attending berkley in the fall, that was your dream school and he swore he heard you had gotten in. what he didn’t know was that you had declined berkeley at the height of your grades mishap and heartbreak. nancy caught eddie staring at you and gave him a nasty stare, eddie quickly looking away. his cheeks turned red and he wasn’t interested in the food sat in front of him anymore.

he wasn’t even heartbroken over the break up with chrissy. they had both realized that bonding over shared trauma was a terrible way to start a relationship and they weren’t really compatible. she didn’t quite enjoy his hobbies and interests (like you had) and he didn’t really vibe with the popular lifestyle. she wasn’t interested in dungeons and dragons like you were and she didn’t really want to go to the hellfire sessions. he didn’t go to any parties with chrissy and he never went to the games to watch her cheer. they just didn’t work well. sure he was upset that he was single, but he wasn’t heartbroken over losing chrissy. the weeks leading up to graduation came by faster than eddie had thought. he was walking down the stage as his name was called, grabbing his diploma and spotting his uncle in the crowd. it took him three times, but he finally graduated. he had spotted you in the crowd. you weren’t looking at him walk the state, of course you wouldn’t. he wanted to talk to you after the ceremony was over. he wanted to see how you were doing but he didn’t want to ruin your special day. you worked so hard and you deserved to celebrate. he did hear from dustin that you’d be leaving in a week. he had one week to talk to you before you were gone.

the week went by painfully slow. he kept thinking about what he would say to you. he still hadn’t unpacked the trash bag of his belongings you ding dong ditched at his door. he thought a lot about you two during that week. he thought about how you two had been best friends before you started dating. he took you under his wing for hellfire and watched you blossom. he failed his senior year the first time to stay back with you another year, though he never told you that.

he thought about your first kiss at the spot in the woods.

you two had been sitting at the bench at your secret spot in the woods. you were absentmindedly reading the first lord of the rings book while eddie was smoking a joint. he was watching you with adoration, he was a goner. he swore he was in love with you and that you were destined to be together. it was a pretty day for hawkins. the sun was shining, it wasn’t too cold and the breeze was comforting. eddie had cleared his throat to get your attention, his heart soaring when you placed your bookmark on the page and looked up at him with a smile.

“i love you,” he grinned.

“i know, eds. i love you too,” you said softly, placing your hand on your book. he furrowed his eyebrows.

“no, like i’m in love with you. like when i pick you up in the mornings i love seeing your smile. i love when we hangout, even if we’re both silent like right now, because i get to be around you and for the time being it makes this town a little less shitty. i love how you giggle during hellfire. like, you’re it for me. i love you,” he said softly as he inches closer to you.

you two were facing each other and your heart was beating so fast. you had been crushing on eddie since you first spotted him in the cafeteria on your first day. you thought he was the most beautiful boy at school and it made your stomach flip when he smiled at you. the more you spent time with eddie, the more you had fallen for him, and here he is devoting his love to you.

“oh, eddie,” you said softly and looked into his eyes. he looked incredibly nervous; he was waiting for the inevitable turn down.

“when i saw you in the cafeteria on my first day i was a goner. you really love me?” you blushed, running your fingers over his.

“i do, really. you don’t have to say it back but i just needed you to know,” he replied as he played with your fingers.

he was pleasantly surprised when your lips were on his, your hands cupping his cheeks. your lips were so soft. he could taste your honey and vanilla chapstick. his hands found your waste and pulled you closer, as if that was even possible. all of your worries melted, it was just the two of you against the world. he tasted like weed but you didn’t mind. your hands found his way into his hair, lightly tugging. you pulled away when you needed a breather, noticing how eddie’s pink lips were swollen. he was breathing hard, his cheeks red and his eyes soft on yours. you knew you looked like the same blushing mess as him and you giggled.

“i love you, eds. you’re it for me,” you whispered before pulling him in for a kiss again.

he thought about how when you’d sleepover, you’d let him sleep in when you’d wake up. you’d make coffee for the both of you, his in the garfield mug and yours in a plain mug. he had a very serious and tough image but he was a softy with you, hence the garfield mug. he thought about how you loved his favorite songs. he thought about your dates at the drive in. he thought about your smile, how you used to style your hair, how you looked in his clothes. he thought about how you’d be at every corroded coffin show. the crowd was very small but you’d always be there, sticking out like a sore thumb in your bright clothes compared to everyone else. he was so grateful for you to show up to every show, supporting his dreams and all.

he thought about when you asked him to come to california with him.

you both had been laying on his bed, you on your stomach with a book in your hands and eddie on his back, running his fingers up and down your spine as music played in the background. you had been wanting to ask eddie for so long to join you in california, but you were afraid he’d say no. he had his band to think about and you didn’t want to be selfish asking him to put you first. you did still have a year and half until you’d be heading to california (hopefully). your counselor told you that you’d totally be getting into berkley if you kept your grades and extracurriculars as you had so far. eddie could tell you weren’t reading anymore, your eyes on the same page they’d been for a few minutes.

“everything okay, princess?” he said softly, rubbing circles on your back.

“can i ask you something?” you asked shyly, sitting up so your body faced eddie’s.

“of course, you can ask me anything,” he looked at you, nerves running through his body.

“you don’t have to answer right now or say yes, i just- um. i don’t know why this is so hard to ask,” you sigh and put your face in your hands. you were so scared of rejection.

“will you move to california with me when we graduate?” you couldn’t look at him, your cheeks heating up.

eddie’s heart leaped in his chest. his soulmate asked him to move with her when they finish at hawkins and he couldn’t be more thrilled. he pulled your body into his, making you yelp. he chuckled and watched as you huffed and rolled your eyes. he took your hand in his.

“sweetheart, look at me,” he fake pouted.

“i want nothing more than to go with you to california when we graduate,” he smiled.

“but your band and your dreams… i don’t want to stop you from accomplishing all of it. your music is great and you deserve to shine,” you whispered, your eyes meeting his. you continued to play with his fingers.

“baby, you will always come first. you don’t need to worry about that. i can’t wait to get out of this shitty town with you. we’ll get a cute little place and a cat like you’ve always wanted and i can still play my music. you’ll go to berkeley and i’ll be there supporting you every step of the way. i promise.” you were practically crying at this point.

“hey, don’t go soft on me now,” he laughed softly, caressing your cheeks.

you mumbled a small sorry and were met with a soft kiss. eddie’s lips molded with yours perfectly. you could kiss eddie forever if you didn’t need to breathe. you loved that he tasted faintly of nicotine and weed. you loved how gentle his kisses were. you felt so loved with eddie.

he thought about the fight that led to the break up. if he could rewind time and take it all back he would. he would’ve told you about what happened in that week he and chrissy had gotten close. he would’ve told you that he did love you, that you were it for him. he wouldn’t have let you walk home by yourself that night. he would’ve done everything to get you back and he hated himself for not realizing sooner.

truthfully, it took chrissy telling him they weren’t compatible for him to realize how badly he fucked up. he realized that you weren’t wrong when you pointed out how he complimented chrissy and not you, how he had cancelled everything with you to be with chrissy, taking chrissy to your spot, and how he detached himself from you. you were right that he had stopped touching you, kissing you and telling you he loved you. he knew all the death stares from nancy and robin were deserved, that the boys being awkward around him was because of how shitty he was being, that when steve told him if he ever came back into family video he’d leave with two black eyes and a busted lip that it was deserved.

he waited until the day you were leaving to go talk to you. maybe if he pleaded for you to stay that you wouldn’t go. maybe then he’d get to kiss you again, he really missed how your lips tasted like honey and vanilla. maybe if he told you he was still in love with you that you’d come back to him. maybe he’d get to go to michigan with you, or maybe he’d convince you to run to california with him like you talked about before. maybe.

you were closing your car’s trunk when you heard eddie clear his throat. your heart felt heavy and you were already emotional from saying goodbye to everyone. it took everything in you to turn around and face him. when you turned, you wanted to disappear. he was looking at you, really looking at you, for the first time in so long. you had stared at him infinite times during the time you’d been broken up and he never returned a look, but today he did. he was wearing his usual reebok’s, ripped jeans, black sabbath shirt and denim vest outfit. his hair had gotten a little longer. his brown eyes were staring straight into yours. you hated to admit how beautiful he still was. your heart was racing and the silence was awkward.

“hi,” he breathed.

“hi,” you said softly.

“please don’t go,” he took a step closer to you.

“you don’t get to say that to me. not after everything.” you said harshly, and he deserved it.

“if i could take it all back, i would. i swear. i wanted to come talk to you sooner, but i- i didn’t know what to say, what i could say to make this all better.” he rambled.

“you can’t make it better, eddie. please don’t try. please let me leave without my heart breaking again.” you croaked. you could feel the tears threatening to spill. what a fucking joke this was, him thinking he could apologize.

“i’m sorry, i really am. you gotta believe me, sweetheart,” he pleaded. the pet name made you flinch. you hadn’t been called so in months, it was so unfamiliar.

“i was an asshole. i shouldn’t have detached like that. i shouldn’t have let you walk home alone crying. i shouldn’t have treated her like i should’ve treated you. i miss you, i really do. i miss the smell of your coffee in the morning. i miss seeing you at the bar for our shows. i miss our movie nights. i miss laying in bed with you while we listen to tapes. i miss watching you read on my bed.”

your heart was nearly going to explode. you felt angry, betrayed, hurt and annoyed. how dare he waltz back and try to beg for you after all that time, after everything he put you through? you were sobbing at this point. he tried to wrap his arms around you and was not shocked when you pushed him away.

“don’t touch me.” the irony. you wanted him to touch you for so long and now that he wanted to, you couldn’t let him.

“don’t you think i loved you too much to be used and discarded? don’t you think i loved you too much to think i deserve nothing? but don't tell me you're sorry, feel sorry for yourself because someday i’ll be everything to somebody else. they'll think that i am so exciting. and you'll be the one who's crying.” you mustered up the courage to defend yourself.

“you didn’t stop me when i told you i wasn’t enough for you. you left me crying and made me think that i did something wrong. you— you broke me. robin had to pick me up piece by piece. you left me for the girl you knew i was insecure about how i couldn’t be as great as.” you scoffed.

“and now you want to come back after seven fucking months? and what, expect me to fall back into your arms? am i that much of a joke to you?” you saw he was crying himself and you didn’t feel an ounce of guilt or pity.

“all i ever wanted was to be enough for you… you were it for me eddie. we were supposed to go to california together. this is all on you.” you jabbed your finger into his chest. “i hope you feel as much pain that i did. i hope you feel like a failure. i hope you feel like the world is crumbling under you. you don’t get to discard me and get me back because chrissy dumped you.” your voice was strong.

“the freak didn’t even want me, i must’ve been a huge fucking loser, right? that’s what the basketball team said. but you didn’t have an ounce of dignity to defend me. no. no, you let chrissy replace me.” your voice starting to raise.

he didn’t even try to defend himself, he deserved everything you were saying. he knew you were right. he didn’t defend you when the basketball team made comments about you. he just left you to fend for yourself. he let chrissy take your place at the table, in the woods, in his life. he can’t tell you why he did what he did. he can’t defend his actions. his chest was so heavy, his cheeks wet with tears. he saw how angry and hurt you were. he wasn’t lying when he said he would take it all back if he could. he’d give anything to see you at another corroded coffin show cheering him on. he’d give anything to be on his couch, your legs on his as you watch horror movies. he’d give anything to have another hellfire session with you at his side. he’d give anything to make you love him again.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” he repeated like a broken record.

“save your sorries because i don’t want them.” you wipe your cheeks. “i hate you, i really do.” you nearly whispered.

you turned on your heels and walked to the driver’s side door. you heard eddie’s footsteps retreat out of your driveway. you refused to look at him as you started your car and backed out, ready to drive to michigan for your fresh start. eddie watched you with blurry eyes. he hated himself for what he did. he hated that you hated him. he watched as your car started to go down the street, seeing how you didn’t look back to see him one final time. he couldn’t stop crying and was sure he looked pathetic. pathetic because he was standing in the driveway of his ex girlfriend who he screwed over big time, watching her leave to start over and have a life that could blossom without him holding her down.

you passed the “leaving hawkins” sign and felt relief. you had a ways to go until you got to michigan but at least you were out of the town that was suffocating you. of course you’d keep in touch with your friends and family, they were also told they could come to you whenever they wanted, an offer they very much would be taking up. you had stopped crying, your cheeks were puffy. you told yourself that eddie munson doesn’t get to break you anymore. you told him off, picked yourself up and made the decision to put you first. eddie munson was a fool for what he did to you, you vowed to waste no more tears on him. he didn’t deserve your tears. he didn’t deserve to have you in his arms again. he didn’t deserve to hold you down anymore. he didn’t deserve your love, your care, your smiles.. he didn’t deserve you.

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primroseparker · 2 years

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On a Tuesday | pt. 2 of 2

Peter Parker x fem!reader

Part One

Word Count: ~14,900 (i’m sorry)

Warnings: A bit of angst. Fluff. Reunited friends to lovers. Hurt/comfort. Canon level violence. Description of wounds and stitching it up. Some angst. Brief mention of throwing up. It gets just a teensy suggestive at the end. Light swearing.

A/N: Thank you so much for the love! I hope this ending fixes all the angst I caused. I really enjoyed writing these characters, and they took my story that was supposed to be short and ran with it lol. I hope you love it, and thank you for reading! I love hearing your thoughts <3

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primroseparker · 2 years

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Part 2 is posted, thank you to everyone that requested it :)

I Wish I Were… | | TASM!Peter Parker x female!reader

Summary: You and Peter have been childhood friends, yet he doesn’t know how you really feel about him. When he falls for someone else, you use your musical talents as a way to express your feelings.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Angst, unrequited love (?)

A/N: Hi, everyone! This is my first fic ever, so please excuse the horrible writing. I’ve wanted to write this for so long now. I got the idea when I was listening to “Heather” by Conan Gray for the thousandth time that week. Obviously, I don’t own the song or its lyrics, so all credits go to the wonderful Conan Gray for that masterpiece. Also, this is not proofread, sorry lol

You look at the sight before you. Spread out over the vibrant green grass were several couples having a picnic for the most romantic day of the year—Valentine’s Day. As you continue to walk through the park with a coffee in one hand and a muffin in the other, you notice how there are couples everywhere. The more couples you see, the faster you walk towards your destination. Of course you would forget about Valentine’s Day. It was the one day that you wish you could just skip altogether because it only served as a reminder that you were a victim of unrequited love. You near your best friend’s apartment building, quickly approaching the main entrance and climbing up the stairs. You knock twice on his door and wait for his response.

“If it’s you, y/n, you better have a good excuse for being this late,” he says as he opens the door. How anyone could ever miss this man’s beauty was still a mystery to you. Over the course of your friendship, only a few people had expressed interest in him. Most only saw him as the awkward nerdy guy whose forte was science and photography, not as someone who was sweet, caring, passionate, and attractive. But you saw him for who he truly was; it was exactly what had made you fall in love with him. His chocolate brown eyes looked at you with a hint of playful annoyance.

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primroseparker · 2 years

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I Wish I Were… || TASM!Peter Parker x female!reader (Part 2)

Summary: After accidentally listening to your heartbreak song, Peter realizes he needs to make things right with you before you push him away forever.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Mostly angst but also has fluff, friends to lovers, idiots in love lol

A/N: I’m sorry for taking so long, I hope you guys like it! And thank you to everyone who read the first part and requested a part 2 :)

Read part 1 here!

That night—the night that had changed everything for you—was spent with racing thoughts, unable to get Peter out of your mind; tossing and turning, your body aching to be in the arms of someone you couldn’t have. Your chest felt constricted, unable to expand enough to fill your lungs. It felt like your heart had been punctured thousands of times over by tiny pins. It felt like your whole body was heavier than usual, making it harder for you to get up from your bed. That strange, new feeling was something you couldn't name because it was unlike anything you had experienced before. It was difficult to place a name on it, but eventually, you figured out what it was. You had read about it in books hundreds of times and listened to many songs about it, so you thought you understood the emotion pretty well. But nothing could prepare you for the crushing sensation of unrequited love. Seeing and hearing about it was much different than actually experiencing it.

As the night went on, the pain became too much to bear. Would that feeling ever go away? How could you ever look Peter in the eye and not let the overwhelming sense of despair crush you? You knew that you needed to stay away from him to heal from such a deep wound. Seeing him again would only make matters worse for you. Eventually, the flow of tears slowed down and you drifted off to sleep.

When you awoke the next morning, your tear-stained pillow only served as a reminder of the heartache from the night before. It made you solidify your plans: you had to stay away from your best friend before the pain would break you. Self-preservation—something you had never been good at but would now have to master. Now, as you look out your window and watch the golden rays of the sun give a bright color to the clouds, a single teardrop falls from your eye. Saying goodbye to the person you loved the most would be easier said than done.

—

“Come on, please pick up,” Peter mutters as he holds his phone to his ear. It rings once, twice, and then goes to voicemail.

“Hey! You’ve reached y/n. Leave a message at the beep, and then wait by your phone until I call you back. Could be minutes, could be years. Beep!” you laugh.

“Y/n, please pick up. It’s been days since I’ve heard from you. Why did you disappear that night of the festival? If you’re mad at me, it’s completely fine. But please, I just need to know you’re okay. You have no idea how–” a beep cuts him off. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

A notification pops up on his screen.

Hey Pete. There’s a showing of that movie you like so much, Back to the Future, I think. Do you wannna go tonight? <3

His heart drops as he reads the name of your favorite movie. It was something reserved for the two of you. Other friends had their own special songs, but the two of you had a special movie. He had told Gwen about it only because he was so eager to share as much about himself as possible. At the time, he was only thinking about winning her over. He thought that his taste in movies and music would impress her and it certainly had. But he now regretted ever mentioning that to her.

I can’t tonight Gwen, sorry.

Oh, when will you be free?

I’m not sure.

Are you feeling alright?

Yes.

Well, just let me know if you’d like me to come over. I could bring your favorite snacks.

Peter?

Just when he thought he couldn’t feel any more guilty. He liked Gwen very much. Her bubbly personality was captivating to him. She made him happy, but not like you did. He had been thinking for the past few days, really analizing the way he felt about you and the way he felt about Gwen. He had been crushing on you since that day you had stood up for him in the third grade. But as time went on, he realized you would never see him as more than just a friend. Which explained why he decided to flirt with other girls; he had hoped to move on from his silly crush because he couldn’t handle losing your friendship. He had hoped to find that with Gwen, which is why he decided to ask her to be his girlfriend. What he didn’t expect, however, was your reaction to the situation. Never in a million years would he have guessed that your feelings went beyond friendship. Was there a way to fix what he had done? Could his wish finally become true, a life with you by his side as his girlfriend rather than only his friend?

As he remains seated on his couch thinking about you, the ringing of his phone brings him out of his reverie. When he sees your name on the screen, he quickly answers the call.

“Hey,” you whisper.

“Hey,” he breathes out, relieved to finally hear your voice. “Are you okay? Wait, that’s a stupid question. Of course you’re not okay. Look, I just want you to know that I’m really sorry for what happened that night at the fair with Gwen. But you shouldn’t have–”

“Wha– What are you talking about, Peter?” you stammer, your heart pounding. How could he know about the way you were feeling? You hadn’t said anything to him. Had he somehow figured out that you liked him? Was he about to reject your feelings once and for all?

“You know what? It doesn’t matter. I just called to say that I think we shouldn’t be friends anymore,” you continue without missing a beat. “I just don’t think you need me anymore,” you laugh humorlessly.

“What the hell are you talking about, y/n? How did you even come up with that idea?” he asks angrily.

“It doesn’t matter. You’ve been avoiding me these past months.”

He scoffs, “That’s not true.”

“Really? Then why have you canceled our plans so often? You seriously can’t tell me it wasn’t because of her.”

A moment of silence follows. “See? You can’t even deny it because you know I’m right. I’m just making things easier for the both of us,” you say. “Anyway, that’s pretty much it. I’m sorry for being such an inconvenience. I hope everything goes well for you. Take care of yourself,” you say in a broken whisper.

“Wait y/n, I’m–” he says but is quickly interrumpted by the sound of the call ending.

He stares at his phone is disbelief.

Had he just lost you forever? His best friend, the love of his life—how could he ever go back to his “normal” life without you in it? You were his rock. You stood by him when he struggled through the loss of his uncle; you were there every time he had come home bloody and bruised after his night patrols. You were there for every birthday; for every accomplishment and for every disappointment. You made him laugh until his stomach ached and he couldn’t breathe anymore. And it was all because he couldn’t bring himself to be truthful about the way he felt.

—

Three months had passed since you and Peter had last spoken with each other. Peter sat on the top of the Empire State Building, thinking back to the conversation he had with Gwen days after your last conversation.

“Oh,” she said after he explained everything and confessed his love for you. “I guess that makes sense,” she said with a small smile.

“You knew?” Peter asked in surprise.

“Well, a few months after we started talking, which was right after you stopped bragging about how great your movie and music taste was,” she rolled her eyes while she smirked, “all you could talk about was y/n. About how great she was, how she liked doing this and she liked doing that. I just didn’t put it together until after the night of the festival. The way you went after her right away and became suddenly very distant made sense. You were in love with her,” she said as she shrugged.

“I’m so sorry, Gwen. I never meant to hurt either of you,” he said in a broken voice. Even Gwen could see just how badly Peter felt about the whole situation.

“I know, Peter,” she reassured him as she placed a hand on his arm as a way to comfort him.

“Don’t worry about it. Just make sure she’s fine, alright? Give her time, of course. But make sure that she knows how you truly feel about her.”

“I will,” he whispered with tears in his eyes.

“We can remain friends, right?” she asked in a timid voice.

“Of course we can,” he said as the two shared a small smile.

He did give you your space. For about two weeks, anyway. After that, he just tried to reach you by call, text, and even went as far as going to your apartment every day. But you never answered. It was like you were a ghost. For three months all he could think about was you. Your laugh and the way your eyes lit up when you talked about something you were passionate about. Your angelic voice as you sang your original songs. How your eyes looked when the sun hit just the right angle. How he often had trouble concentrating on what you were telling him because all he could think was how your lips would feel against his.

He sighs as his mind comes back to the present. He puts his mask back on and launches himself into the air, shooting a web at a building and heads back to his place. As he swings from building to building, he looks down to the streets once in a while to check that everything is as it should be. Then, the sight of a familiar jacket catches his eye. You were well hidden from most people, in an alley that most would not bother to even look at. Hope begins to creep up on him, knowing that this was his chance to make things right. Then he hears your muffled sob. Concern and worry replaces any hapiness he had felt upon seeing you.

He drops to the ground on the opposite end of the alley as to not startle you, but fails miserably. You scream when a tall figure enters your peripheral vision.

“It’s me! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, y/n,” Peter says as he approaches you slowly.

You turn your head and quickly wipe your tears in an attempt to hide the fact that you were crying just a few seconds ago.

“No, it’s okay. I’ve just been really jumpy lately,” you mutter. You turn your head and finally look at him. You both stare at each other for what feels like years before speaking.

“Y/n, I’m sorry for being such an awful friend. I’m sorry for being so distant and avoidant for months. It’s just that…I was so in love with you that it scared the shit out of me. I was scared that you wouldn’t feel the same way so I looked for happiness in other people, like Gwen,” he rushes out in a single breath. “But it never changed the way I felt about you. I just didn’t have the guts to tell you and I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for not telling you I liked you too.”

You stare at him in shock for a few seconds. “That you liked me too? How the hell did you find out that I liked you in the first place?” you ask.

He blushes underneath his mask and brings a hand to the back of his neck, a nervous tick that was pointless because all he could feel was the spandex. “The night of the festival… well, I–I was just worried about you, so I went to your apartment. You didn’t open the window, which worried me even more. I went in and heard you singing one of your songs.”

Even though he hadn’t taken his mask off, you could tell he was embarrased by his tone of voice.

“Oh,” you mutter, feeling the heat rise to your face.

“Sorry, I know I shouldn’t have done that, but you left without saying anything and–” he is cut off by the feeling of your arms wrapping around his waist.

“I’m sorry for shutting you out like that, Pete” you say into his chest.

“It’s alright. I’m sorry for hurting you like that. You didn’t deserve it.”

You look up at him. “I guess we’re just two idiots in love, huh?” you laugh.

“I guess we are,” he snorts with laughter. He looks both ways before he grips the bottom of his mask and pulls it off in a swift motion.

His brown, doe eyes look into yours, showing the depth of his affection. He takes your face in his hands, holding you as if you were a precious gem. He tilts his head towards you, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“I love you so much. You are everything I’ve ever wanted. You’re more than enough, love,” he croons.

“I love you too,” you whisper as your his lips brush against yours. Your eyes flutter to a close and your lips finally meet his.

It was better than you could possibly imagine. Like heartbreak, no amount of fairytales or songs could have prepared you for the love and happiness you felt with that kiss. It was a kiss of reconciliation, love, and full of hope for a future together.

—

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